Half Japanese, Half Caucasian.
Born and raised in Hawaii.
Lived in Europe, South America, Africa, Southeast Asia, and the mainland U.S.
You could say I’ve picked up quite a few different mannerisms, lingo, and perspective over the years.
I dance hula, love country, island, and Christian music, slurp my food (my team loves to call me out on this one! Thanks, Dad, for the Asian habit), body board when I can, speak in varying degrees of Japanese, Danish, Spanish, Pidgin, and can get by in other African and Asian dialects. I have big eyes from my mom, short genes from my dad, enjoy the beauty that comes from acres and acres of farmland, passionate about business, children, truth, and justice, love a good book, and always up for an adventure.
You could say I’m like a chameleon.
In Hawaii, we call mixed people like me, hapa.
No, I’m not Hawaiian (even though my name, Ka’ili, might make you believe so), but yes, I’m still local.
I’m half Japanese, a quarter Swedish, 12.5% Bulgarian, and 12.5% British.
My dad is Japanese, my mom is Caucasian.
I had such a blast growing up in a mixed family. My favorite was that you could always tell who cooked the meal for the most part. My mom loves making pancakes, fruit salads, soups, salads, and desserts. My dad loves making saimin, anything with rice, lots of local food and Asian food. Don’t worry though, my mom can make some ono Japanese dishes too!
Race is something I never really thought about growing up. Hawaii is a melting pot, so I was always used to people being mixed in some way or another. It wasn’t until I went on my road-trip across the U.S. after I graduated high school I was exposed to people being of a certain race.
In Hawaii, I would sometimes get teased about being a “redneck” with my mom being from the mainland and all. And yes, her parents do own a farm. It wasn’t until I moved to Europe did I fully appreciate my European descent, and I have to say, I LIVE for the summer when I can spend time with my family in Northern Michigan.
The funny thing though is when I’m on the mainland U.S. or in Europe, I’m perceived as Asian. Not a hint about being a “redneck” or a “white person”. They’re fascinated about my knowledge of Asia, along with my upbringing in Hawaii.
People can get very confused when they meet me. Depending on how I dress, speak, and if I have a tan or not, I can pull off many different races. I’ve passed for Spanish, many Asian races, South American races, the list goes on. It’s very interesting really.
Most people perceive me as different.
They usually don’t see the similarities I have with them.
If I’m with Caucasian people, they see my Asian traits. When I’m with Asians, they see my Caucasian traits. Sometimes randomly they perceive my “Hawaiian” traits, or something entirely different.
My favorite though is when I explain to people, and they think I’m half Japanese, half American. Don’t worry guys, I’m half Japanese, half Caucasian, full American!
On the Race, it’s been more apparent how different I am. My quirks from my upbringing and my previous travels, along with my physical appearance have really thrown people off.
It has been hard at times being so different. Sometimes I feel like people don’t understand me, which quite a few don’t because I have such a unique upbringing and outlook on the world.
However, it’s been refreshing and amazing when my sisters and brothers have shown interest in me. I’ve been able to share about all the different sides of me, whether it’s teaching them hula, or listening to country music, or writing in Japanese hiragana, or talking about business, or trying an Asian dish.
In return, it’s been incredible learning about others and their customs and culture.
I realized on the Race I could constantly be offended or exasperated, or I could embrace being different.
Resting in my identity in Christ, I became more than happy to be my unique myself.
Maybe I’ll never fully fit in to a certain mold. Maybe I’ll always be perceived as different. Maybe not.
Regardless, I’m still me. I’m still Ka’ili.
You could say that I’ll always have a piece of me missing. A piece of me that’s on the other side of the world—one of the sacrifices and joys of traveling so much. I’ll always be missing people, languages, and ways of life.
But I wouldn’t trade it for the world. To me, it’s better to love and to let go, than to never love and experience at all.
Cheers to being different!
