Where you from ?

It is funny being Asian sometimes (well actually, it is funny all the time). I didn’t grow up in a place like Los Angeles or Chicago where there were lots of other Asians. The city of Atlanta was my home, and also happens to be home to quite a lot of (non-Asian) racial history. Needless to say, race is a pretty hot topic there, whether it is discussed overtly (and it seldom was when I was there) or in the privacy of one’s surburban sprawled home that is far from the city center.

People would often ask me where I was from growing up. I had quite a sarcastic attitude about me, far before I realized that it was actually a bit rude to be so aloof. I would often answer Dayton, Ohio, which is where I was born.

“No, where are you Fruh-uhm?” they would implore.

Of course I knew what they were asking. Where were my parents from. Clearly no one could conceive that I would be Midwestern.

Sometimes people were more direct.

“Are you Chinese or Japanese?”

Well, at least this wasn’t a question about which of the lower 48 states I was from.

Sometimes I would say I was Korean. That is, when I was in the mood to be engaged in idle, meaningless conversation.

I am not saying that my culture is meaningless. Often times people had not even heard of Korea (bear in mind that American troops fought in Korea in the 1950’s). So finally when I got around to where I was from, it was such a letdown to be from a place that was so obscure.

If the inquiring party HAD heard of Korea, there would often be a follow up of an asinine comment.

“Do you know the Parks? They live in South Georgia.”
“I just love that kim chee. Oooh, it’s so spicy.”

There is always that reference to kim chee.

I know people are trying to be nice and conversational, but it was always a frustrating conversation because being Korean just was never accepted at face value. And sometimes I just wanted to be accepted at that superficial face value.