Call Me Elizabeth - A Reflection by Piper Hays

“What's your middle name?" 

It's been a while since I've said it. A while since The Incident.

The Incident: Some/Time/2010

"What's your middle name?" 

A circle of seven-year-olds is hardly a vicious place. No one would expect them to have founded a decade of lies.

"Yun." 

"That doesn't sound right," one says. He's Chinese, on both sides. I am half as Chinese as him "You don't match." 

"Yoon. Yurn." Another tries. She's white, on both sides. I'm half as white as her. "It's too hard to say." 

"Oh." I say, picking at strands of grass. I have a white face. Everyone says it. It's surprising to them, when they see me with my grandparents or mother or brother, speaking my mother's tongue.

"Are you adopted?" I've been asked, more times than I can count. No one ever asks my brother if he's adopted. He looks the perfect middle. 

"You look like an Elizabeth." A third says thoughtfully. The other kids murmur their agreement.

"Elizabeth." I say, as a test. "Piper Elizabeth Hays." 

"It fits." One says. 

So for ten years, if people ask, that's what I tell them. 

"What's your middle name?"

"Elizabeth." 

The Revelation: Some/Day/2019

I don't know when it started. 

Maybe it was when the pride I felt at being the white kid who spoke Mandarin wore off into resentment. It shouldn't be a surprise. It's in my blood.

Maybe it was when I tried on a new qipao at the mall, and someone told me I was appropriating my own culture. 

Maybe it was when I brought cong you bing for lunch and a teacher cooed over how I embraced other cultures. Like it wasn't my culture.

Maybe it was the questions. Am I enough to be a person of color despite the paleness of my skin? Am I enough to talk about my culture like a part of it, not an outsider? Am I enough for the people who don’t know me? Am I Chinese enough?

Maybe it’s the surprise I see when I open my mouth and Mandarin comes out. The surprise when I say I’m half. Half Chinese and half white, but only on the inside. 

“You don’t look Chinese.”

“Are you sure you’re half?”

Yes. I’m sure.

Maybe it was something else, one of a billion incidents. 

The Origin: My/Day/2003

My first and last name were gifts from my father. Piper is a musical name. 

My middle name was a gift from my grandfather, born in the depths of Sichuan province, and my grandmother, a daughter of the sweltering heat of Taipei. 

Hai Yun. Rhythm of the Sea. I’m named after a song. 

Why would I ever leave that behind? It’s a beautiful name. 

The Now

“What’s your middle name?”

“Yun.” 

It fits much better.