by Renee Chen
Growing up, I always dreaded Halloween. Weeks in advance people would ask if I’d chosen a costume, and I’d always reply,
“Oh, you know, I’m not really into dressing up.”
To be fair, it’s not as celebrated in China – not that I’d really know, having been in Canada most of my life.
Really, I had this weird complex about costumes. I always felt like I wasn’t allowed to dress up as a character who wasn’t Asian, but that left so little to choose from. I couldn’t be just any character, I had to be the ‘Asian version.’ I was one of two Asian kids in my class, and I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb, even if no one else thought the same.
Dressing up is supposed to be fun, I guess, but I got to play pretend every day. I pretended to understand all the references that all my friends made, I played the role of a ‘normal’ kid. I was already inauthentic, in every way.
–(Years later, way after I’d gotten too old to be dressing up, I mentioned this to a couple of my friends; some Asian, some not.
“Really?” they all said. “I don’t know, I never felt like that.”
As more and more Asian characters are introduced in popular franchises, I begin to wonder where all these role models were when I was a kid.
I wonder how many of the insecurities of my childhood actually had anything to do with people judging me by race, and how much of it was just me.)
