Being a Person of Color in America

Part 2 of a Photo Essay by Bethany Owens

Laughter filled the room. “You’re not Dominican because you were born in the U.S.” “You look like you could be Blasian — Black and Asian.” Said by a group of older Dominicans when I told them I was Dominican.

I am a proud first-generation Korean-American. I am not your lackey. I am not your punchline. I am not your checkbox for your diversity quota. I am not your doctor or the minor character; exotic secretary or romantic side story; the immigrant or the classic sidekick. I am not invisible. I am an actor, a writer, a poet, and an advocate. Regardless of what you think of me, I will be the first to join the revolutionary fight; I will be the face of change.

In high school, a lot of the white students would try to speak “like” me, or in a fashion that is most notably heard in or around African-American culture. Sometimes, if they were trying to be “funny” with me during a conversation, they’d even suck their teeth and say, “Ya mad aggy, son.” It was almost as if, because I’m black, they thought that speaking in that jargon was going to make me understand them better.

“Talking black” is a common misconception that hinders the black youth of today. Throughout my entire life, I have dealt with the constant belief that when one is educated, he or she is “talking white,” and in order to “talk black,” I mustn’t sound educated. When this thought process is applied to every day life, you take away the aspirations of several underprivileged youth. Had it not been for the role models around me, I would’ve fallen into the same predicament as those who let their dreams be taken away.

Ten more officers swarmed the booth like bees. They all looked at me. They looked at my American passport. AMERICAN, but to them I’m foreign. It occurred to me that they only ever thought of me as forever foreigner, dragon lady, and china doll.