Hapaness & Cultural Identity.

So today I am going to be ranting about being multiracial. I know that in a sense, almost everyone is multiracial and not 100% a particular race, but I am talking about being multiracial in one's own cultural and immediate family background.

The term "hapa" literally means fragment, part, portion, etc. It originally came from Hawaii and was used to describe a person of mixed Asian or Pacific Islander racial/ethnic heritage. In more recent years the term has been applied to anyone of significant mixed heritage, not just Asians. However, the term is most commonly applied to Asians who are mixed with non-asian blood, usually those who are half-and-half. The reason the term has been chosen to be applied this way is probably due to the growing amount of Asians marrying non-Asians in the U.S. and other countries.

I have never really had a solitary ethnic background to identify with. Those forms with the little checkboxes that wanted you to identify your race were always very confusing to me. Am I "Caucasian", "Asian", "South East-Asian", "Filipino", or "Other"? I usually ended up checking the "Other" box to simply negate thinking about it.

MOM (Late 20's)

My Mom was born in the Philippines and came to the U.S. to be a nurse when she was in her late twenties. Like many other Filipinos, her family has a background of Chinese blood, but it was never tied to her lifestyle there.

DAD (Early 20's)

My Dad was born and raised in California to a father whose parents immigrated from Germany, and a mother whose parents immigrated from Austria.

RESULT: JULIANNA (20)

When people ask me, "So do you feel more Filipino or White?" The first thought that instantly pops into my mind is "Filipino!" I always thought that I probably felt that way because I visually look more Filipino than Caucasian. In truth, though, I've always felt closest to a Filipino that was born and raised in the U.S., minus the paternal culture factor. My father has no White relatives except for my Grandfather, who I only visited once or twice a year while I was growing up. My mother, however, is one of six. Two of my aunts live in the U.S., and the rest back in the Philippines. Lolo and Lola, my maternal grandparents, lived with my family and raised me and my siblings up until I was about six. They moved in with my Aunt when my two cousins Mei-Mei and Cyril moved to the U.S.. I spent a lot of time at my Aunt's house with my cousins and Grandparents until they moved back to the Philippines when I was ten.

Growing up, I attended many Filipino family parties and reunions. I always felt like I fit in there, and in fact, many of my mother's friends doted over me because of my white heritage (in Filipino culture the fact that you're mixed means instant beauty). I visited the Philippines and my family over there four times for weeks at a time throughout my youth. I ate lots of Filipino cooking, heard Tagalog quite often (though I never learned it thoroughly, something I regret), and knew of all the cultural jokes, practices, and expectations. I've always felt closer to my mother than my father. My Dad was born in 1946 and has a very 50's/60's mindset of what marriage and having children should be like. His interests consisted of surfing, cars, traveling, bars, and Asian women (har-har). For these reasons and many others, I've always felt tied to my mother's culture.

Taking into context where I grew up it really is no surprise. The population of my hometown consists of a striking majority of Asian and Caucasian people. All of my best friends in elementary school - save for one - were of Asian decent. It's odd, though, when I look back and at those years. From about fourth grade and on, I had this idealization of what I wished I look like: blonde, blue/green eyes, perfect ski-jump nose, pale, and thin. I always wished I looked more like my father, who I only resemble in height and weight. I'm pretty sure growing up in the O.C. played a big role in that.

Once I hit middle school, I soon found that hanging out with the white crowd was perfectly fine, but I still felt there were some things they didn't understand. I shifted to hanging out with the AZNs and found that though I could identify easily with them, I still sometimes felt like an outsider. Being half-and-half in itself was kind of interesting, but the fact that I was half Filipino made things even more complicated. Is a Filipino even considered Asian? South-East Asian? Pacific Islander? It's amusing how there is even racism and a stereotyped hierarchy amongst Asians.

Urban Dictionary:

2. Hapa girls and guys are more likely to be good-looking than any other race. Nonetheless, it does not mean that all of them are either handsome or hot, but they are just more likely to be.

And then I discovered the stereotype that many people have: half Asians always turn out beautiful! They're so cute! Ouch. That was a hard stereotype to own up to. I have always had low self-esteem, and that just made me feel unworthy of being a "hapa" or a "half asian", something that I inevitably was anyway. I went through thought cycles of idealizing "what if's" of my genetic heredity. I never considered my parents bad-looking, and once adolescence hit it was, "Oh, if only I had gotten my father's straight nose, hazel eyes, narrow face and height mixed with my mother's almond eyes, full lips and high metabolism! Why couldn't it be that way!?" I'm a lot better now, but I am still in the process of coming to terms with that which cannot be changed.

In the end, I feel like this pieced together conglomeration of American, Asian, and Filipino. I have finally somewhat mastered the skill of bringing out the strengths of each in different situations, and I've developed a pride rather than an ambivalence towards my background. I'm grateful for my heritage! It has made me open to and knowledgeable about many other cultures, and I wouldn't have it any other way.