If you didn’t already know or if you didn’t figure it out based off of my profile picture and last name, I’m not white. But I am American.
I was born in America.
My parents were born in America.
My grandparents were born in America.
My cat was born in America.
And I love it! I love being American. But I’m not just American–I’m Asian-American. Both of my parents are of Japanese descent, but my dad was born in California, and my mom was born in Hawaii (which is also in America–let’s show some grace for the people who don’t know). Therefore, I am fully Japanese, by blood.
But for a long time, I’ve had an issue with this. See, my extended family is very ethnically diverse. For example, out of 17ish first-cousins, my brother and I are the only full Japanese; everyone else is half something else–Mexican, white, Chinese, a little of this, a little of that. And I love and hate this fact all at the same time: I love that my family is so diverse, but I hate that it makes me feel like I’m somehow living exclusively. And my character viciously fights against exclusivity. However, I grew up primarily surrounded by Asians–my schooling from elementary all the way up to college pretty much consisted of 50% Asians, 40% whites, and 10% others–not by choice, that’s just how my life went. And the activities I was involved in attracted a bunch of Asian people, too–basketball, band, Christian fellowships, etc.–so most of my friends at home are, in fact, Asian!
So when I was thinking about what to do after graduating college, I sought out places to go that weren’t so…well, Asian. No joke, I looked up places to work/intern at in Colorado, Wisconsin, Connecticut, Michigan, Tennessee, and Oregon (to name a few) partly because I knew that if I went somewhere with a smaller or non-existent Asian population, there would be no question as to whether or not I only hung out with people who looked like me. I know that this may sound ridiculous, but these were my real thoughts.
And then I was introduced to the Race. It was the perfect post-undergrad plan for me on many levels; but honestly, a huge part of me just enjoyed the fact that I was going to be one of only three Asian people on my squad. I was excited to be the minority. I was excited to be around a group of people from all over the U.S. And I was glad for a chance to “prove” to people that I wasn’t just the typical Asian-American Christian California girl who went to a California school and graduated in four years, moved back into her comfortable Asian-American environment, got a steady job for a year while applying to grad school for a masters degree in something that will one day lead to a respectable, yet not too high-profile job, all the while serving as a church youth leader on the side and living at home with her family. Please, please, please understand that there is absolutely nothing wrong with this. If that’s where God has you, it really ain’t too shabby of a life–it’s just not what I want for my own life and not what I believe God wants for my life. All of this to say that I was excited to see that my squad wasn’t full of Asian people.
But over the course of this year, the Lord has helped me see the true colors of my apparent racism towards my own race. It’s not that I don’t like being around Asians or dislike being Asian myself; but my issue stems from the deeper places of fear and pride.
Fear, because I’m afraid that people will think that I am racist and exclusive. Pride, because I want to stand out in the sea of Asian-Americanness that I’ve lived in. I don’t want to be stereotyped.
Also over the course of this year, I’ve learned that as much as I say that I am American, the world still may not see me that way. In every single country we’ve been to, we as Racers have had to introduce ourselves to countless amounts of people. Usually the script goes, “Hi! My name is Kylie. I’m 23 years old, and I’m from California in the United States.” Now, if I were white, that intro would be sufficient. But because I definitely look Asian, I usually get a reaction like…
“…no, but like, where are you from?”
“Oooh, but were you born in China?”
“Wow. Your English is really good.”
*silence, in expectation of further explanation*
It all really bugged me for the longest time. But you know, ultimately, this year has made me more appreciative and proud (healthily proud, I believe) of my racial background. Yes, I’m American. But no matter where I live or what I do, I’m always going to be Asian-American. And that’s really a beautiful thing. The Lord makes all of us uniquely and purposefully–this includes being intentional with our ethnic makeup. So my question concerning my race shouldn’t be, “How can I set myself apart?” but rather, “How can I use every detail of how God created me to further the Kingdom?”
And thus, I have begun to embrace my Asianness this year in ways that I was hesitant to before (special thanks to squadmates Christine Tsao and Thomas Kim).
My name is Kylie Fujimoto. I am Asian-American, and I like it.
