I Wanna Be Adored

been thinking lately about the past and what it means to be an Asian American. i know what it means to lots of other Asian Americans. the differences in cultural backgrounds, the tug between traditional parents and wanting to be a normal American kid, etc. (i don’t mean to belittle that experience by summing it up in a sentence). while i can relate to that in many ways, it’s also quite different from my experience growing up, mostly due to the fact that both my parents are white. i grew up in a predominantly white, working class neighborhood south of Detroit known as Downriver. it is a vast wasteland of strip malls, big chain retail and industrial parks. there is virtually nothing unique or culturally interesting about it at all. in fact, different is bad here. stray from the pack and there will be a large scale attempt to snuff you out like a cheap cigarette butt. this provided a background for who i am today.

when i graduated from high school, i moved as soon as possible. i should have moved further, but then again i wouldn’t have met some of the most important people in my life. the racial composition of the Detroit area at the time i left was black and white. the outlying areas were mostly white with the exception of the huge Arab population in and around Dearborn. it was a shock to the system when i moved to Seattle. strangely enough, my first impression (besides the fact that people drive excruciatingly slow) was how many Asian people live here. this kind of cultural makeup was definitely foreign to me. and yet, it seemed like it fit.

i’m not really sure what i’m saying. i don’t think i’m really saying anything. i’m just letting some thoughts go free.