I'm hapa, and I'm proud.

Here is another essay from the same ABC...

The prompt for this essay is "describe an experience.."

Hapa haole. Two small words used to describe someone of "mixed ethnic heritage with partial roots in Asian and/or pacific islander ancestry," yet two words that profoundly revamped the attitude I had towards my racial identity. I first encountered this phrase in a traveling art and identity exhibit when I was in 7th grade at the Chicago Field Museum. In the exhibit (called "The Hapa Project"), the artist photographs people of all ages and ethnicities and asks them to handwrite a caption that answers the question "what are you?"

I'm that one girl when I'm at a museum; I will stop and read every single placard and exhibit description posted in the museum, so I absorbed every caption. Seeing so many people take a three word sentence used to ostracize and instead turn it into a message of self-identity was empowering. Some people chose to list the roles that they fill, such as "mother" or "brother" or "architect." Others used the opportunity to express the difficulties of being unique and not fitting into someone else's preconceived idea of who you "should" be.

I grew up in a community that was predominantly Caucasian with very few Asian people; I didn't have many people to compare myself to concerning race. I always felt like I was less of an Asian because I was born in the US, yet I also felt like I was less of an American because I deeply identify with Asian culture. I was always so conflicted because I didn't want to feel ashamed of the accents my parents had, the food we ate everyday, and my different skin tone and darker hair. After seeing so many people proudly proclaim their heritage, I realized that I was no different. I can have an Asian name with an American accent, and I'm not less of a person for that. I'm hapa, and I'm proud.