breathe in, laugh out

I grew up in a white family from Long Island.  My mom is obviously a white person, as is my dad.  I was told my dad’s family comes from Greece, and T-Diddy’s comes from Italy, so I was supposedly a pretty simple Mediterranean mix; but ever since I was young, my ethnicity was brought into question.  I remember stories of being an infant in the stroller and people asking my parents, “Where did you get her?”  Even since I was that young, I looked adopted.  I didn’t look like my white parents; I looked Asian.

The first time I remember feeling someone being prejudice towards me was in third grade.  I went to a very white school.  There was one kid in my class who was half black, and he’s the one that started it all… running through the halls, pulling his eyelids towards the sides of his head yelling “Ching Chang Chong-Courtney is Chinese!”

“I AM NOT!” was my only response.  I don’t think I believed there was anything wrong with being Chinese, but someone was calling me something I believed was inaccurate, and he was doing it in a mocking tone.  It was mean and I didn’t like it.

I continued being asked if I was Asian growing up… by everyone from my teachers, to friends, to colleagues, to random old men on the streets, to the Korean ladies who did my nails (“You just like us.  You Korean too!  You are you are!  You mommy a little Korean, isn’t she?!”)  I once had to put T-Diddy on the phone mid-pedicure to let Grace know she was definitely not Korean, and neither was I.  At some point, it stopped bothering me.  It wasn’t a mockery anymore, it was more an inquiry… and I think Asian people are beautiful!  Why should I be offended?

I’ve definitely questioned my parents…”What if I got switched up in the hospital??”  T-Diddy has consistently convinced me, “Daddy saw you coming out!  You belong to us!”  “Well maybe one of you is Asian!!!”

Then Ancestry.com becomes a thing.  You can just spit in a tube and find out where your ancestors came from!  I thought about doing it for a while.  I warned my parents the gig was up.  It was time to find out once and for all if there was some secret Asian blood hiding in there. So I bit the bullet.  I ordered the kit, spit in a little tube, mailed it back, and after a very long time (at least 8 weeks?) I got an email:  “Your Ancestry Results are In!”

I was nervous and excited to load my results.  I’m 34 years old and I’m FINALLY going to figure out if all of the random people in the world have been right… if I really am Asian!  My phone slowly loaded the results…. and…. wouldn’t ya know it???

I’m African.

I’m an African-American.  Me, little old Ching Chang Chong Chinese Courtney is an African-American woman.  Do you know how many scholarships I would have applied for had I known this information 17 years ago?  This explains my ass, that’s for sure.  Maybe this is why I’ve always felt a longing towards my homeland, and such a connection when I finally got to visit my ancestors a few years ago.

Ok I’m being an asshole.  I’m only 4% African, but that’s 4% more African than I believed I was yesterday.  This is an exciting day.  I’m just beginning to learn so much about myself and my ancestors.  The rest of the results were pretty boring: Greek and Italian… some Middle Eastern.  And… I’m zero percent Asian.  ZERO PERCENT.  

Mind boggling… truly mind boggling.  In a world full of racial sensitivity it’s really interesting to see where we all came from, and in the grand scheme of things, aren’t we all just humans? 

Peace and love…. xoxo 

Gossip Girl