Racism...

So at the moment, I'm reading Once They Hear My Name, which is a book of nine Korean adoptees talking about their experiences in being adopted. I haven't finished it yet, but after reading it, reading other adoptees' blogs and watching Adopted the Movie, I've noticed that one thing these stories have in common is racism. It seems as though many transracial adoptees have experienced quite a lot of racism throughout their upbringing, and it's made me think about my own experiences with it.

I don't think I experienced as much racism as many other adoptees have. The first time I experienced - or maybe the better term would be "noticed" - any racism wasn't until I was about 15. Before then, I grew up in quite a privileged area of Sydney, and I went to a school where there were many other Asian kids. The one thing, for me, though, was that I was different from the rest of my family. Sure, I got the usual questions of "what country do you come from?", "what language do you speak?" and "are you Chinese?", but it wasn't until people saw my family that the more difficult questions arose. I never knew how to answer these questions, and I remember trying to think of the most ridiculous reasons as to why my sister and I looked different. I struggled with this throughout my whole childhood. And I do now, still... just... not to the same extent as I did.

When I was about 15, however, my family moved to a much different area that's not even really considered "Sydney". We moved from the hustle and bustle of Sydney to a much quieter, much more... caucasian area. My sister and I went to a school that was much bigger than our previous one, and I was literally the ONLY student of any sort of colour in the school. And this was when I got the racism. I've always been a very naive person. I normally perceive it as simply... stupidity. LOL. But I'll never forget - I was sitting in a maths class one day, and a boy (oh, I should also note: previously, I attended an all girl's school. So I hadn't really been to school with boys before, either!) passed me a note that said: "get back on your boat". I didn't get it. I looked around at people, and shrugged it off, thinking 'boat? What boat? Why would I get on a boat?'. My "friends" at the time looked at me really seriously, then at lunch explained how it was 'cause I was adopted. I still didn't get it.

I took the note home and showed it to my parents, who got quite upset over it. I still didn't get it. LOL. They had to basically sit me down and explain to me what racism was. (Once they'd calmed down themselves.) Needless to say, even though my parents are still living in that area, I never really felt comfortable there. My husband and I have since moved back to the city, where I feel much more comfortable, as there are many people of various different racial backgrounds.

I don't think anyone can really "get used to" racism and difference. I think it's something that's always awkward and hard to deal with. It's also the first thing people notice, because it's simply what they can see. I think there are lots of adoptive parents out there, who, although have good intentions, seem to adopt, thinking that it doesn't matter what race of child they adopt, race doesn't matter, so long as they raise a child to be simply... "a good person". However, I don't really think that's enough. Like it or not, race and cultural differences play a huge role in society, and I don't think people of "white privilege" seem to realise this:



In regards to the picture above, I'm married to a very caucasian guy. He's a fantastic person and knows me... probably better than anyone else. However, he comes from a very very very caucasian family. And I don't mean this in a derrogatory, or bad way. That's simply the way his family is, and I'd be lying if I said it was easy to marry into a family that I know I stick out like a sore thumb within...

A few years ago, just after we got engaged, we had a dinner to celebrate our engagement. It was just with us and our immediate families. I hadn't experienced any of the "why-are-you-different-from-your-family?" situations for years. Probably since I finished high school (2001), and I thought I was sorta... over them. I thought I was capable of dealing with it, and being upfront about my adoption, identity and where I fitted in with my family. Before this night, our families hadn't met. Before, I'd asked Robert to specifically tell his Dad and his Dad's partner that I'm adopted, so there wouldn't be any surprises, and things would go OK. Robert did this, however, I honestly don't think his Dad really listened when he told him. When his Dad and his partner arrived (my family was already seated and such), his partner came up to me, and said in a nice big, clear voice "are your parents coming, Alexis?". Even at the age of... 22, the awkwardness, embarrassment and shame from my childhood came flooding back to me in a wave not unlike a tsunami. It hit me in the face so hard that I had to really make a huge effort to hide my emotions and... sheer anger, and calmly explain that the people in front of us were my parents.

It might not sound like much, but when you've experienced these sorts of situations throughout your whole life, it's extremely frustrating to realise that old emotions don't go away easily, nor do people get "less ignorant"... you just grow up, and all you can really do is keep going and keep learning yourself, regardless of whether or not others do.

I often wonder what the people on the other end/s of these situations feel. Normally, I don't care, but part of my reason for blogging all this and making things so public, is I suppose, to have a voice. Even if I make one person in the world more aware of how adoptees feel, I'd feel somewhat accomplished. During my undergrad degree, we had an assignment, where we had to make something that raised awareness of something we felt passionate about. And despite my abundance of feelings of just "wanting to escape uni", this assignment was really enjoyable for me. I chose transracial adoption. I made this big book-like thing. Each page had something about me on it. After binding it, I cut each page in half, to express how I felt about feeling as though I live between two worlds. People were really moved by it. We all got to go around and look at each other's assignments, and I was really touched by how successful my assignment had been. I really felt a sense of achievement. I think that was probably one of the most meaningful moments of my 5 years at university...

Anywho, this post has been very large. I didn't mean to write so much, but I guess I just have a lot to say. ^_^ I've been putting it off, but there will definitely be a Korean speaking practice sometime soon. Thanks for reading.