Race matters (well, to some of us at least)

I’ll be the first to tell you that I haven’t had to fight for a whole lot in my life. I’m 24 and I’ve been a student for the majority of those years. Academia is territory where I’ve always thrived and I’m soon to be a master’s level social worker. I’ve always had food to eat, clothes to wear, a roof over my head and a loving family. I have my own car and the means to entertain myself at restaurants, movies etc. And all of these things are a hell of a lot. They’re more than many people have or will ever have. You could say that given the life I’ve led so far, I’ve had the luxury of being able to choose my battles. For most of my life, I’ve been a quiet, reflective person who preferred to be unobtrusive, to not make waves or argue. Heck, I don’t even really enjoy debating for fun. If you keep your mouth shut, no one can tell you you’re wrong or stupid because they’ve yet to have any evidence.

But when it comes to race, I’ve realized that I don’t want to keep my mouth shut and I feel as though I’m beginning to face the consequences. Ever since I started this blog, I’ve taken myself on an exploration I never dared to pursue before. I came to reject the colorblind perspective and recognize that issues raised by transracial adoptees are incredibly important. I came to value my identity more and more, to be proud to be a minority woman. From my perspective, I am growing into the person I want to be and it means the world. What I hadn’t planned on was the reaction of others around me regarding this change. I keenly feel that a few friends have distanced themselves from me and I suspect that they are not comfortable with my interest in race issues. It’s probably different when you’re white. One thing I’ve learned over time is that many (not all) white people are much more comfortable adopting the colorblind perspective and are self conscious about being viewed as racist (can't blame them given history). I’m not here to point fingers. My belief that race matters is just that: a belief. It is not a universal truth and probably never will be. I guess I just never expected some of my own friends to pull away over this. I’ve tried to be sensitive and I never, ever push my beliefs onto others. Maybe I didn't try hard enough. I feel hurt because I read their distancing as a rejection of this part of me which I am finally embracing. It makes me step back and question myself. Am I wrong for believing this way? Is it worth losing friendships over? I value my relationships so much, but I also value being true to myself.

I’m starting to think that this is only the beginning of my struggle. Standing up for race issues feels like an uphill battle. The reality is that a whole lot of people just don’t care and don’t see the point. But to me, there will always be a point. We may have a black president in the US now, but that does not make up for the overrepresentation of black children in the child welfare system or black individuals in prison. That does not make up for the blatant racial profiling in Arizona. That does not make up for the uncertainty I have felt at numerous times in my life when someone else targeted me/mistreated me and I never knew if it was because I was Asian, but always wondered. If you read my last post, then you should know that this is definitely not a request for pity. It’s a request for people to open their eyes, see each other for who we are and love anyway. No, we are not all the same! We are beautifully different and why can’t we just celebrate those differences? I’ll get off my soapbox now.

Dear Ki-hong

Today for no particular reason I’m thinking of Ki-hong. He’d be about 30 years old now. Ki-hong was a pen pal of mine whom I met on my trip back to Korea. As a part of our homeland tour, we visited his high school. We all put on a big talent show which was quite fun. The boys actually showed off viable talent skills like tae kwan do and samulnori music while our tour group had to think of impromptu acts that were more amusing than..well..talented. I’m pretty sure my ‘talent’ was singing Old McDonald Had a Farm with a group of people holding paper bag puppets. Eh.

At the end of the show, we had a chance to mingle with the students and kind of paired off. We brought gifts for the students and they brought gifts for us. I still have the sun pendant that Ki-hong gave me. He was 16, a skinny kid with short hair and silver glasses. He was very interested in American culture and we agreed to write each other when I returned to the states. Looking back, I wish I had been more grateful for him and the experience because at the time, frankly, I wasn’t. Why? Because I was young and stupid. I think I’ve mentioned previously that I didn’t have a strong interest in my Korean heritage during adolescence. For me, writing to Ki-hong was interesting to a degree, but I also felt weirded out by the six year age gap between us. I guess I just wasn’t sure how to address him or if I should consider him a peer. And his curiosity about America was not matched by me in return about Korea. Needless to say, I am the one who stopped writing. I think he wrote me once or twice more after I stopped responding before his letters stopped, too. The crappy truth is that I just didn’t care enough.

Today I wish I had cared more, that I had kept writing. I know it's not uncommon to take aspects of your life for granted as a child. And that we all make mistakes because we're just a bunch of imperfect humans. I still have a few letters from Ki-hong written on stationary with an image of a cartoon baseball player. For a number of years, those letters were lost. I uncovered them a few years back and considered trying to write to the address on the envelope, but this was over a decade later. I don’t know where Ki-hong lives now, what he does for a living, if he has married and had a family. He seemed like a shy, yet very earnest person. When I really think about it, trying to write him after all these years would only be to my benefit as I am the regretful one.

Ki-hong, wherever you are, you'll probably never read this or even remember me. I just wish to say I’m sorry for being young and stupid. I couldn’t help it, but I hope you’re out there having an amazing life. I’d also like to apologize for sending you a Hanson cassette tape, but my mom wouldn’t let me buy you a Metallica one at the time (she saw the word 'bitch' in one of the track listings, so that was the end of that.) You sent me the goodbye album by Seo Taiji and Boys which I actually still enjoy when I can find a tape player. If you ended up tossing the Hanson, though, I don’t blame you.

A room of our own

At this point in my life, I am not extremely close to any other TRAs (transracial adoptees). There is that small handful of childhood friends from adoption group whom I still see a few times a year. Even though we have all grown up and gone separate ways, our families maintain a connection that cannot be replaced. I do treasure these relationships and think of them as family. This week in particular I cannot help but think of them. One is getting married this Saturday. My mom and I are really thrilled to be attending the wedding. I've known this girl since we were three maybe? It's incredible. (And now I'm reminded that I must get a tube of waterproof mascara for the occasion.) I also recently hung out with another KAD friend (the one with the unrequited crush). He told me that a girl once mistook him for the only other Asian boy in the high school. You know, because 'all Asians look the same'. Ouch. It's not exactly a picnic recalling those times being offended or hurt, but it's a comfort to know we weren't alone. Thank goodness for other adoptees. We need each other's voices, maybe more than we realize.

I think that at some point I would like to join an adult adoptee group. Or form one myself, depending on where I'm living and if there's a need. It's hard right now as I'm a graduate student without a notion as to where I'll be in a year (besides employed..fingers crossed!). About a month ago, I did attend an online seminar about starting adult adoptee support groups. I found it to be very useful and especially loved that all the speakers were adoptees themselves who started their own groups. Each group was unique in its own way. One question that cropped up a few times throughout the seminar was whether to keep groups closed to adoptees only or to include their families/support systems. It got me thinking, too. I think there are benefits to both formats, but I admittedly lean more towards the 'adoptees only' approach. Or perhaps a compromise in which the group does an occasional event including everyone. Adoption, without a doubt, affects many people and certainly not just the adoptee. However, I just like the idea of adoptees having a room of their own to express what is on their minds without fear of being judged by someone who has not been in their shoes. My childhood adoptee friends mean so much to me, even though we've grown apart in some ways. I want to be able to maintain relationships with other adoptees throughout my adulthood. I need them. And I'm an independent person who has an impossibly hard time admitting that I need anyone, but I ultimately don't believe that people, adopted or not, are meant to walk through life alone. We need each other's voices. We need each other.