I'm White, but I'm Not White
Catherine Jacobson - October 11th, 2016
The first name given to me was Choi Hye-min. I am not entirely sure who named me this, if it was my birth parents or the foster home. I recently discovered that I was born in a city called Kyongsangbuk-do in South Korea. The name I go by now, I have been told my a few hometown classmates is one of the whitest out there, Catherine Jacobson. The town I grew up in is a suburb of Minneapolis that is known and mocked by most Minnesotans for it’s white privilege, Edina.
When was the first time you thought about your race? I mean really thought about it. Thought about what it meant. Thought about how it shaped you as a person. For me, it was in my 10th grade Enriched English course taught by Mrs. Roehl. Mrs. Roehl turned out to be Minnesota Teacher of the Year my senior year in 2013. There was a class discussion on the book we had just read, Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe. We began talking about race. This is something I had talked about in classes before, race is the color of your skin. Later, in college I would learn that race is debated as a societal construct. However, this was the first time I really thought about my own race. I knew I was Asian, but I also knew I did not line up with the norms of being an Asian American.
I was adopted one week shy of seven months, which is when I took the longest flight of my life. Funny to think the farthest I’ve traveled was when I was just an infant. As one can infer from my name; my adoptive parents, my parents, are white. My sister, who was also adopted from South Korea, and I, are both Asian. Except, I am also white.
This is definitely subjective to what you think that word means. In terms of a race, I am not white, I am a person of color because I am South Korean. In terms of a color, I am literally the whitest someone can get. I have OCA1A albinism. I am an albino Asian.
I’m white, but I’m not white.
It wasn’t until that fifteen-year-old discussion that I comprehended this. That was just the spark of it too. I attend a liberal arts university with a strong social justice emphasis. Social Justice actually ended up being my second major. Throughout all of my courses and experiences I have continued to think about my race. What it means, and how it has shaped me as a person.
Growing up, did I really understand my race? I knew I was Korean and from Korea, but did I see myself as an American Asian kid should? As a child I drew myself with blonde hair and blue eyes. I suppose that is the best depiction of me, but did I understand that I am Asian. Whatever that should really mean.
In elementary school my parents sent my sister and I to Korean Culture Camp for one week during the summer. I infer they did this to try and get us familiar with our Korean heritage, and to show us there are other kids like us. To attend this Korean Culture Camp you have to be from Korea yourself or be a sibling of someone from Korea. So basically, there were a bunch of Korean kids and me. My white hair stuck out like a sore thumb. This camp did not make me feel like there were other children like me. Most of the kids didn’t even believe I was from Korea. They just assumed that I was there because of my sister.
My mom may have caught onto this because in 2004 she brought me to a NOAH (National Organization for Albinism and Hypopigmentation) convention. As a fourth grader the only information I took away from this conference was that I thought albinos looked really weird. I wondered if that was what I looked like to other people. I wondered if that was why I got bullied so much. I now wonder if this contributed to my low self esteem and self image throughout middle and high school.
During that time I tried to hide who I was. I tried to act like I was only Albino, I didn’t want to be both Albino and Asian. I would open my eyes wide for pictures. I would avoid any conversation about what I am. I wondered if I could wear makeup. Eventually I realized that I cannot change myself. Just like I cannot change what others think of me.
In my junior year Enriched Biology class my teacher Mr. Sanger, who quickly became one of my favorites, asked me privately if I would be comfortable with the class doing an albino phylogenetic tree as an in-class assignment. I said that it would be fine, embarrassed that he felt the need to ask me, but I did feel completely uncomfortable the entire exercise.
My class was talking about me as science. I understand why Albinism is often used in this way, but what I didn’t understand is why my classmates felt the need to remind me of the percentage chance that my biological child would have albinism. A year and a half later I was in a Human Anatomy senior year class with Mr. Sanger. Our semester project was to do research and create a presentation on a disease or disorder. This was the first time I really researched albinism. More importantly, it was the first time I was open about my albinism in a public manner to people I do not know well. It was the first time I began to come to terms with who I am.
However, this is a journey that continued into college and one I still am on today. I attended a pre-orientation for my first-year of college called the Multicultural Mosaic Piper Pathway. These few days were a small cohort of incoming first-year students learning all about the different aspects of diversity. At one point they told us to sit in groups according to the race we identified with. I sat with the Asian Americans. However even at 18, I felt like I didn’t belong. I felt like the other students I was sitting by didn’t think I belonged there either.
Disclosing my albinism is something that I am no longer ashamed of. I have come to terms with the word albino. However, it is still confusing. Sometimes I think that it might be the elephant in the room, other times I believe it is transparent, but most of the time now, I don’t think what I am should be an important aspect to have a conversation with me. Even though I think this, I know that the first seconds of interaction with a stranger, they are often trying to figure out what I am.
I think it’s pretty obvious that I have albinism. There are people who immediately know I have albinism. Some of these people know I am Asian, some of them don’t. If they know about the albinism I can bet you that they Google it. I can tell if they Google it because I always get the question of, “did you know that Albinos get killed in Africa for their magical bones?” Yes, i did. I have been advised to not travel there ever in my life, thanks for reminding me. Or I’ll get comments like, “you’re really pretty for an albino” and “you’re the prettiest albino i’ve ever seen”. Really, how many albinos have you seen in your life? Maybe I should be flattered that I am something people feel the curiosity to Google. Or maybe I should be offended that they even think albinism is taboo enough that they cannot just ask me about it. I am not a genetic experiment, or a scientific phenomenon; I am a human being who happens to have no pigment in my body.
There are also people who have no idea that I have albinism or am an Asian American. I know classmates I graduated high school with who didn’t know I was from Korea until our senior party. One of my best friends and roommates now, didn’t know I was an albino Asian for about a month of our friendship until I it disclosed to him. He, like many others, thought I was just a super white, white girl.
I often wonder if I have white privilege. If I do, is it always? Even if the interaction is with someone who comprehends I am Asian, but still look white? Is white privilege given solely because of the color of one’s skin, or is it based on ethnic European backgrounds? Am I treated any differently because of my albinism?
I am unclear about these answers. What I do know though, is that I have albino Asian privilege. I have been able to use my uniqueness to my advantage. In high school I tried to blend in as much as possible, I did not want to be noticed, I did not want to be different. Now, that I have come more to terms with who I am, I have discovered that standing out is a complete advantage. People remember me. Often when I meet new students on campus the first thing they will say to me is, “I’ve seen you around a lot and have always wanted to talk to you”. The most important aspect of an interview is to stand out. I don’t need to try and do this, my uniqueness makes me stand out, and then what I say makes them want to hire me. Being an albino Asian is it’s own type of privilege.
Even though I have come to be on good terms with who I am, I still question appropriate decision I can make in my life because I know that the world has not come to terms with who I am. Can I check the White and Asian box? Can I join the Women of Color Coalition? Do I need to tell people I have albinism for them to feel comfortable around me? Do I put albino Asian on my dating profile? How do I draw myself?
This world has stereotypes around race. What a race is suppose to look like. How do you treat someone if you don’t know their race? How do you ask someone about their race without being offensive? To this day I hate getting the, “so where are you from?” question. Are you genuinely asking where I live or grew up, or are you trying to determine what I am? The conflict with this is it changes every time.
Our society looks at race to determine how to treat someone. Well both of my parents are blind. They can’t see what race someone is, they can’t discriminate or contemplate how to treat someone based off of the color of their skin. I have been told by a professor that I am living proof that race is a societal construct.
My skin is pale, and my eyes are small. I know that I will always get asked on practically a daily basis, “is that your natural hair color?”. I have gotten the fake smile and thank you down to an art. They are not trying to be offensive, they are trying to compliment me on it. Just like my ex-boyfriends flaunting that they are dating an albino Asian. They think it’s a bragging right, not a way to dehumanize me. And just like my ex-boyfriends’ friends who make nicknames for me like albasian. No one is trying to offend me, but no one can really understand.
My race and the color of my skin are always a prominent factor. It never goes unnoticed by me. Yes, I have learned to be proud of it, but I know I am more than just that. The color of my skin and my race may be the first thing someone notices about me, but it’s a minimum factor of what makes me, me. I am not just an albino Asian. I am a sister, a student leader, a writer, a daughter, an advocate, a double major, and a dreamer. I am a unique albino Asia who has a lifetime ahead to determine who I am; but this world has an eternity to.
When was the first time you thought about your race? I mean really thought about it. Thought about what it meant. Thought about how it shaped you as a person. For me, it was in my 10th grade Enriched English course taught by Mrs. Roehl. Mrs. Roehl turned out to be Minnesota Teacher of the Year my senior year in 2013. There was a class discussion on the book we had just read, Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe. We began talking about race. This is something I had talked about in classes before, race is the color of your skin. Later, in college I would learn that race is debated as a societal construct. However, this was the first time I really thought about my own race. I knew I was Asian, but I also knew I did not line up with the norms of being an Asian American.
I was adopted one week shy of seven months, which is when I took the longest flight of my life. Funny to think the farthest I’ve traveled was when I was just an infant. As one can infer from my name; my adoptive parents, my parents, are white. My sister, who was also adopted from South Korea, and I, are both Asian. Except, I am also white.
This is definitely subjective to what you think that word means. In terms of a race, I am not white, I am a person of color because I am South Korean. In terms of a color, I am literally the whitest someone can get. I have OCA1A albinism. I am an albino Asian.
I’m white, but I’m not white.
It wasn’t until that fifteen-year-old discussion that I comprehended this. That was just the spark of it too. I attend a liberal arts university with a strong social justice emphasis. Social Justice actually ended up being my second major. Throughout all of my courses and experiences I have continued to think about my race. What it means, and how it has shaped me as a person.
Growing up, did I really understand my race? I knew I was Korean and from Korea, but did I see myself as an American Asian kid should? As a child I drew myself with blonde hair and blue eyes. I suppose that is the best depiction of me, but did I understand that I am Asian. Whatever that should really mean.
In elementary school my parents sent my sister and I to Korean Culture Camp for one week during the summer. I infer they did this to try and get us familiar with our Korean heritage, and to show us there are other kids like us. To attend this Korean Culture Camp you have to be from Korea yourself or be a sibling of someone from Korea. So basically, there were a bunch of Korean kids and me. My white hair stuck out like a sore thumb. This camp did not make me feel like there were other children like me. Most of the kids didn’t even believe I was from Korea. They just assumed that I was there because of my sister.
My mom may have caught onto this because in 2004 she brought me to a NOAH (National Organization for Albinism and Hypopigmentation) convention. As a fourth grader the only information I took away from this conference was that I thought albinos looked really weird. I wondered if that was what I looked like to other people. I wondered if that was why I got bullied so much. I now wonder if this contributed to my low self esteem and self image throughout middle and high school.
During that time I tried to hide who I was. I tried to act like I was only Albino, I didn’t want to be both Albino and Asian. I would open my eyes wide for pictures. I would avoid any conversation about what I am. I wondered if I could wear makeup. Eventually I realized that I cannot change myself. Just like I cannot change what others think of me.
In my junior year Enriched Biology class my teacher Mr. Sanger, who quickly became one of my favorites, asked me privately if I would be comfortable with the class doing an albino phylogenetic tree as an in-class assignment. I said that it would be fine, embarrassed that he felt the need to ask me, but I did feel completely uncomfortable the entire exercise.
My class was talking about me as science. I understand why Albinism is often used in this way, but what I didn’t understand is why my classmates felt the need to remind me of the percentage chance that my biological child would have albinism. A year and a half later I was in a Human Anatomy senior year class with Mr. Sanger. Our semester project was to do research and create a presentation on a disease or disorder. This was the first time I really researched albinism. More importantly, it was the first time I was open about my albinism in a public manner to people I do not know well. It was the first time I began to come to terms with who I am.
However, this is a journey that continued into college and one I still am on today. I attended a pre-orientation for my first-year of college called the Multicultural Mosaic Piper Pathway. These few days were a small cohort of incoming first-year students learning all about the different aspects of diversity. At one point they told us to sit in groups according to the race we identified with. I sat with the Asian Americans. However even at 18, I felt like I didn’t belong. I felt like the other students I was sitting by didn’t think I belonged there either.
Disclosing my albinism is something that I am no longer ashamed of. I have come to terms with the word albino. However, it is still confusing. Sometimes I think that it might be the elephant in the room, other times I believe it is transparent, but most of the time now, I don’t think what I am should be an important aspect to have a conversation with me. Even though I think this, I know that the first seconds of interaction with a stranger, they are often trying to figure out what I am.
I think it’s pretty obvious that I have albinism. There are people who immediately know I have albinism. Some of these people know I am Asian, some of them don’t. If they know about the albinism I can bet you that they Google it. I can tell if they Google it because I always get the question of, “did you know that Albinos get killed in Africa for their magical bones?” Yes, i did. I have been advised to not travel there ever in my life, thanks for reminding me. Or I’ll get comments like, “you’re really pretty for an albino” and “you’re the prettiest albino i’ve ever seen”. Really, how many albinos have you seen in your life? Maybe I should be flattered that I am something people feel the curiosity to Google. Or maybe I should be offended that they even think albinism is taboo enough that they cannot just ask me about it. I am not a genetic experiment, or a scientific phenomenon; I am a human being who happens to have no pigment in my body.
There are also people who have no idea that I have albinism or am an Asian American. I know classmates I graduated high school with who didn’t know I was from Korea until our senior party. One of my best friends and roommates now, didn’t know I was an albino Asian for about a month of our friendship until I it disclosed to him. He, like many others, thought I was just a super white, white girl.
I often wonder if I have white privilege. If I do, is it always? Even if the interaction is with someone who comprehends I am Asian, but still look white? Is white privilege given solely because of the color of one’s skin, or is it based on ethnic European backgrounds? Am I treated any differently because of my albinism?
I am unclear about these answers. What I do know though, is that I have albino Asian privilege. I have been able to use my uniqueness to my advantage. In high school I tried to blend in as much as possible, I did not want to be noticed, I did not want to be different. Now, that I have come more to terms with who I am, I have discovered that standing out is a complete advantage. People remember me. Often when I meet new students on campus the first thing they will say to me is, “I’ve seen you around a lot and have always wanted to talk to you”. The most important aspect of an interview is to stand out. I don’t need to try and do this, my uniqueness makes me stand out, and then what I say makes them want to hire me. Being an albino Asian is it’s own type of privilege.
Even though I have come to be on good terms with who I am, I still question appropriate decision I can make in my life because I know that the world has not come to terms with who I am. Can I check the White and Asian box? Can I join the Women of Color Coalition? Do I need to tell people I have albinism for them to feel comfortable around me? Do I put albino Asian on my dating profile? How do I draw myself?
This world has stereotypes around race. What a race is suppose to look like. How do you treat someone if you don’t know their race? How do you ask someone about their race without being offensive? To this day I hate getting the, “so where are you from?” question. Are you genuinely asking where I live or grew up, or are you trying to determine what I am? The conflict with this is it changes every time.
Our society looks at race to determine how to treat someone. Well both of my parents are blind. They can’t see what race someone is, they can’t discriminate or contemplate how to treat someone based off of the color of their skin. I have been told by a professor that I am living proof that race is a societal construct.
My skin is pale, and my eyes are small. I know that I will always get asked on practically a daily basis, “is that your natural hair color?”. I have gotten the fake smile and thank you down to an art. They are not trying to be offensive, they are trying to compliment me on it. Just like my ex-boyfriends flaunting that they are dating an albino Asian. They think it’s a bragging right, not a way to dehumanize me. And just like my ex-boyfriends’ friends who make nicknames for me like albasian. No one is trying to offend me, but no one can really understand.
My race and the color of my skin are always a prominent factor. It never goes unnoticed by me. Yes, I have learned to be proud of it, but I know I am more than just that. The color of my skin and my race may be the first thing someone notices about me, but it’s a minimum factor of what makes me, me. I am not just an albino Asian. I am a sister, a student leader, a writer, a daughter, an advocate, a double major, and a dreamer. I am a unique albino Asia who has a lifetime ahead to determine who I am; but this world has an eternity to.