I can't be your favorite Asian.

Yesterday, I was asked by a Lutheran minister, “Now honey, do you speak English?”

My answer. Yes.

Here is my life story.

I am from Lilburn, GA. For the first ten years of my life, I interacted with three other Asian people in my elementary school. Karen, James, Loren. They were Korean and Vietnamese. The rest of the 200 people in my class were white. It may be safe to say that I have been able to safely acclimate myself to the American South.

My cousin, who is four years older than me, used to mock me constantly for having a dopey Southern accent thanks to Harmony Grove pre-school. Two hours of back-to-back episodes of Saved by the Bell on TBS combined with some Family Matters reformed me of that through my formidable years.

I don’t know how many times that I’ve been called Juan, which is a bastardization of my last name. What part of my existence makes someone think that I’m part-Hispanic? After being called Juan for about 13 years of my life, I have permanently corrected people how to pronounce my name, INCORRECTLY. I actually was inspired by this character, I think in a Nancy Drew chapter book that was Korean. Now, people pronounce my last name U-N, like the United Nations. It’s just a lot easier for people to digest and re-pronounce. (It also sounds like You win!) Who doesn’t like to have a name that’s basically – You win, Christine.

Then, dun DUN dun, I went to UGA. The Harvard of the South. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. At UGA, I met a ton of people that had never had a Chinese (Taiwanese) friend before. I joined a sorority with another girl, who was Korean, but adopted by a fam. To make things simpler, together, we became Asian.

This is where my downfall began. I have been referred as many a person’s favorite Asian. This is great at the time, usually this title is given during intoxication. But the reference stuck and no one thought to take a deeper look. The problem is this: you have only known one Asian person in your life. Me.

People in Cali, most likely do not have this problem that I do. I could never tell someone they were my favorite white person. Most all my friends are.. errrr. White. I cannot imagine this title working for anyone other than Asians.

What I’m saying is, I can be your favorite Asian, but if you feel like telling me, I would prefer if you dropped the Asian bit, and just let me be your favorite at the moment.

If you haven’t figured it out: I do speak English.

So do my parents.

And they are American citizens. They live here. IN AMERICA.