The Journey to Self Definition By Cassaundra Lui My mother is Black. My father is Asian. That makes me half Black, half Asian…right? Growing up, it was always my mom, my dad, and myself. From a young age, I was exposed to situations that initiated my struggles with racial and ethnic identity. Evidently I inherited my father’s Chinese genes more prominently than I did my mother’s Trinidadian genes. With my dark hair that is often worn straight, my nose that lacks a defined bridge, and my droopy eyelids, at first glance, it is understandable to assume I am fully Asian, however this is hardly factual. When I was younger, I remember strangers mistaking my mother as my babysitter and assuming my Asian aunt was my guardian instead. I recall several people asking me, “Are you Filipino?”, which only heightened my confusion. Being from such a diverse family, it was inevitable to have people judge us. However, the judgment only progressed when my family of three became a family of two, and so did my skepticism about who I truly was.
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