Wednesday, November 09, 2016

I do not fit

The biggest thing that this election has told me in screaming all caps red letters is that this country does not want me or anything that comes from me.

I am a first generation immigrant--my father came to this country in 1974 to Ohio.  My younger sister was born in 1975 there.  Also known as an anchor baby.  The dreaded anchor baby.

We moved to Georgia in the summer of 1978.  I do not remember much about the move, other than it was really hot that summer.  We lived with some cousins until we got an apartment in Stone Mountain.  Two years later, my parents moved to the home they currently live in.

I went to school, where I was asked if I ate dogs at home, used chopsticks.  Also people would speak jibberish to me acting like they could speak Korean.  And people would ask if I knew other Asian people like the Filipino kid who was three grades younger than me.  Because all Asians, we know each other.

I was called a dog, a whore, a banana, a gook, a wonton, and that chink bitch.  I had few friends and never seemed to fit in.  I accepted that as my lot because I was the First Other Different.

Black girls would play with my hair and tell me that is was so nice.  Then I was labeled the chink dyke bitch.  It was fine because I did not know what these words meant.

I graduated high school and went to college in Atlanta.  It was fine, but the technical school I attended really did not feed my soul.  I got an engineering degree because my father had one and the limits to what I could do was what my father told me.

After graduation, it got better.  I made real friends and met the man who is now my husband.  I became a mother and am in the middle of raising two vibrant girls.  I felt that I fit.

This election reminded me that to some (not all), I am just a dog, a whore or a chink bitch.  How dare I think I could ever think that I could ever fit in.

And to that I say, bless your heart.

Which is Southern for FUCK YOU.

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