when i’m talking to someone whom i’ve never met over the phone (e.g., a telemarketer), i wonder if they can tell i’m asian just by the sound of my voice. being born and raised in vancouver and never having learned a word of chinese, i have been blessed — or rather cursed, depending on how you look at it — with an accent-free fluency in the english language. of course, this makes it hard to communicate with old chinese biddies who think i must speak chinese because i look chinese and who later feel offended that i don’t speak it and who tell me to go back to china in order to learn it.

as a CBC (“canadian born chinese” or “chinese born canadian” — i can never remember which it is), i’ve often been asked by caucasians in vancouver, “where are you from?” i’ll respond, “canada.” and they’ll persist, “no, i mean where are you really from?” as if there is no possible way someone with my hair colour, with my eyes, with my skin can ever truly be from this country.

when i hear some of my asian friends talk, i can hear a hint of an accent, depending on where they were born (i.e., hong kong, taiwan, the philippines, etc.). it amazes me that some of them who were born and raised here in canada actually have an asian accent. it amazes me, but it doesn’t surprise me — especially in a city where, if you’re chinese, you can get by without ever learning a word of english. richmond (the suburb in which i live) caters to the ever-growing chinese population, creating chinese malls and institutions where the employees are required to speak chinese, even though it is not an official language and, therefore, cannot be a prerequisite for employment. and in a town that was mainly comprised of caucasians for so long, it’s hard to not follow along with the increasing, but unsaid, resentment of asian immigrants. it’s a strange self-racism i feel at times for these asians who come into canada and “ruin” the reputation many second-generation immigrants have tried to establish for themselves, a “true” canadian image (whatever that is). i’m ashamed to admit it, but sometimes i empathize with those white people who mutter, “stupid asians, taking all of our land and businesses,” under their breath as old chinese biddies chatter away in their foreign language on the street. and then i’ll think, “what the hell is wrong with me?”

but soon it becomes: “who are these white people to think that they own this land? who did they have to marginalize and, in some cases, slaughter in order to claim that any part of canada was theirs in the first place? what canadian ‘image’ are these immigrants truly destroying?” i can feel for both sides of the argument, as i sit on my whitewashed fence. but why does there even have to be a side to take? why must i constantly sway from my asian heritage to my canadian patriotism? shall ever the twain meet?

there isn’t a cohesive theme in this post. these are just thoughts that have been running in and out of my head over the years of being a canadian who can never really be from canada.