Ching Chong.

This is my mother with me shortly after I was born.

This morning I had an exam in "Minority Group Relations", a class I've had a love-hate relationship with since day one. Hate because invariably some member of the dominant group (white) expresses their belief in some stereotype against ANY minority group and then a lot of yelling ensues. While the black people in my class hear about their violence, oppression of women, and the Iranian girl hears about how people do not want her family in their neighborhood the stereotypes and prejudices thrown in my Amerasian direction are a little different. Mostly there's a grumbled "They're so fucking smart" or a mumbled "They make so much money" from behind me. Guess what folks? I stereotypically have 14 years of classical music training under my belt, I can hear you.

The material in this class already serves to make me a little indignant about the society I'm part of so when things like this show up on the internet I'm furious. I'd love to think that I'm a big enough person to listen to her and say, "Hmm. Maybe she just doesn't have any Asian friends that she can talk to and humanize the scary 'other' for herself" but I can't. She apparently has some Asian friends, who she isn't try to offend here with her rant and she also thinks she's onto something here. The last time I remember someone talking in the library it was an old white man. He was a professor who was almost adorably confused but still, people are rude in the library, it happens.

I understand that she might be a little angry that Asians make up a measly 3.5% of the country she lives in and then 42% of them have college degrees while 28% of Caucasians have college degrees but maybe she should consider keeping her mouth shut or just sending a friend an irritated text. Someone interested in Poly Sci might also consider keeping her bigoted prejudiced views a little more secret because the internet never dies. In the end, I just keep telling myself that my chances of graduating from college are a lot higher and on a more shallow, catty girl way, that my boobs are real. I also keep listening to this, over and over and over again because I wish so dearly that I could approach all this ignorance with laughter, a little sarcasm and maybe even something closer to bewilderment but that hasn't happened yet. Maybe his adorable guitar playing will carry over into my life.