"Come on, people, isn't it OBVIOUS??"

I was sitting in class yesterday, getting organized, when a woman of Asian descent sat in the desk next to mine. I didn't really pay much attention to her other than to note her presence, until she asked me in heavily accented English, "Do you speak Mandarin?"

Now. I have NEVER been asked this question by anyone, let alone another Asian. There is a not-often-spoken rule that in general, Twinkies and non-Twinkies can tell each other apart with fair accuracy. In addition, I've been told this by enough friends who have grown up in various Asian nations that I would believe it: There are apparently definite differences in physical features and that if you have grown up in one of these countries, you can tell people of different national origins apart...and that I definitely look Korean. So I was taken by complete surprise. My knee jerk reaction was a confused stare, followed by a dirty, "you obviously have two heads" look and an annoyed, "No."

It was her turn to look utterly confused. Seeing this, I looked directly at her and explained somewhat testily, "I'm not Chinese. I'm Korean. And I grew up here in the States."

Wilting under my level stare, she said only, "Oh...you look Chinese..."

I was so irritated by this that I couldn't think of a polite response. So I said nothing.

Rationally, I know that just because I think my "American-ness" is self-evident doesn't mean that all other people notice it. If I assume it is salient, that assumption is substantiated only by my own egocentrism. And there's nothing wrong with being Chinese or with not growing up here. It's okay to not be a "banana." I have no logical reason for feeling so irritated at being mistaken for either a Chinese person or an Asian-American who didn't actually grow up in this country.

Why, then, do I feel so insulted?

Poem

I'm feeling poetic today.

I, Too

I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

Tomorrow,
I’ll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody’ll dare
Say to me,
“Eat in the kitchen,”
Then.

Besides,
They’ll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed.

I, too, am America.

-- Langston Hughes