When I meet people today, it is inevitable that one of the first questions they ask is, “So where are you from?”
“I grew up in Los Angeles.”
“No, I mean where are you from from?”
Oh, how I despised that question. Why are you asking me? Do I remind you of Charlie Chan?
I really am from L.A. My parents are from Taiwan. Yes, I like Thai food, too—but that’s just a coincidence.
For better or worse, Americans label people. African American, Mexican American, Asian American. And if you’re white? American.
As an Asian American boy, I always feared roll call on the first day of school.
“Johnny Rogers?” “Here.”
“Pete Stone?” “Present.”
“Uh…Ming-Jinn Tong?” “Er…here. But I go by Michael.”
As I got older, folks would almost fall over when they heard me speak English.
“Wow, you have no accent!”
“Yeah. I was born in New Mexico.”
“New Mexico? D…
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