Hi Kastel, As you already know, my bloodline focal point is found somewhere at the juncture of convoluted merging paths of Negro (I am not sure this is the politically correct designation, just as I was not aware of the fine distinction between Gypsy and Roma until DJ had pointed it out to), French, Hakka and Shanghainese Chinese. I specify Hakka, in case Hakka does not turn out to be of the Han race after all. I specify Shanghainese, because my mom always does, especially to non-Shanghainese Chinese.
I do have an English Jewish half-brother married to a Chinese Moslem (of the ethnic minority group Hui) residing in Beijing and a Russian Jewish half-brother (Bostonian Russian Jewish mother) residing in Moscow. There are many finer complications branching off here, there and everywhere, including a cousin born of a Russian Swede mom (I think the Swedes had done a Napoleon on Mother Russia once upon a time) and my paternal uncle, now residing in Sacramento, various nieces and nephews of Germanic, Italian, Japanese … and even of Chinese lineage :0)
By the Russian Jewish half-brother, I have a niece, Yolanda Chen, close to my age, a world triple jump champion and one-time Russian Playboy Cover Girl, now celebrity sports anchor …
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and, oops, yes, a critical bit of data for the David Dukes of this world, I myself look Filipino if I am in Asia, and American Indian if I am in Ecuador, but with big round eyes, darker skin, especially after 3 hours of sun, and actually, not meaning to boast … well, better not;
And, so, well, anyway, on the subject of racism, bigotry, the majority picking on minority, and the related subject of “anti-xyz”, I will relate some anecdotes …
1. When I was growing up in China (up to age 10), the Chinese moms used to whisper to each other how light, handsome and plump their kids were, and how dark and scrawny I was. I got even easily because their daughters preferred me, even at 8, and so, I never cared to hang out with nice plump light skinned boys, much preferring their sisters, hah!.
2. After arriving in the US, a smorgasbord of girls, girls and more girls, I was fairly indiscriminant in the supermarket of life, though my mom consistently preferred girls from old countries’ families (any old country, but old country). Do not ask me which ones are the best.
3. A kid of my Negro cousin, last name Chen, looking totally Afro-American (his grandpa, my uncle’s first wife was Negro, second wife Russian Swede), was an assistant affirmative action director for a US government agency in the early 80s. When I visited him in Washington, he took me around to all his colleagues’ offices – “see, I do have Chinese relative (more Chinese than he, anyway) and did not just make up my name to get the job”.
4. My mom has a problem with my English half-brother’s daughter (going to school in US) dating an Afro-American (there Jay, you got the correct term), claiming that the upbringing is simply too different. I just stare at mom, make a face, and say nothing:0)
5. My wife had a problem when her sister dated an Afro-American in stationed in HK for Disney, without really ever clarifying why. I look at her, then the skin on my arm, and squint my eyes, saying nothing, also;0)
6. My in-laws adore me, but they are quick on the explanation whenever the subject of my complexion comes up in polite company, when I usually and casually say, “I am part Negro”. The listener generally, Chinese, react by seemingly having heard wrong and say “what?”. My in-laws can usually be counted on to launch into a complicated explanation quicker than my MS Windows ME launch.
Which aspect of me do I appreciate the most … Chinese culture, American education, Filipino look, New Ec diligence, old world thrift, gasp inducing Negro umph, or the Latino attitude? I like them all, and would have it no other way.
I realize that I am terrible. I therefore fear what my future daughters (fortune teller says I will have 8 of them) will bring home … some boys with lots of metal pierced through their body parts. For nothing else will likely upset me, not even them bringing home girls. If I have sons, they would probably upset me by becoming scientists or something, unless of course they bring back boys.
Yes, I too have phobias. Better to realize them.
Chugs, Jay |
