Bi-racial, PT.2

Growing up I was called all kinds of racial slurs. Everything from 'Nigger', to 'Spic'. I was called these insults because people couldn't place me, couldn't tell what I was. My mother telling me I was 'American' was not enough for theses people. 'Come on what are you? Indian, Asian? C'mon you can tell me!' But the thing was I couldn't.

My families past is shrouded in mystery, A mystery I have still not unraveled to this day. Well my father's side anyway. My mother's parents are 100 percent German. More specifically they descend from the Ostrogoths, a Germanic tribe that intermingled with the Huns during the times of the Romans.

On my father's side I can hardly go back to my grandparents without there being instant confusion. I found out later in life that my father was born to his mother when she was only 16. She married a man who was not his biological father in an effort to not be 'cast out' by society seeing as teen pregnancy was looked down even further upon then than it is now.

The confusion goes even farther back. We don't know who my grandmother's mother was. My Great Grandfather was in the navy and from what we knew her mother had died fairly young. All I knew later on is that my grandmother was effectively not white. Not sure what or how.

I gave in after awhile to the questions and the names and simply accepted the title of 'Asian'. Deciding that if I had to pick any race to stick with Korean, since for some reason that's what the first guess normally was. That way I could just answer with, 'Yep your'e right!' and not have to go into further explanations.

Bi-racial, PT.1

I remember when I was a kid when I first got the question. I was in Kindergarten. I was over a friends house from my the class playing with him. We were in the backyard when he suddenly asked, "Are you Chinese?" I remember not knowing how to answer. I don't know what I ended up answering but I remember wondering about it for the rest of the day.

I went for a walk with my Mom the next day to the park. On the way back I asked her, "Mom, am I Chinese?" My mother answered with a shrill shocked, almost offended tone.

"No! Of course not! Why would you think that?" I explained about my friend, pointing out that I liked Chinese food as evidence that he might be right, and she shook her head. "No, your not Chinese, your American."

I tried to accept that answer but I had a strange feeling in the back of my head. Somethings different. The rest of my life, up to and including now; coworkers, classmates, teachers, and even complete strangers on the street, have asked me what I am racially. So it wasn't an easy thing for me to ignore.

Even without those questions, I couldn't help but notice the differences. Hanging out with friends and seeing their white skin, then looking at my tan arms, my narrow eyes, versus the round eyes. And eventually the jokes started. Sooner or later my group of friends started spouting Asian jokes and I started to accept them.

(PT. 2 coming soon.)

The reason behind the name.

Bi-racial.

Alright this part of the name is a bit of a fib. 'Bi' essentially means two. I have more than two races behind my mix. If I shorten it though it basically goes like this; white and not-white. So I say it still counts.

Bisexual.

Unless you've been trapped in a cave you should know what this means. I have the advantage of being attracted to both male and female. Though according to my mother this can't be true.

Bipolar.

This is the name of one of the multiple mental illnesses that are floating around my brain.

So together they equal the name of my blog; Bi-racial, Bisexual, and Bipolar (Tri-Bi for short!).

Not much for a first post I'm afraid but I gotta start somewhere!