Her Story: The Lonely Experience of Being Biracial

I grew up in a predominantly white community, and at times it was easy to forget that I wasn’t white. More often than not, when someone would bring attention to the fact that I was different from them, I would feel confused, because I saw myself as equal to my Caucasian counterparts. Sometimes I would get offended, because in my mind I didn’t want to be different. The problem lies in the fact that I am of mixed heritage – I am both Chinese and Caucasian, and I proudly identify with both. 

You don’t often hear about racism from people who are mixed-race; in my opinion, our my experiences as a POC are often invalidated. I can’t compare my experiences to those of others in the BIPOC community; everyone’s relationship to the concept of race, and the way they’ve encountered racism, is different. While others may “have it worse” than I do, my experience as a mixed person feels unique, and not often talked about enough. 

Growing up, I understood to a certain level the privilege of being Caucasian and having a Caucasian father. But what my white community could never understand is what it’s like to be Chinese.

As a mixed child, I never felt any sense of belonging. Other BIPOC may have a community they can turn to – people who have experienced the same things as they have. Growing up, I wasn’t white enough for my white friends to see me as such, but I was also not Chinese enough for the Chinese community to accept me as their own. It was exhausting to hear that I was “not Asian enough” or a “fake white girl.” If I was neither of those two things then what did that make me? Being two things at once meant I could never feel connected to one community, and I never met someone in my dominantly white community whose experience I could relate to.

My childhood was often spent trying to erase the Asian part of my identity. In my world full of white people, that is all I wanted to be. I’d feel offended when someone addressed my Asian features. I would be insulted when a white friend would remind me that I was different from them. I would see red when a friend would joke that I was a “bad Asian” when I recount how I used to struggle with chopsticks. I would only date white boys, who found me attractive because I did not look “too” Asian. I never felt like I was Chinese enough to be Chinese, and I never felt Caucasian enough to be Caucasian. It was a long time before I realized I did not have to pick an identity; I could be both of my identities at once. 

Part of me always wonders, am I Chinese enough to consider myself a POC? Is it unfair for me to categorize myself as a POC when my experiences are different from someone without a mixed identity? 

Trying to explain the struggles of being biracial and my experiences with racism and identity crisis is difficult. I was already half white, how could I experience any sort of racism when only half of me was Chinese? I believe knowing I was not entirely a minority somehow made it easier to subject me to racist and belittling jokes surrounding my identity.

I try to remind myself that I can’t allow other people’s racism – or my own internalized racism – to stop me from finding comfort in my Asian or POC community. A biracial identity does not make my experiences as a person of colour any less valid; they make them unique. 

It took me many years to realize the internalized racism that manifested itself in my self-esteem, and it took me even longer to be proud of my identity. My mixed heritage is now a topic that I can confidently discuss with others. I am proud to have more than one heritage, and I am proud to identify with both parts of me.