Sake it to me

The funniest thing happened on the way to Eastern Market the other day. I was standing by myself at 9pm up in Northeast, at the corner of H and 14th St. (The Atlas District is kind of a sketchy part of town -- definitely up and coming but definitely not there yet). Anyway, I was waiting for the bus to take me home, looking all alert and aware of my surroundings, when a cute little black girl walked up to the stop. She looked about 13, wearing two afro puffs and a shirt that had to be from Forever 21 or Wet Seal or someplace like that. I smiled at her, she smiled back.

A few beats later, I noticed that she was looking at me in a very curious manner. When we made eye contact again, she asked, very earnestly, "Do you do nails?"

I nearly died in laughter. Right there, on the street corner. I mean, Atlas District is a predominantly black neighborhood and I realized at that moment that Asians are probably in short supply there ... and quite possibly, the only Asians this little girl ever saw in her neighborhood were the ones in the nail salons. I was so torn as to how to respond. Gotta admit, I was really tempted to say something like, "Oh no, honey, those are Vietnamese. I'm Chinese; we own the laundromats and dry cleaners." But then I realized that the dry humor would probably be lost on her. (To her credit, I was looking super Asian that day -- traditional Chinese-style shirt, jade bracelet, etc).

Instead, I just smiled and said, "No, but I love to get my nails done. Do you?" She grinned, responded in the affirmative and we both boarded the bus, while she continued to look at me like I was a new specimen of human.

During the bus ride, I started thinking about the juxtaposition of that encounter versus an encounter I recently had with a (white) friend's father. He and I were chatting about all sorts of things and in the course of conversation, he asked me if I saw myself as "ethnic." Again, I nearly died, this time from horror. I knew that he asked that question from a place of sheer ignorance, not disdain or malice, but I still had to take a few deep breaths before answering. First of all, that's just plain offensive. Second, using the word "ethnic" in that context makes so little sense anyway. I explained that if he meant to ask if I see myself as Asian, then absolutely yes -- like most people of color, my race is among the first adjectives I use to describe myself.

How is it that one person could look at me and see nothing but my race ... and another simply ignored it or didn't see it? And which situation is preferable? Being Asian shapes so much of my attitudes and outlooks towards life. But it's certainly not the only thing. And I wouldn't even say it's the most influential thing either. Most days, I just carry on about my business; my Asianness hangs around in the background, always there, but not necessarily at the forefront of my life. Is it so hard for other people to have the same attitude?

Can't I have my fried rice and eat it too?