Where do you come from?
That question has many meanings to me. It reminds me of being so uncomfortable at school, when classmates or teachers would ask. I never really knew what to say, because I felt Australian, but I also did not. The feeling is much like that lyric, ‘too black for the white kids, too white for the black kids’.
I remember the first time I realised I was Asian and that I was different. I was 6 years old.
That day my teacher asked us to name an orange food. As the excited child I was, I eagerly put my hand up and said, ‘Tom Yum!’. The entire class broke out into laughter; some of the kids asking, ‘What is that?’. Then the teacher responded, ‘Are you sure that's a food?’.
As an adult I can laugh at these memories, but as a child it was rough not to feel a sense of belonging.
Now that question no longer affects me; I embrace it. It gives me an opportunity to share my cultural heritage. I know it’s definitely more than just a question, but I seem to have gotten used to it...