I grew up white and only became Asian American in my 30s.
Odd statement to make, but an honest one. My mom was from Hiroshima Japan and at the age of 12 had lost her family, home, friends, to the atomic bombing on August 6, 1945. She met my dad, a white, American serving in the US Air Force stationed near Tokyo. They married at US embassy in Tokyo in 1959 and then came to the United States.
My mother faced a lot of prejudice and racial slurs when she arrived. She hadn’t expected that, after all it was 14 years later, and she had lost all that she loved in the war. She decided not to mention Hiroshima and kept a low profile. She worked on her English language skills, and within 5 years became a US Citizen. She “Americanized “(her word) our home. We didn’t have Japanese decorations, and she didn’t own any kimonos. She delighted in sharing her favorite Japanese fairy tales like Urashima Taro, in English.
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