My mother was brown and I knew from the time I was tiny that my mother’s brown skin was something that she was teased about in her Japanese family. My aunt wore gloves while driving to keep her hands from getting browner than they already naturally were and she would carry a parasol with her when we were out in the sun. These were messages about colorism that quietly crept in and confused me; I always found comfort in my mother’s brown hands, her brown skin, because that was what home looked like and felt like. She was my barometer for beauty in all things.
People have tried to tell me that I am "white passing: and I reject that language vehemently. I certainly have racial privilege as well as many other privileges such as class privilege, thin privilege, and many more. I am as aware as I can be and growing my awareness about my privileges and how to navigate spaces thoughtfully and-- I am not “white passing” and here’s why.
I do not have the lived experience of being “white passing” because I have had so many incidents of being subjected to racism. The racism I have dealt with is certainly not the same as an Asian person who has darker skin. I have been called a range of racial slurs and much more.
There are people who will use the term “white passing” for themselves and I believe each person gets to choose the words that best suits them. For me personally, I am replacing “white passing” with “white presenting” and have updated my Bill of Responsibilities document with this language (attached below).
When I talk about my own light skin privilege I use phrases such as, Multiracial Japanese American with light skin privilege. Or, Multiracial Japanese American with racial privilege.
The words I have used to describe my racial and ethnic identity have changed many times over the years. I’ve shared before how “hapa” was a term I enthusiastically embraced in my early twenties and then stopped using when I realized that it harmed Indigenous Hawaiian people because it was appropriating a term for Indigenous people. I imagine the words I use to describe my racial and ethnic identity will change again in the future as well. And that’s how it should be; as we learn and expand our understanding of the world and ourselves, the language we use should reflect that knowing and growing.
Image description: [A vintage color photo of a Multiracial Japanese American toddler with light skin privilege sits on her Japanese mother’s back. I’m wearing a little orange tracksuit and I have short straight brown hair in a bowl cut. My mother is wearing a persimmon color top with light grey pants. Her hair is in a messy bun. Her koto and dresser are in the background.]