The Race Card Project
By Michele Norris
Jake Dinh,
Lake Forest, CA
Being Vietnamese but born in the US created a feeling of disconnection for me neither fully connected to Vietnamese heritage nor entirely embraced by mainstream American culture.This highlights a struggle to find belonging and identity in a space between two worlds. It reflects the complexities in my life of cultural duality and the search for myself in a multicultural society.
Mariana Arneaud,
Lakewood, CA.
Why do I need to “prove” it? Since I don’t LOOK Vietnamese, I shouldn’t say that I am?
MaiLynn Stormon-Trinh
New Zealand
I am the only child of an American woman of Norwegian descent born in Fargo, North Dakota and a Vietnamese man who moved to the US in the mid-seventies and cut all his Vietnamese familial ties. I look more Asian than white, but culturally, I was raised in a white world, with a white family and predominately white friends. As an adult in my mid-twenties, I feel like I am the permanent inbetweener, stuck in the fringes of both the worlds my parents have come from. At times, race has made my life a lonely, mixed up (no pun intended) place. But I am learning that there can be great power in being multiracial. My race, and thus my identity, is not spelled out for me through history and stereotypes. I have a freedom in obscurity that Gilda Radner called: “delicious ambiguity”.
Tho Nguyen,
Greenbelt, MD.
Tho is from Vietnam and grew up in Tacoma
Amanda is from Oroville, grew up in the Tri-Cities
Tho and Amanda met at the Barnes and Noble in the U-Village while Tho was writing his dissertation
Tho and Amanda lived in Vietnam for 4 years since 2008
Amanda learned Vietnamese. Tho’s parents is pleased. Tho and Amanda married in 2012.
Tho and Amanda now live in Greenbelt, MD where Amanda is pursuing a PhD in Public Health at Johns Hopkins and Tho is an Fellow at the National Science Foundation.
Thien Kim Ho,
Somerville, MA.
I grew up in what seemed like a movie representation of my own race. My mother was a nail technician. I don’t know if she still is. My father probably still is an engineer. I don’t know whether I had “tiger parents” or if they were just plain mean. I suffered a lot from their treatment. I was called names, deemed worthless, and the police didn’t help when my father tried to strangle me… Of course, I was forced to take piano lessons. I needed a talent because every white person out there would “always look down on us.” Let’s not talk about how playing classical piano is impossible for me because I’m too nearsighted to see any sheet music, no matter how big it’s blown up.
Outside of home I was made fun of, living in a suburb with predominantly whites, of course it happened. “You’re Chinese, right?”, “moo goo gai chicken,” middle schoolers would yell. Even the circle of friends subscribed to stereotypical humor about how I MUST HAVE BEEN really good at MATH and was also a NINJA.
I estranged my parents, and decided to forget my second language but I always have this nagging in my heart that says “please hang on to your heritage.” Growing up, my parents insisted that yelling, anger, hitting, and more, were part of the Vietnamese culture, something I do not want with me. Maybe someday, I will be able to appreciate that part of me and I will be able to say “I’m Vietnamese!” without cringing.
Cecile Nguyen
Austin, TX
Alternative title could also be “I hate the Asian Guessing Game.”
I really don’t mind people being curious about my ethnicity. What I do mind is how people go about finding out my ethnicity. “Are you Chinese? Japanese? Korean?…[list goes on]” Believe me, they’ll keep going until I stop them. And they will get some sense of relief because now they know. I am Vietnamese and no you can’t “tell” that I am Vietnamese by looking at me; I can’t tell who else is Vietnamese just by looking at them. At any rate, if I don’t stop one soon enough with “No, I’m Vietnamese,” I have been asked “What are you?” What a loaded question! Reasonable answers are:
– a Human
– a Woman
– a UT Alumna with a Degree in Advertising
– a Gamer
– a Fully Employed Project Manager
– a Spirited Austinite with a Penchant for Making Cards, Cooking with Friends, and Loving Her Life and the Important People In It
What Am I? Sick and tired of answering that question in particular, that’s what.
Phillip T.,
Elk Grove, CA.
Prior to going to school I didn’t know a lick of English. My parents spoke to me either in Cantonese or Vietnamese, but when I enter kindergarten I learned English for the first time. I don’t remember much of kindergarten, I don’t even remember her name. I was in E.S.L until the 3rd grade, and now I’ve lost the ability to speak Cantonese. English is now my primary language.
Hao Nguyen,
Durham, NC.
I wanted to say…
Black Vietnamese. Speak english, spanish, vietnamese. Eat suong kho, pho, and corn dogs.
Words that describe my mixed race/heritage children. Having to choose only 6 words, I had to put them in order of words that most describe them. Having to choose what comes first — black or vietnamese–which describes them more… was a hard task. I can only imagine how hard it will be for my children when society forces them to choose.
Miles Foltynowicz,
Edwardsville, IL.
I’ve dealt with racial ambiguity most of life. It is not uncommon for someone to ask me, “What are you?” in reference to my race/ethnicity without explicitly saying so. Others play the Asian guessing game: Chinese, Vietnamese, Korean et cetera. If you are hoping I will reveal my proud ethnic heritage to you, then I apologize for the disappointment but certainly feel free to leave your guess in the comments below.
Kimberly Jackson,
New York City, NY,
Most people do not associate the name “Kimberly Arlene Jackson” with a half-Vietnamese, half-White American person. The surprise is often hard to hide.
Kaitlyn Cook,
Fairmont, MN.
When I was little I lived in an apartment building in a small town. I grew up roaming the halls and making friends with anyone and everyone. The Asian-American women on the first floor who let me help water her plants, the Native-American elderly couple on the second floor who loved jazz and doing puzzles, the hispanic family who lived across the hall and babysat me when my parents went out, and the African American teenagers who taught me how to play four-square and ride a bike. To me there was nothing differentiating these people. They were all my friends. Their skin color was insignificant to me and I had no idea that the rest of the world around me thought otherwise. This colorblind pattern followed me when I entered elementary school and made friends with the Vietnamese janitor and the Korean cafeteria lady. They treated me just the way everyone in my apartment building treated me: with respect. And in return I respected their different heritages. I listened to the stories of their family and their ancestors. And I respected that they came from different places, but that didn’t change who they were to me. I grew up not knowing about race. The idea of race was forced upon me by society. It’s society that creates race. Nothing more and nothing less.
Michelle,
San Jose, CA.
Are you [insert East Asian ethnicity] I never got Vietnamese. Looking back, people may have responded that way based on my features or because they had never seen enough Vietnamese girls to make an educated guess. I used to be flattered by people thinking I was not Vietnamese because I didn’t want to embrace my roots; I didn’t think being Vietnamese was “interesting” enough compared to other Asians. Now, I fully embrace my culture, the culture that my parents brought to America as refugees in a post-war torn country.
Rob McCollough,
Asheville, NC.
Interfaith; Vietnamese & “Other”.
Because I am told that I am ‘lucky I can pass for white’
Stephanie Do,
San Jose, CA.
Whenever I tell people that my ethnicity is Vietnamese, people are usually shocked and then say that I look like I’m Mexican or Indian. There’s only been a handful of people who know I’m Vietnamese right when I meet them.
Tenzin Palmo,
Fridley, MN.
A question that get asks a lot to Asian people.
Tu Nguyen,
Philadelphia, PA.
I am a 9th grader at central high school in Philadelphia. I wrote these words because I know that I’m not the only one who has heard them before. I am Vietnamese, but people often assume that I am in some way, Chinese. I notice that often then not, people tend to decide for themselves what someone is, instead of getting to know that person and actually learning what their ethnicity really is. It bothers me to know that people are judged based on stereotypes for example, Asians are said to have chink/small eyes, all Asians look identical, their IQ’s are higher than an average person who is not asian, they study nonstop and always get straight A’s, etc. These things are not true about Asians, every one is different in they own ways or else we would all be clones of each other. I also often hear the words “ching-chong” countless amounts of time. I don’t understand why, someone feels the need to say it to an Asian person, because not all Asians are Chinese and “ching-chong” isn’t a real word. Not only are they making a fool of themselves for saying this, but also they are making the other person feel low and unimportant. Try being in the other persons shoes and see how it feels to be insulted because you are different. The next time you meet an Asian person or anyone of a different ethnicity try to learn about them, instead of assuming that they are this or that or saying something that you saw online/tv because it may not be true and will hurt that person. Think twice about what you say.
Ashley Gremler
Ft. Meade, MD
I’m White, well mostly. I am a quarter Vietnamese, but you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at me. I’m dating a Black man. I love him for who he is, not for the color of his skin. But I must admit, I love the way our hands look when our fingers are interlocked. I think it is beautiful and I cannot wait to have children with him someday. But most people don’t seem to agree with our relationship. Even some of my family members and close friends make jokes sometimes. I know they’re just teasing me, but sometimes I think they’re actually being serious. And the truth is, it still hurts either way. It hurts a lot actually, and I don’t want my boyfriend to have to deal with their insensitivity. I just want people to love and accept us for who we are, not judge us because of our different skin color.
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