I’m going for total transparency. I try to explain being Eurasian as best as I can. I’m not pretending to be a moral or good person. I am exactly what I am, meaning I was born from two people whose intentions were never clear. You can develop your own theories; Oedipal, Freudian, emasculation, narcissism, failed expectations, mental illness, hybrid depression, anything you want, but I will tell you what it’s like.
When I see stories like this, the first thing I think is that, shit, I was almost there. Please believe me. Being a Eurasian male is something almost inexplicably terrifying to ourselves. Not to all of us, but to some of us.
I hold back on a lot of my explanations for two reasons.
- I have the number one half-Asian blog, if not website, on the internet right now so eventually I’m going to catch the eye of someone who knows me. This would essentially be familial suicide.
- I don’t want to genuinely talk about the kind of mental illness I went under out of fear of… whatever. You guess. Flashing lights, sirens, etc. Sad to say, I went through a phase like that, but I’m over it now, ironically after keeping this blog.
- During this phase I felt like I was no longer in control. It’s hard to explain, when your mind is so far gone that you feel as if you no longer own your own actions. I felt like I was being trapped in my own appearance, desperate to claw my way out by any means. And the rage, and anger. The sense of being abandoned, the loneliness, the isolation.
I myself admit that I’m a far cry from how either the Asian community or the white community would expect of someone from my educational background.
I also admit that, as far as my readers can tell, I’m “not all there,” I’m a very emotionally damaged person, hurt at a deep level and deeply distrustful of human beings. I am not a good person, I am in fact probably the complete opposite of what a Tiger Mom and a conservative dad – or any kind of upstanding human being – would want from a child. Again, far from the “Eurasian” master race myth, but…
There’s one thing I know and that is that my kind of problem isn’t unique. Up until I went to college I never met another Eurasian male with a white father except for one, who was half Philippino and huge.
I thought this absence was unusual in retrospect. Most of the Eurasians I knew were girls with white fathers or either gender with Asian fathers. It’s as if we were just dropping like flies early on.
I want to explain why guys like the above story are pulling knives on people.
We snap, that’s all it is, really, and the reason is because we feel as if we have no hope.
It’s not like full Asians, who have the hope of becoming rich and getting married. With Eurasians we’re essentially told from birth that looking how we look is somehow a crime.
Full Asian guys say, hey, at least my mom and dad love me, they support me and wish the best for me. For Eurasian guys, it’s like, we don’t even know our own parents. We don’t know who they are. They don’t even know who they are. I mean if you think about it you have two people from totally different backgrounds getting together for reasons that neither one of them is perfectly clear about…. and if they were clear about it, they’d be bad fucking reasons.
Essentially the fetishization clouds their relationship so much that they wind up having such a weird, weird dynamic between the two, and more often than not they converse in broken English. Sometimes I wonder if my mother’s frustration also stemmed from her inability to express herself clearly.
I mean, Christ, just think about it. Just think about it for a moment.
- It’s an Asian woman being penetrated by a white man. His arm around her in all your photos. White dominating Asian.
- You go online and see people who look like you absent from everywhere. From pornos, from books, from movies. You see Keanu Reeves, that’s all.
- You look Asian, but you don’t. You can’t be Asian. Your dad is white. You can’t be.
- You go out and try to make friends. Then the jokes start. Small dick this, chink that.
- You say, fuck this, I’m going to be proud to be Asian.
- Then you realize that Asian men around you are a laughing stock as well.
- You catch your mom watching Bradley Cooper. She’s watching pale, big nosed white guys that look just like your dad. Forget Oedipal – talk Freudian.
- You look Asian. Even your own dad thinks Asian jokes are funny. He’s totally aloof. Even your own mom thinks they’re funny.
- Your mom makes comments about your tall nose, your eyes, as if you are a doll. You’re not Asian, she says. But you are.
- You begin to hate everything about yourself. Your hair texture. It looks Asian. Your nose looks Asian. Your eyes look a little bit Asian. You want to just… claw them out, pull your fucking hair out. You’re white. My dad is white.
- Maybe you’re good looking, maybe you’re not. It doesn’t matter – because you’re still a chink and good looking chinks don’t matter.
- You begin to feel trapped, and hopeless. The Hapa beauty myths don’t help. Most people just look at you like a chink. You complain to your mom, but she’s in the arms of a man who looks exactly like the people calling you a chink, day in, and day out.
- Boom. You realize that you’re in the defeated class – but who defeated you?
- Wait for it – your own parents, the people who should have been with you since day one. And not only that, but it dawns on you that Asian culture itself, the culture you were raised halfway in, was and is so callous as to not give a single shit about your wellbeing. It was as if, here’s some white blood, deal with it.
It’s all incredible bizarre. And it has to do with something I still haven’t figured out yet. Just the insane degree of cruelty present in Asian culture that places the individual last, or the massive degree of racism in white culture, just combined for a nuclear level meltdown.
I’m past it now. I’ve moved on. It’s just fair to point out that being Eurasian born in the 1980’s meant that we went through an incubation period. I think this blog should just be a monument to the shit we had to deal with. It takes thirty years for a person to cook fully and within those thirty years some of us just can’t take the heat.