The Division of Self, the Division of Identity
Trigger Warning: Racial Slurs Used in Context, Mental Health
By Ethan Rome, DWC Director of Marketing
How we are defined is important. It helps tell the world our values, our morals, and our interests. But who makes that definition? Do we set the parameters ourselves by means that we dictate? Or is it determined by our background, heritage, and childhood?
As with most things in life, I suspect it’s a little of everything. There are factors we cannot control that play insurmountably in how we are viewed, including skin color, eye shape, and our parent’s socio-economic status. But there are other things that ebb and flow with our own desires like our morals, our interests, and the places we go. And then there are things that just happen, random events that you may not even realize are significant until ten years later when you look back at your life and realize that one seemingly meaningless decision, event, or person, changes the trajectory of your whole life.
Looking back at these things in my own life, it’s easy to point out why I made certain decisions. However, in those moments, there is no way I could have known why. As most people do, I make decisions in the present based on factors that I think I have set. But ten years from now, I’m certain I will realize that it could not have been any other way. We could go on for days dissecting every detail, but today I want to focus on a particular one. In light of Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month, I want to speak about one of the most prominent factors that has created a division in my own self.
I am half Korean and half Scandinavian. Which in my life has meant I am not enough of anything to anyone. Everyone sees me as an “other.” I cannot count the number of times a White person has asked me, “so are you Chinese or something?” Or the number of times an Asian person simply won’t speak to me until I’m able to gently assert my own Asian-ness (by somehow slipping it into the dead conversation, or saying “thank you” in Korean). Or the number of times someone of any race has said “so what are you?” I have been called both “chink-eyes” and “the white boy.” Growing up, I can only remember having one mixed-race friend and recall often wishing I could “just be normal.” There was a period of my life when I tried to pass (as singularly White). People would ask me, “So what are you?” I would reply “I’m normal, you know White.” I can confidently say now that White does not equal “normal.” There is nothing wrong with being White, but we can’t allow it to be the standard to which all other races must be compared. You are not irregular or weird because of your skin tone, culture, or ethnicity.
Everywhere I go, I feel left out or pushed aside by the people that I feel look like me or think like me. Feelings of dismissal and ostracization can lead to serious disorders. Studies have shown that people of mixed race “were the most likely to screen positive or at-risk for alcohol/substance use disorders, anxiety, depression, eating disorders, and psychosis” (Imposter Syndrome in Multiracial Individuals). Because of this, I have always longed for a community that I felt I belonged to, but that also one that wanted me.
Due to this longing for community I have always tried new clubs, sports and activities. When I went to college, I was still searching for that sense of belonging. Therefore, I searched through the college club directory and decided to try breaking (or breakdancing). The intensity and uniqueness of breaking was reminiscent of watching Bruce Lee, one of the few male Asian icons in American culture. I saw something of myself in those bboys. Thus began my dance journey.
The breakers, and breaking in general, were very welcoming. They themselves came from all kinds of backgrounds, some grew up breaking, some only started a year ago, most were self-taught, all of them were glad to teach what they knew and have a conversation. This was likely aided by the fact that they were all so different from each other, dancers were Asian, Pacific Islander, Middle Eastern, White, Black, and Hispanic. It was possibly the most diverse group on campus in terms of race/ethnicity. During this time, my feelings of unease or dismissal subsided, it does not matter what you look like when everyone looks different from the person standing next to them. However, being mixed raced is a unique beast that may slumber, but never dies.
During my time as a bboy, I also started to take classes in the Dance Department, ballet and modern specifically. Entering into the Dance Department came with the shock of the technical details of classical dance, as well as the fact that I was pretty much the only Asian person in the department, and one of the few people of color. I was suddenly back to being an “other.” Dancers are largely open-minded and accepting people. But even well-intentioned people might not notice their microaggressions, or don’t understand why calling me a “ninja” is maybe not the compliment they think it is (ninja are Japanese, I’m Korean, ninja were also often viewed as individuals without honor, assassins sent to do the dirty work and were shunned for completing the tasks given to them). My newfound passion in modern created the next division of my identity. Was I a breaker, or was I a modern dancer? For many reasons I chose to finish my degree in dance, and attempt a career as a “modern dancer.”
Moving to Seattle was a significant change in many ways, and it too was just a random event that happened to happen. Living in Seattle opened the door of contemporary dance. Contemporary has its own confusing and mixed background. Did it come from the lyrical/contemporary world? Did it come from the contemporary ballet world? Is it neither? Is it both? Perhaps it's because of this ambiguity that I became so enamored with it. It is almost a blank canvas, to be determined and designed by me. It is a place where I can express myself fully. I can utilize my classical training, I can incorporate my breaking origin. There is no one to tell me what I am or can do as a contemporary artist. I can use my art to express any idea I want such as my Korean heritage.
This piece was created in response to the recent outbreak of anti-Asian hatred
After moving here I also started to feel that I wasn’t quite as much of an outsider. They are still relatively few, but I have met more Hapa (a Hawaiian word meaning “half,” it has been co-opted by the half/mixed-Asian community and has its own controversy behind it) here than in the rest of my life combined. It has been wonderful to connect with others like me and to learn that I was not alone. I do not think the answer to solving this problem is simply to have more mixed raced babies, in fact, that too can be problematic; “We could have such beautiful babies'' is a terrible thing to say, reduces someone to their race, a singular part of their identity, and tokenizes certain races. It’s another example of a micro-aggression and how people often don’t understand that their “compliment” is actually quite demeaning.
So what can we do?
You can help by taking a moment to put yourself in someone else’s shoes. Your compliment may be an insult to someone else (one man’s trash…). Do they understand that you meant to compliment them? Do you understand the cultural context you might be implying? Allow others to be themselves, accept them for who they are and let them demonstrate to you how they wish to be treated. Authentic representation also tells people they matter and shows them they are not alone. If you are multi-racial, then be yourself! If it is a part of you, don’t try to hide it, it very likely won’t work anyway.
If you feel you are an “other” I encourage you to take a deep breath, you are not alone. It may take time, it may be painful, but you can find ways to connect if you keep pushing yourself. Remove yourself from your ego, from notions of who you or other people think you need to be or should accomplish. Do not be afraid to enjoy something simply because other people look down on you for it, they probably just don’t understand it well enough. Your community might not look the way you envision it now, in fact, it is very likely to look entirely different, but it is out there. Alan Watts once said, “So don't worry too much, somebody's interested in everything. And anything you can be interested in, you'll find others will.”
Looking back at it now I see that there was really no other way, I was never going to fully be a bboy, I was never going to fully be a modern dancer; I will never be fully Asian nor fully White, I always have and always will be split. But that is not necessarily a bad thing. I am more empathic, more understanding, and more accepting because of it. And I am a significantly more unique artist because of it. I learned to see the strengths of my divisions. My only regret was how long I tried to hide and failed to see how my uniqueness can define my positive attributes as well as the negatives.
Looking back at it now I am grateful for my own confusing and mixed background.