I see colour

As a third world kid, I always struggled to find a niche.  My dream was always to blend in.  But before you say anything, let me speak up.  This went deeper than a teenager's desire to fit in and find her place in her world.  When I say I wanted to blend in, I mean exactly that...I didn't want to stand out.

No matter how much I tried, no matter how fluent my Spanish was, no matter how culturally relevant I had learned to become....I would always be Chinese first to my friends.

You might smirk at what I'm about to say, because I know it doesn't jive well in our North American psyche.  But I still remember...I must have been in my tween years.  Our home's dining room had wall to wall mirrors.  And though I don't remember the context of the meeting, I remember my mom holding the two palms of her hand to the two sides of my face.  She forced me to look at myself in the mirror and asked me:

"What do you see?"

I got angry at mom and tried to brush her hands off my face.  She persisted:

"What do you see?"

"What do you mean, mom?"

My mom then told me....and to this day I remember her words.  She told me, in tears, that no matter what I did, and how much I longed to be 'one of them', my friends will always see me as someone different.  To them, they will always see me as a Chinese friend.

They will see my skin colour.

Yes, I know what some of you are thinking.  We are all equal.  We should not define people by colour.  Yes, I know God loves me no matter what or who I am

But I have to admit....at that moment, I realized a truth...a harsh truth.

I realized I would always be a Chinese "something".  I don't think anything happened magically.  In fact, I was a bit upset that my mom did not 'listen'.  But over the months and years, slowly, I began to find out more about my heritage, about my history, about China.


Blending in

And then I went to Hong Kong for a visit.  I then experienced what it felt like to blend in in a sea of people who looked like me.  It was a strange feeling.  In a way, I felt even more lost.  It was not what I was expecting.

And that got me thinking..."What did I really think it would be like to truly blend in?"

Because, it was just an appearance....as soon as I opened my mouth, people knew I was not really one of them.

I can see it in their eyes.  I can hear it from their tones.  I leave feeling 'less'

Minority

And then I come to Canada.  The land of immigrants.  The land where people say it doesn't matter what your colour is.

And yes, on the whole, I feel freer here.  I feel I have more room to be whoever I want to be.

But that is not to say I don't see colour.

And seeing colour comes with consequences.

Growing up in South America I remember being mocked and teased while walking on the street for being Chinese (and female)

I remember seeing how adults talked about being discriminated

I remember learning to defend yourself because you are a target

I knew that if something bad happened to you, you were at a disadvantage.

I grew up praying that I would just be the few lucky ones that do not encounter many of these experiences...and vowed to never forget 'my place' in society and to not be shocked when and if it happened to me.

***

I wrote the above back in February 2017.  It is August of 2020 now.  So much time has passed.  And so much more has happened.

I ended my original draft with a subtitle: "Fight for your Rights".  To be honest, I can't recall what I was about to write.  But it doesn't escape me that that subtitle fits well with what has been happening in the last 3 years since I wrote that:  the Me-too movement, Black Lives Matter, etc.

New perspectives

They say "time will tell".  It's been 3 years since, but I don't know if I am any wiser than before.  I do know this.  I will always see colour.  The journey to see everyone as equal will be a life-long journey, because, after all, despite my own experiences, I, too, sometimes act negatively when I see colour.  I too, used to get scared when I saw a group of Black men on the street.  I, too, would speak as a superior when speaking about other 'cultures'.

Learn.  Dig inside.  Replace those bad roots with love and acceptance.

Seeing colour isn't a sin.  I don't think so.  

Wanting to blend in doesn't make you ungrateful for what you are and have.

But seeing colour, facing the prejudices we have inherited and perhaps even nurtured over the years and working on listening and learning and changing takes courage.  And the outcome is always better.  Because when we do, we finally take that tint away from our glasses.

Yes, I still crave to blend in sometimes.  But it's an old thing that every now and hen comes to haunt me.  But I have come to realize -- I actually don't want to blend in.  To blend in would mean a world with no colour (no pun intended), a boring world, a wold with no creativity, no dialogue.  A world without me.

And that, we can't live without, can we?   

Just as we can't live without you.

The world, I have concluded, is better with colour.  So, but we have to re-learn how to live in it without destroying, judging, antagonizing, calling names, and creating fear and separation.