I’m Wasian.
My dad is Portuguese, and my mom is Filipino. I’m very proud of my heritage and strongly identify with both cultures.
I know being biracial is a beautiful thing but with that comes a sense of constant invalidation by others when it comes to my race.
A few weeks ago my friend called me a “spicy white person”. I’m not a white person. I’m not white passing by any means.
I feel like comments like this come from the consensus that Asians are often labelled as the “model minority” and in my personal experience have been categorized separately from other BIPOC.
I haven’t lived the same life as a white person. I have experienced racism and bigotry in the past.
I feared for myself and my family amid the COVID-19 pandemic.
When I was little, other kids made jokes about my eyes and mocked me by pulling the outer corners of their eyes.
Every time people make comments regarding my level of Asianness or whiteness it feels like I’m being put in this box.
For a long time, when my schools conducted diversity surveys, there was no box for me to check for my race, so I usually just picked one or the other.
I grew up with only my Portuguese side, my avô (grandfather) and avó (grandmother) were a big part of my upbringing.
I never grew up around other Filipinos other than my mom. My parents immigrated here at a time when they were forced to assimilate into Canadian culture.
Because of this, I didn’t get the cultural exposure on my Filipino side that I did with my Portuguese side.
I don’t have a lolo (grandfather) or lola (grandmother) and my mom can no longer speak Tagalog fluently.
Which is another internal struggle I carry with me. I looked Asian enough but I didn’t act Asian enough.
By “Asian enough” I don’t mean that I’m a good student who sings, plays piano and doesn’t know how to drive.
I do all of that.
I mean, not Filipino enough in the sense that I didn’t have the same experiences as my Filipino peers.
Growing up, I had several Portuguese and Filipino friends. At lunchtime in elementary school, I asked my Filipino friend why he was eating his rice with his hands, and he looked at me like I was crazy.
There have been countless times when my Filipino friends make jokes that reference our culture that I don’t understand and it makes me feel like an outsider.
I bonded more culturally with my Portuguese friends, but my dilemma is that I don’t look Portuguese.
I could never quite fit in. If I did, it didn’t feel like it.
Now that I’m older I still struggle with being caught between two different worlds, but I am learning about my culture and accepting the beauty in my uniqueness.
