Member-only story
It’s hard to return when you left for valid reasons. I constantly felt like there was a snake wrapped around my neck, strangling my existence. Someone would ask me out and I would wonder if they were Asian-curious or really wanted to go out with me, the artist, and once-straight-A-student. I began to lose my be-gracious-to-the-ignorant attitude. How many clever ways could I answer the question, “where are you from? No, where are you really from?” Apparently, my answer was never what they REALLY wanted to hear. So, I left. Six months later I wanted to return. I went from being taunted and yelled at for my almond-shaped eyes to a community that became oddly curious about my “exotic” features.
It took me 21 years to return, but I did. Finally. Anxious? Yes. There was so much history. I had arrived when I was 14 and the Vietnam War had just ended. I am a biracial Korean female. I know, I know. We all look alike. While in college, I was told by a drunken man that his brother died in the Vietnam War, and it was my fault. Yep.
This behavior and attitude revolved around me for the duration. Then I visited my sibling on the other coast and witnessed people who looked like me eating in public places and not being harassed. I was sold. The grass really seemed better on the other side. It took me a bit, but I finally got the job. The new employer made it easy. They moved my belongings and my car. They gave me a rental car and an apartment to stay in…
