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Your accent… Are you from here?

3629_585895201429832_1256147939_n-3Ivan Vazquez,
Sacramento, CA.

Although I was born and raised in San Diego, CA ; I grew up in a household that comprised of both the English and Spanish language, about 60% English and 40% Spanish. I am a child of second-generation immigrants and even though I received my entire education in English, I came to realize an accent was attached to my vocal chords. The ironic thing about it all, even when I was in Mexico among other Spanish speakers I received the same reaction and came to learn I also have an accent when I speak Spanish. I don’t necessarily feel rejected, however, on that same token I don’t really feel as I belong to either group…

Not overcooked or underdone. Just right.

birthday-hike-pictureLei-Anna Bertelsen,
Bozeman, MT.

I’ve grappled with this question all my life. My dad told me a story when I was a second grader after a boy called me names based on my skin color. My dad explained that when God made people, it took three tries to bake us to just the right color. When I was younger, I felt much more defensive when asked, ‘Where are you from?’ because it evoked in me the insecurity of ‘Where do I belong?’ But at my age and in today’s world, I choose to believe Its really a seeking question of ‘How are we connected.’ And I can feel confident in knowing we all belong as citizens of Earth to the human race.

“Where are you from?” – “Boston.” -” Liar!”

Lex,
Syracuse, NY.

I’m originated from Shanghai, China, currently doing a PhD at Syracuse University. Unavoidably, I have been welcomed with the question “where are you from” on a daily basis. It seems that not many people actually cares about the real answer: Shanghai — people generally don’t care about that corner of the globe –they only want to confirm their observation that I am a foreign alien. So, sometimes, I’d like to give false answer to see different reactions. At a recent house party, a half-drunk guy approached me and asked me THE question. I said I am from Boston. He then yelled at me and called me a liar.

Where are you from? No, really

Family-Pic-2014Michael Kenji Yamasaki,
Rio Rancho, NM.

OBSERVATIONS – Where are you from? No really … Where are you from?

I can relate to Mr. Marc Quarles (African-American, with a German wife and two biracial children).

There were times when I too have been asked, “Where are you from? No really where are you from?” However, in addition to that, people have also commented how well I spoke English (despite the fact that I have been in the United States over 50 years.), or they would “welcome me to the USA.”

Growing up in Hawaii, race wasn’t really any issue with me. In Hawaii, Asian is the dominant population. (By the way, I notice that for the most part, Asians and Pacific Islanders are lump together as if we are one giant homogenous group. A lot of “mainlanders” don’t seem to get the idea that Hawaiians, Samoans, Japanese, Koreans, Filipinos, Chinese, Vietnamese, etc. have their own unique traditions and culture.)

I recall that when I was getting married to my wife at the time, one of party from the mainland made a comment, “There aren’t too many Americans here.” Referring to the population of Hawaii. I was so shocked and speechless about it. She also commented that a lot of Mexicans were moving into Kentucky. (Her tone of voice signaled that she was not happy about it.) Unbeknownst to her, one of my best friend who was riding with us in the back seat was half-Mexican (but could pass for White). You should have seen the look of his face. Ugggh!

It was when I moved to the mainland (New Mexico), I became aware of my “minority” status. Asians are few and far between in the area that I live. It felt odd to be a “minority” coming from Hawaii. Most of the comments directed at me were out of ignorance rather than racism. False assumptions based on generalized idea of an Asian person.

I remember once where my wife told me while she was at the mall with our baby “hapa” (biracial) girl, a woman thought how adorable our daughter looked. She inquired where did my wife get the little girl. (Oh, did I forget? My wife is White from Kentucky.)

My wife almost told her, “At Walmart, on sale now. Down on aisle 15.” People assume that when a White woman has an Asian looking child; the Asian child is adopted. Sheesh, give me a break.

No, but where are FROM from?

image17Tina,
Birmingham. AL.

Nevermind the fact that I speak with a southern accent, that my attire is noticeably of American influence, or that my last name is German. When someone asks where I’m from and I give them the name of my hometown, this answer is somehow unacceptable, so I give them the name of my birthplace – Hampton, Virginia.

Being half-Caucasian and American born automatically makes me foreign in the eyes of many and I’m often met with remarks like, “Are you an immigrant?”, “Do you eat kimchi?”, and “in your country…”

Race is defined by culture, people, not the color of of ones skin.

You’re from? Hmm your pretty tall.

Aaron,
Spring, TX

In many occasions I am asked, where I am from. This question could be asked in many ways, either with good intent or bad intent. It usually goes this way, “Hey you look like you’re from the middle east, are you?” I usually respond with, “no, I am actually from Mexico.” Then they follow with a side comment, “you’re from there? hmm you’re pretty tall.” This is something i get often and it implies that all Mexicans are short which is not true. The conversation continues. If the conversation is respectful we talk about how I now live in Spring Texas, if it is not one of us just walks away. I have noticed that when a person who is actually from the middle east asked me this question, it usually comes off with love and respect, in a manner that they want me to say yes so the atmosphere can be so welcoming. Even when they find out i am not from the middle east, they respect me. Now when a caucasian asks me, I can tell it is out of curiosity of course however sometimes i feel the way it is asked sometimes comes off with an offensive tone.

Go back to the country you’re from!

Belsy Montufar,
Lake Forest, CA

As a Hispanic myself, there have been multiple instances in which I have felt too white to be Hispanic, and too Hispanic to be white. Finding your bicultural identity when you feel this way is extremely hard. One day my classmates are pointing out that my English is “too perfect” for someone who is Hispanic, and the next, a family member is calling me white washed because I am struggling to form a sentence in Spanish. Everyone around me speaks Spanish, I should know better!

When comments like these come about, I am quick to ignore them. They’re my friends and family after all, right? They don’t mean it.
The truth is, they do mean it, and in the past this would not bother me, but now, I won’t let it slide.

People out on the streets are always assuming where I’m from. Why does it anger me when these people start assuming I’m anything except what I truly am? (Guatemalan) Or when white men start yelling across the street, “Go back to where you came from!” I was born here, what do they mean go back to where you came from?

I have allowed myself to feel stuck time after time trying to be what everyone else wanted me to be, but if I’m being honest I am tired. Today I am the proud daughter of immigrant parents with perfect English. The next time someone assumes where I am from I will be sure to tell them I am Guatemalan-American. A Guatemalan-American carrying a sense of purpose and one that is so proud to be where she is from. One that refuses to be forced to pick if she’s gonna be more Hispanic or more white for the day.

Yes, I really am North African.

154502_3459944010001_575553473_nHannah,
St. Louis, MO.

My mother is from Africa. She has dark skin. My father is Swedish. My mother used to get asked if she was my Mexican nanny. I was bullied as a kid because I look like no one in my family. No one understands I identify more as a minority but I look like a white woman. It’s a weird place to be. I often felt like a spy.

I’m too light, yet too dark!

Lucia Osei Anim,
Manassas, VA

I am Lucia, I live at Manassas Virginia. I chose those six words because I come from Ghana, West Africa, and I am considered too dark in America but too light in Ghana. The main idea of choosing these six words is that in United States when white people see me, the first question ask is, “Where are you from?” I respond, “I am from Virginia” and the next thing that comes out of their mouths is “No, but where are from? To which respond I am Ghanaian. Despite living in America from my infancy and speaking English, I will always be considered Ghanaian rather than American. When I visited Ghana last year I felt like a foreigner, they called me ‘Obroni’ which means white lady, so I was left wondering who am I? Ghanaian or American, or both? I can never seem to be both.

“Okay, but where are you from?

Skylar Blechner,
Mineola, NY

When people ask me the question “where are you from”, I usually respond that I am a 5th generation Jewish New Yorker. Then I get the follow up question of “Okay, but where are you from? Like your ancestors.” I answer the same way and usually get weird looks, but in my mind that is the truth. I am a Caucasian woman who follows the Jewish faith who lives in New York. I don’t actually know where my ancestors came from. My mother is adopted and we have no idea who her birth parents are and where they came from. My mom was adopted though by an Ashkenazi Jewish couple. Ashkenazi Jews are those who originated in Eastern Europe (which is many different countries). Two years ago she took one of those DNA cast and the results said she was Irish. I don’t know if I fully believe in these tests, but it does explain why both my mother, myself and my younger brother do not have the stereotypical large Jewish nose like my father. My dad is the only birth child of three children. His older sister was adopted from Seattle and his younger sister was adopted from South Korea. Despite the fact that they don’t look like each other, they still love each other and my grandparents love them all equally.
Adoption is something that’s been very big in my family. I plan on adopting some day. But adoption leaves a lot of questions about yourself. Where am I actually from? What illnesses might I have in the future? What culture and experiences could I be missing out on? Who am I? Being the daughter of an adopted person can be confusing. I don’t always know how to answer the question where are you from. I know that I’m from a loving family. I know that both sides have been in New York for many generations. I don’t know what European country I come from, because as Jewish people my family has been kicked out of many different countries. My last name comes from the German word Bléch, which means Tin; the job that we believe my ancestors had was a Tinsmith. Despite the fact that my last name comes from a German word, I have my great-great-great-great grandfather’s passport from Russia (he was the first to come to the USA but used a Russian passport to emigrate here). We think we are from Austria, Hungary, Poland, and Russia (maybe Germany too, but no one actually thinks that). I may never know and I am okay with that. I have no idea what race I truly am, but I know who I chose to be. I chose to be a proud Jewish New Yorker!

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