“You’re not white,” my husband reminded me as we were perusing a local bookstore, “and neither is Tricia.”
I had picked up a copy of Stuff White People Like. I was flipping through the pages, stifling my laughter. It was spot on, and I said to Patrick, “I have to get this for Tricia.” That’s when he reminded me that neither of us is white.
We’re both Korean adoptees. We grew up white with a lot of white privilege. But the white world doesn’t experience us as white.
I’m reminded of this when a stranger approaches me in a bagel shop and asks if he can practice his Mandarin on me.
…Or when the guy in my college dining hall asks me if I can teach him to stir fry.
…Or when someone is surprised by my name or how well I speak English…without an accent.
On the other hand, I often feel I’m not Asian enough for the Asian world to experience me as Asian.
We didn’t quite fit in at Korean school because our parents didn’t speak Korean, and we didn’t own hanboks. And, I feel slightly out of place at HMart.
With recent news events bringing the conversation about violence against Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders (AAPI) to the forefront of our social media feeds, I feel myself needing permission to join the conversation.
“Am I Asian enough to contribute?”
I feel so fortunate that I have friends and family in my life who are also Korean adoptees raised in white families. I can voice these crazy thoughts to them and find belonging in the messy middle.
If you are transracially parenting a child of color, give them permission and space to be in the conversation. Provide space for conversations not just about race but of belonging and identity and diversity and validation. Give them permission to say the things they’re afraid to admit out loud.
Let them know that they belong in the community of adoptees who all feel caught in the middle. At least we can be caught in the middle together.
Melissa Dunn Corkum