One Friday night, I was hanging out at the information desk in Blanchard with a friend of mine who was working the last shift there. A couple of boys came by to ask for directions to Chapin. I started chatting with one of them while the other one finished using the ATM. He seemed polite and I was actually enjoying our conversation up until he ruined it by bringing up my “exotic” looks:
Him: You’re so beautiful where are you from?
Me: I’m from Arizona!
Him: No, where are you from from?
Me: (sigh) Oh ok, well before Arizona I lived in New York.
Him: I mean what’s your ethnicity? You look really exotic.
Me: (already done putting up with this conversation) Guess.
Him: (without hesitation) I would say Indonesian or Cambodian!
Me: …
Maybe the question ‘Where are you really from?’ seems innocuous at first glance. You’d think it’s perfectly acceptable, in the name of getting to know the person you’re engaging in conversation with. But the problem with ‘Where are you really from?’ isn’t that the question itself is offensive or problematic, but lies in the assumptions made that drive someone to ask the question and to expect a certain answer. Asking ‘Where are you really from?’ automatically labels the person being questioned as “other” because it’s a counter-question that challenges the person’s belonging. It implies that they’re perceived as a foreigner or not truely belonging to the place they call home, thus excluding and invalidating their American lives and experiences. In short, the question is a racial microaggression. According to Colombia professor Derald Sue, the term racial microaggression refers to “brief and commonplace daily verbal, behavioral, or environmental indignities, whether intentional or unintentional, that communicate hostile, derogatory, or negative racial slights and insults toward people of color.” Examples of other microaggressions are ‘You don’t dress like a gay person’, ‘You throw like a girl’, ‘You’re so articulate’, or ‘You’re really pretty for a dark-skinned girl’. The question ‘Where are you really from?’ is a racial microaggression because it points out the fact that a person looks different from what is thought of as “normal,” that they’re “unusual” or “exotic.” The subtext is that being white is what is expected and accepted, and any other race or ethnicity should be commented on or isn’t ‘authentic enough’.
I don’t really get asked ‘Where are you really from?’ that often anymore, but when I was a lot younger, it was really common for other kids to ask it when meeting me for the first time; it happened whether it was at a new summer camp, during the first day of school, or when I was being introduced to my white friends’ grandparents. It made me feel uncomfortable because asking ‘Where are you really from?’ implied that I didn’t belong here. It also confused me because I really am from America. I’ve lived here my entire life. My passport says USA but more importantly, my mind, soul, and heart say the same. However, as evident in the exchange above, no one lets up until I say something like, “My parents are from the Philippines, but I was born and raised here.” That’s when they are finally satisfied. Me, not so much. The fact that my parents are immigrants is part of my story but it isn’t my whole story. I want to be defined as American, not just Asian, except there’s a divide between how other people perceive me and my actual lived experience, and that can make hearing the question ‘Where are you really from?’ even more frustrating. I never made a big deal about it when I was a kid because I knew they meant no harm. Most of the time racial microaggressions like ‘Where are you really from?’ are never intended as hurtful. They’re said with little conscious awareness of their meanings and effects. However, “their slow accumulation during a childhood and over a lifetime is in part what defines a marginalized experience, making explanation and communication with someone who does not share this identity particularly difficult,” according to microaggressions.com, a community project and blog that seeks to provide a visual representation of everyday microaggressions through shared stories.
I’m not bothered by people asking me about my race and in fact I talk about it pretty often, especially being at Mount Holyoke and working for the Cultural Centers. However, the appropriate context and timing is key. I think that people of color tend to be very open about race and are normally willing to share about their heritage, culture, and/or their personal experiences as a POC, whether it be in a casual conversation or serious dialogue. But when the question is asked very early in an interaction, it immediately becomes clear the asker isn’t interested in you as a person, but how you can be categorized by a label. Oftentimes, it seems as though, rather than trying to find a true point of connection with you, their question is motivated by a fascination that borderlines on exoticism. A person’s ethnic background is a personal topic and just being curious about it does not give you permission to ask about it in the first 15 minutes of a conversation, just as being curious about a giant scar on someone’s face does not give one license to ask about it right away. When getting to know someone for the first time there’s lots to be curious about, but do you really need to know what someone’s racial background is in order to interact with them or question them when they tell you where they are from? Try a question that is less threatening and gives the other person more of a chance to own their own narrative. For example: Have you always lived around here? Where’s home for you? Where did you grow up? What was your childhood like?
Even though it might be easier to give in and just give them the reply they’re looking for, bringing up why the question is problematic is really important. Tanzina Vega (CNN national reporter for race and inequality in America) who recently gave a talk here at MHC said it perfectly: “The next time you want to inquire about someone’s race, ethnicity or national origin, ask yourself: Why do I want to know? Or better yet, rather than asking anyone ‘Where are you really from?’ try listening — or letting that person ask you a question — instead.”
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