Got Me Mixed Up

A personal essay by Isabelle Mahealani

Unless you are or are the parents of a mixed race child, it is difficult to understand what it means to be mixed. Living in modern day America, the “melting pot of peoples”, it is evident that the culmination of so many different cultures and races are more divided than ever. Somehow still so politically extreme. In a country where as of 2015, one-seventh of children born were mixed-race, racial stigmatisms and stereotyping seem to be just as strong. I am not an expert on the topic, I was simply just born a test subject to the matter. I can only speak from my personal experience, however, I do voice the concerns and struggles of an entire overlooked minority group.

I was born of Hawaiian-Chinese-East Asian-Caucasian ancestry to my Mom from Michigan, my Father from Hawaii. In the early 90’s they moved to Snohomish, Washington; a small conservative town an hour north of Seattle. They lived in a small house in a small neighborhood, just a few blocks from town. One of their neighbors, a racist and his girlfriend were disgruntled at the idea of my blonde-haired mother and my dark-skinned father being together, living together. He would come banging at my parent’s door late at night; my dad had the gun loaded just in case. The racist would throw rocks at the house, breaking in the windows. One day the racist found Jesus and my mom caught him hugging my dad looking for forgiveness. The next day, the racist went to jail after Jesus unfound him.

In the late 90’s I was born and lived in that little house too. It confused people in the grocery stores that I could belong to my mother. They constantly would stop her and ask, “Where did you adopt her from?” like I was a cute accessory to prove worldliness. I grew up being one of the only minorities in school. In the 2nd grade, a girl told me that her mom said she could invite everyone from class to her birthday party except for me. To this day I wonder why and can’t help, but remember all the parents who disapproved of my parent’s “liberal lifestyle”.

If it wasn’t challenging enough trying to fit in in at school, my parent’s family did not make that any easier. My Hawaiian-Asian side would treat me like an outsider, making comments about my skin tone, calling me Hauli and determining ability to experience Hawaiian culture by my skin’s color, like I wasn’t Hawaiian at all. In a cultural immersion camp, my light skin tone made me stand out like a sore thumb and made the equally percentaged Hawaiian children see me as an alien, as someone they couldn’t understand or could relate to. Surprisingly, my Caucasian side of the family was more accepting. They treated me for who I was, not what I looked like or should be like.

Throughout high school, I experienced quite an identity crisis regarding my own racial identity. I was confused about how I fit into each of my different pieces. Even close personal friends denied me of my identity when I stated each of my ethnicities. “You’re not Asian,” said my half Asian friend. I always felt like I had to prove to others that I was of that race. Unfortunately, my little sister didn’t have it much easier. Her American adopted Mongolian friend bullied my sister, claiming my sister racist all over social media for wearing a gold embroidered silk dress. My sister’s friend told my sister she shouldn’t be allowed to wear or express her Asian heritage because she did not “authorize” my sister’s identity (even with full proof from Ancestry DNA Testing). My sister did the best to help her friend understand what it means to be mixed but to no avail.

When it came time for graduating, I decided to embrace and celebrate my Hawaiian heritage by wearing a Haku Lei at graduation. The school’s administration shut that idea down, claiming that anyone could claim anything was their cultural customs and didn’t want some redneck students trying to walk with a confederate flag. Yes, they claimed that me wearing of a beautiful Haku Lei, a developed living art piece made by my Aunty, overnight shipped in with live flowers from Hawaii, worn for hundreds of years by Polynesian peoples was the cultural equivalent of a redneck wearing an obviously racist confederate flag. They told me they wanted me to look the same as my classmates when I never have looked like my peers in my entire life. The school district told me and my parents that if I attempted to walk with my Haku Lei, they would have security escort me out. My mom cried in the principal's office asking her to understand. Showing the ignorance I've seen in people my entire life, the Principal denied my family and I.  I did not feel any clemency when my parents had the NAACP look into the school’s treatment of minority students and I was eventually allowed to walk with my Haku Lei.

As a more realized young adult, looking back on all these experiences I can’t help but wonder why everyone wanted to fit me in this box of racial stereotypes. As a mixed person, you are conditioned to feel that you’re “not enough” of this or that. According to society, you have to fit each of your racial stigmas or you’re simply denied of being apart of that culture. Because my Chinese is shit, does that make me any less Chinese? Because I don’t dance Hula, does that make me any less Hawaiian? Because I’m lighter skinned, does that make me White or not a minority? Because I’m not white passing, does that make me not Caucasian?

The fact that society expects mixed peoples to reach some sort of racial standard is truly toxic to us. The way that society tries to act accepting by fetishizing mixed peoples when just a few years ago we were heavily scrutinized for culturally appropriating our own culture. True acceptance over toxic views needs to be embraced for the future that is the hues of brown children to come. If you are a mixed race person, I encourage you to explore every part of your cultural identity; you are validated to do so. Please educate those around you to help them understand what being mixed means because they will never experience your struggles themselves. Please also know that we mixed people are on a scale of hues, depending on your ability to carry as white-passing. All of our experiences will be different, it is so important to know that not all our struggles are the same and not to advertise yourself as someone you’re not. Have compassion for those who have struggled harder than you, who are treated worse than you have. Not all experiences are like mine, some are tougher and some are accepted from the beginning. Some mixed people will live their lives without ever being accepted by those around them. That is why the most important thing is to love and accept yourself for who you truly are, not for how much or for how little melanin is in your skin. It is also why it so important for you to represent well and educate on behalf of mixed peoples; and most of all to support and love each other as a whole. Whatever your ethnic ice cream is, Chocolate, Vanilla, Strawberry or Neopolitan; all flavors are amazing and deserve to be loved.