“I suck at games. I don’t have the attention span to memorize the rules of poker. I don’t have the agility to compete in any kind of physical sport without irony. And I sure as hell can’t get into any kind of video game that requires me to inhabit the body of an ax-wielding elf. In fact, the only games I have mastered are Uno, Pictionary, and Foosball: activities that require nothing but a steady hand and zippy flick of the wrist. People usually don’t engage me in competition.
It used to come as a surprise to me, then, when complete strangers would recruit me in a game I like to call “Guess Her Race!” This isn’t an activity for the athletically gifted, intellectually blessed or the strategically savvy. There are no props, points, or rules, but there must be at least two people playing and at least one of them has to have a racially ambiguous appearance.
I have small eyes and black hair. I’m also vertically challenged and incredibly near-sighted. These four features are apparently all that’s required of me to play “Guess Her Race!” I don’t need to run fast, drink a lot or have face cards to win. I just need to look different from the norm and all of a sudden, I’m playing.
It started when I was attending elementary school in a white bread suburb outside Chicago. Classmates would ask me all the time, “What are you?” Then they’d go through the laundry list of Asian races: Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Malaysian, Filipino, Thai, etc.
This question always begets multiple answers. Because although I identify ethnically as “Chinese American,” I would always just say “Chinese” because that’s what I knew they were looking for. In the end, I knew they would just sum it up to “Asian.” For years, classmates went around introducing me to others as their “Asian friend.” So it never really mattered how I responded to their guessing games; I would still end up categorized by someone else’s terms. In that sense, I’ve lost this game almost as many times as I’ve played it.
Perhaps I’m coming across as bitter, but I assure you I’m not. The racially homogenous suburb I grew up in wasn’t a hotbed for overtly racist activity — just passive ignorance. So despite hearing the occasionally unenlightened comment, I was rarely confronted with obvious prejudice. Today, when a friend or a stranger asks me upfront about my race, it doesn’t bother me. But if I pay attention to how they ask, I become more aware of how they perceive things and what’s important to them.
My idol Tina Fey has had similar experiences regarding the long scar on the left side of her cheek. She acquired it at an early age and has detailed society’s response to it in her memoir Bossypants:
“I’ve always been able to tell a lot about people by whether they ask me about my scar. Most people never ask, but if it comes up naturally somehow and I offer up the story, they are quite interested. … there’s [the] sort of person who thinks it makes them seem brave or sensitive or wonderfully direct to ask me about it right away … To these folks, let me be clear. I am not interested in acting out a TV movie with you where you befriend a girl with a scar. My whole life, people who ask about my scar within one week of knowing me have invariably turned out to be egomaniacs with average intelligence or less.”
Like Fey’s scar, my Asian features are out there for the world to see. My small eyes and black hair are some of the first things people notice about me and the way they act because of them reveals their true selves. Sometimes, people will treat my appearance as an invitation to start guessing my race. It’s like they think they’re on a game show requiring them to get the right answer in 30 seconds or less. Usually these people don’t mean any offense and are just genuinely inquisitive. But then there are the egomaniacs Fey refers to…
My freshman year of college, I found myself dancing with a guy at a party. In an act of misguided foreplay, he touched my face and asked me softly, “What are you?” Something about the way his fingers grazed my cheek hinted he wasn’t inquiring about my class year, major, hometown or any of the usual stats required for a one-night stand. He was playing the game. When I told him “what I was,” he grinned lasciviously and said, “I’ve never been with an Asian before.”
I didn’t know this guy very well. I do recall he was a history major and a member of the Jewish fraternity. He could be an upstanding man for all I know, a righteous dude. Though I don’t remember much about him, I do know one thing: he did not get with an Asian girl that night. To him and anyone else looking to put down a finger in the “Asian Hook Up” round of Never Have I Ever, let me be clear: I am not interested in acting out a TV movie where you befriend a girl who is Asian. Also not too keen on acting out a porno where you hook up with one. I know; I’m no fun.
When it comes to commenting on race in America, people don’t fall neatly into categories of harmless dodos or egomaniacs of average intelligence. From my time in a homogenous suburb to a fairly homogenous college campus, I’ve learned that there are many different responses. And now, unless you’re like the Alpha Epsilon Pi brother above, I don’t roll my eyes when someone plays “Guess My Race!” with me. I’ve since recognized the importance of society acknowledging my racial and ethnic identity and recent psychological studies agree.
A 2010 study on racial colorblindness published in Psychological Inquiry indicated that colorblindness doesn’t erase racial boundaries. Instead, it allows people who are unlikely to experience racial disadvantages to “ignore racism, justify the current social order, and feel more comfortable with their relatively privileged standing in society.” And, from my experience, colorblindness doesn’t help people of color come to terms with their own identity either. Politely ignoring race doesn’t make us any closer to a post-racial society; it suppresses our ability to see others and our communities as they truly are.
But when is it acceptable to ask about racial identity? In my experience, there’s a fine line between respect and offense. I have no problem discussing my race or ethnicity when the conversation occurs naturally and respectfully. But when someone asks about it to stroke their own ego or satisfy some sort of fetish? Count me out. I guess it’s just another game I don’t play.”
-Tam.
I have noticed that every single person who openly say things like, “I tell it like it is” and “I’m always blunt and honest” - the regular cliche ‘real talk’ etc etc etc are actually one of the most insecure, opinion-less, and easy to influence upon type of people, they’re not all to blame though, a lot of them don’t actually realise and it’s not a harmful trait so this isn’t even a rant. Due to the above and in my recent social observations/ people (personality) watchings, it’s probably not a surprise when I say it’s always the people that don’t need to speak volumes about their apparent qualities that are the ones that can command people with a word or two and at times, even a look from them will do the trick. What I’m trying to say is - please lower the volume, we can hear you perfectly fine.
This morning, I was early for work, there was no one in yet so I made a cuppa, and went through today’s papers, in my moment of relaxation I decided for some reason today was going to be the day I would glance over at my horoscopes, the first one that caught my eye finished it’s sentence with a, “If you would like to hear more about your horoscope, please call 0—-“. What kind of idiot would call a premium number to hear this shit? Well, there’s no one in the office I thought, fuck it, and cheekily used the work phone to hear what this was all about, I mean, I still can’t believe some people will actually call this number (unless they’re all using work phones.)
Anyway, so the automated man on the phone starts telling me about the chicken - you know the one - why did the chicken cross the road - what came first the chicken or the etc - you get the gist, he was basically trying to explain that people of my star sign over think and ask a lot of questions when we should just cross the road and not ask the chicken anything, so I’m like okay cool, that makes sense, I over analyse everything, I like everything to be how I want it to be but then he said “sometimes close enough is good enough” and that’s when I hung up.
I cannot deal with settlers, settling and routine. I always want more. I don’t know about you, I don’t really care to be honest, but I do not want a regular, mundane and easy way of life. Even in my dream job I sometimes get annoyed when things become too routine; wake up, go to work, go home, repeat. I hate it. Not for me. At all. This morning when I heard him say, “sometimes close enough is goof enough” I just felt so sorry for everyone who believe this because you know what, they really will agree with this. They’ll agree with the whole ‘Just take what you can get’ and I do not get it. Don’t you want more? What I have is not what I want. What I want is not what I need. And what I need I am still to get.
Some days I feel like I’m having a quarter life crisis and I’m not even 25 yet. Close enough is not good enough. I think that is a disgusting mantra. You’re probably thinking - dude, it was just a scammy phone thingy type, but no, it isn’t, I cannot have anything associated with me that sounds like this.
-IF IT’S CLOSE ENOUGH, IT AIN’T GOOD ENOUGH, IF IT SEEMS UNATTAINABLE, THAT’S ENOUGH TO BE GOOD”-
I hate it when people ask for advice then don’t take it when the person they asked it from knows so much more than them from experience. For example, if someone has a job and you don’t, then if they give you advice, you need to be listening to that shit.
This should go without saying for anything anyone wants to do, if someone has been through it and knows the experience then listen, for fuck’s sake, do you not understand they are probably your best motherfuckin’ asset. There is a reason they’ve been through and/or done something and you haven’t and by listening you will find out. If anything, if what they say to sounds a bit off and makes you question things, then you should listen even more, because it means they didn’t play by the books, they didn’t follow what Google and Wikipedia tells you to do about a certain situation.
But, do not, I repeat, do not, get advice and hear’say mixed up I.e. “My friend’s friend told me that-“, no, just no. Your friend’s friend is wrong. Only get information from the horse’s mouth. To say “yeah, I know” is the most disgusting sentence ever at times, it can singlehandedly bring your entire life down because you’re basically admitting ignorance is bliss. Idiots are the ones who never need advice and criticism. A little neurosis, a little paranoia and a little uncertainty will get you so far because you get to learn, learn, learn.
Asking dumb questions may get you laughed at, but guess what, asking dumb questions gets you answers. If you think you know, you know jack shit.
Or, just don’t ask for advice.
I once knew this girl when I was college who couldn’t get a damn job to save her life, she asked me for help so I gave her every pointer I knew - she shot all my tips down, had an excuse for everything and guess what happened? She remained jobless for a few more years - this is not to say my advice is the best, but it is to say, my advice was recommended because I’d been through that ‘first weekend retail job’ shit.
Taking advice does not care for your age, your background, your interests etc, it cares for experience and knowing when to learn from old experiences to make new ones.
Moral of the post: ‘If ya wanna glisten, ya gotta listen’.
