Where are you from?

A self-documentary on origins

by Leanne Yanabu

After I graduated from high school, I went to a school near Philadelphia to attend Haverford College. The school was laid-back and studious at the same time. I fit in very well. I was there for six years.

I didn't notice that people asked me where I was from, or at least it didn't bother me. When people asked, I said I was from Hawaii, and that was that. Some people got mixed up, and thought I was Hawaiian since I said I was from Hawaii. They didn't realize that unlike, say, someone from California calling themselves a Californian, people from Hawaii do not call themselves Hawaiian unless they have Native Hawaiian blood in them.

I didn't have any problems at Haverford, but I guess I must have been pretty sheltered. The first time I realized that people were judging me by what I looked like was when I went back to California for a Christmas break. My relatives took me up to Lake Tahoe, and one night I got lost in the neighborhood. I knocked on a door to ask for help, and the young boy answering the door called out, "Mom! There's a Chinese lady at the door!"

How mortifying. But most of the time when I was in undergrad, I was oblivious of my effect on others as an Asian-American.

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