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- Oct 23, 2008
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Chink, gook, slit eyes, nip, jap…
Words that have cut through me, and left an indelible mark that I cannot wipe away. These words have caused me to hate my culture, reject my roots and have left me feeling abandoned and isolated.
I know that they’re only words, but they’ve come from people – children and adults – who don’t even know me, who would probably laugh if they only knew that I don’t speak any language other than English, that I can’t use chopsticks correctly, and that I have a Chinese name which I can’t even pronounce.
Yes. I fail at being Chinese.
But while I’ve always considered myself a New Zealander, others may not see me in the same way, which is why I’ll always be on the periphery.
I learnt about racism and the shame of being “different” from a young age.
“Go back to where you came from, you f...ing chink!”
The boy with red hair and large freckles proceeds to hoik in my face. I struggle to wipe away the thick, green globule of mucous as it drips down my eye and onto my cheek. I am five years old, and it’s my first day of school. I had never known that I was different, never had a clue that I didn’t belong here. Until that day.
This was the first of many racist encounters that I’ve experienced throughout my life, and all here – in New Zealand, the place of my birth.
I also recall, as a teenager, my then-boyfriend’s mother expressing her disdain whenever she’d hear Asians speaking “loudly, in their own language”, along with other passing comments – “All Asians have flat heads.”
But racism is here. It’s rife. It’s maybe not part of your everyday, but I’ve felt it, and I’m aware of it, in mine. It’s the reason I’ll never be considered a real New Zealander – and why I’ll always be on the periphery, looking from the outside in.
http://thewireless.co.nz/themes/home/a-grain-of-truth-racism-exists-in-new-zealand
She should ask Leongsam about how many incidents he has had....
Words that have cut through me, and left an indelible mark that I cannot wipe away. These words have caused me to hate my culture, reject my roots and have left me feeling abandoned and isolated.
I know that they’re only words, but they’ve come from people – children and adults – who don’t even know me, who would probably laugh if they only knew that I don’t speak any language other than English, that I can’t use chopsticks correctly, and that I have a Chinese name which I can’t even pronounce.
Yes. I fail at being Chinese.
But while I’ve always considered myself a New Zealander, others may not see me in the same way, which is why I’ll always be on the periphery.
I learnt about racism and the shame of being “different” from a young age.
“Go back to where you came from, you f...ing chink!”
The boy with red hair and large freckles proceeds to hoik in my face. I struggle to wipe away the thick, green globule of mucous as it drips down my eye and onto my cheek. I am five years old, and it’s my first day of school. I had never known that I was different, never had a clue that I didn’t belong here. Until that day.
This was the first of many racist encounters that I’ve experienced throughout my life, and all here – in New Zealand, the place of my birth.
I also recall, as a teenager, my then-boyfriend’s mother expressing her disdain whenever she’d hear Asians speaking “loudly, in their own language”, along with other passing comments – “All Asians have flat heads.”
But racism is here. It’s rife. It’s maybe not part of your everyday, but I’ve felt it, and I’m aware of it, in mine. It’s the reason I’ll never be considered a real New Zealander – and why I’ll always be on the periphery, looking from the outside in.
http://thewireless.co.nz/themes/home/a-grain-of-truth-racism-exists-in-new-zealand
She should ask Leongsam about how many incidents he has had....