I’m Dylan Meredith and I’m proud to be Hapa.

The concept of being Hapa never really occured to me when I was growing up. I was born in and lived in the United States until I was 9 years old.

I was obviously aware that my dad was white, but I grew up in a household that leaned toward my Asian side. I had high grade expectations, learned the piano at the age of 3, and have plenty of memories of a yelling mother regarding both of those and more. I even attended these math tutor classes every saturday morning (all of which were filled with Asian kids) so I grew up considering myself an Asian.

Little did I know, all the Asian kids saw me as a white kid, and all the white kids saw me as an Asian kid.

My eyes started opening when I moved to Shanghai when I was 9. I attended an international school so there were plenty of white kids, but the majority were Asian. It was then I started really identifying myself as half white.

Soon I was full on aware that I was a halfie (Hapa) and also became aware of all the good things that came with this. I looked unique (in a good way) and grew up speaking two languages fluently. It was also cool to meet other Hapas because they may have experienced the same things that I did growing up, something that not a lot of people could claim credit for.

My dad is American (biologically speaking, his dad was Welsh and his mom had some French roots- it wasn’t explained to me very well) and my mom is Taiwanese. My first language was Chinese, but my English quickly overtook it since I grew up in the United States and attended school there, etc. But I still learned Chinese as well.

I have clear connections with both my white and Asian sides- I often visit my dad’s side grandmother in the US every summer where I eat American food and everything is in English, and on the flip side, I make frequent trips to Taiwan to visit my mother’s side family there where I eat asian food and enjoy the night markets and stuff.

I’ve met and am friends with lots of hapas and I’m glad to have met them, particularly in my school. I’m moving once again and I hope I can find a group of Hapas that will be as great as the ones I had the pleasure of getting to know in Shanghai.

Hi, I’m Jen Mak. I’m British, Cantonese, American, and a New Yorker at heart.

I think race is a fascinating social construction that I have gratefully been forced to think a lot about growing up.

We as humans have the tendency to gravitate towards people like us. So what happens when there is nobody that shares our physical features? Or when the people who do share our features don’t share our cultural beliefs?

I was raised in Rockland, New York. I went to a school that was predominantly Black and Hispanic, with a small Hasidic Jewish community as well.

Up until I was 10, my world had no color. I identified as the daughter of immigrants and seemed to blend in among the large community of Haitian immigrants.

My parents and I made frequent trips to England and Hong Kong where I was able to experience the two distinct halves of my identity. Upon dissecting my appearance, to my Asian side, I looked white and my British side, I looked Asian.

My colorless world was rocked when we moved to the greater Boston area. Almost every day at school I was asked the “What are you?” question and felt judged by my reply. I began to be jokingly lumped into the category of “Asian” but was never included by the Asian group itself.

Finding a confidence within myself is my way out of what I like to call “racial limbo land.” My race will never be a barrier of expression. I feel free to be and associate myself however I like.

I am Hapa.

Hi Hapas :)

My name is Lisa. My father is Vietnamese and my mother is of mixed European descent (English, Irish, German). Simply put, ‘white’ lol.

Both of their families were against the marriage at first (1970′s). There was a critical moment when my mother’s father refused to attend the wedding, but after some loving/firm words from the pastor, he agreed.

Things worked out in the end, and I think my 2 sisters and I did not turn out as ‘confused’ as my grandfather feared. Maybe a little ;)

Like many of you, my sisters and I got a lot of “what are you?” growing up. Although living in the diverse Bay Area of California certainly helped, sometimes I wished no one had to ask. I feel fortunate not to have experienced the schoolyard taunts some of you have endured though.

I think my sisters and I tend to identify being ‘American’ rather than ‘Vietnamese’ or even ‘Vietnamese American’ due to not being taught the Vietnamese language and having limited cultural exposure to Vietnamese life, aside from occasional family parties and weekly trips to the noodle house for bowls of pho at lunchtime. YUM!

As kids, my sisters and I found solidarity in spotting other ‘half kids’ whenever we went out as a family (although I’m sure there were many others that went unnoticed!) I agree with many of you, it certainly helps to know that you are NOT ALONE!

Growing up I tended to have Asian friends (mostly Chinese, Vietnamese), but always felt a little bit of an outsider at the same time. I think it was mostly a cultural/language barrier. Fortunately I made up for it by enjoying their company (duh!), and of course, heartily eating all the FOOD placed in front of me, even if I wasn’t sure what it was.

It wasn’t until i took a Hapa class in college (yes, they exist!!!) that things fell into place. I met people with similar experiences, learned about the historical context (in America as well as abroad), and decided that, in the grand scheme of things, being Hapa isn’t bad at all, nor is it a massively big deal. It’s fun, mysterious, liberating, a little annoying/confusing…

What saddens me most is hearing stories of people around the world who are severely displaced due to their mixed race (mixed Vietnamese kids living in Vietnam, ie ‘dust children’ hit close to my heart). In comparison, it makes my life experience seem self-absorbed and petty.

Anyway, I was prompted to pipe in here due to being mistaken as Korean while enjoying tea in a Korean tea shop with my long time Chinese friend this afternoon (I think I am in love with jujube tea *sigh*) of course, all I have to do is open my mouth and they switch to English at the speed of light!

I have been mistaken for:

Mexican (let’s just say i have a little more ‘junk in the trunk’ and hips than the average asian girl) :P
Japanese
Korean
Eastern European (wah?)

About men: when single (er, and now), Latin and African American men tend to notice/respond to me than other men. Again, I can only assume it has to do with my body type, or maybe body language/vibe? IDK. It’s flattering nonetheless.

My fiance is also Hapa (italian american / pacific islander–yay rota!) We share similar Hapa childhood experiences, as well as a love for vietnamese / rota FOOD!!!! Yep, he’s a keeper.

When/if we have kids, I look forward to what the future will hold…

Thanks for reading, and I hope this story–and others–lifts your spirits and keeps you feeling connected! I certainly do.

My mother is Chinese, father is American, except his father is from Montreal, and his mother has things like Italian/ Irish/ British/ Native American decent.

But I don’t really count that.  Any drop of Native American in me ran out the last time I got a paper cut.

I live in Shanghai atm.  And am a proud Hapa :)

You’ll see on the left a group of good-looking individuals.

These are some of the proud Hapas that I’ve met over the years as an international student living in Asia. The fine collection includes mixes of Japanese, Austrian, Filipino, American, Taiwanese, Dutch and Mexican heritage.

Like me, they have been told, “You have to choose; you can’t be both” and have been asked countless times, “What are you?” I just want to thank them and everyone on this site for sharing the joys and hardships they’ve faced as being multiracial, and for voicing their stories.

As for the “WF,” it stands for “Winter Formal.” And what better way to ask a fellow Hapa than on HapaVoice.com? So with that in mind:

Melissa, will you go to Winter Formal with me? – Danny

When I was in kindergarten, some kids sang the “Chinese-Japanese Dirty Knees” song to me. It made my mom sad when I came home and asked her what it meant. That’s when I first felt like an outsider.

It’s been a long road from there to embracing my Hapa heritage.

Some of my ancestors rode to the New World in a ship called the Ark and the Dove; others were samurai knights and Buddhist priests.

I grew up going to Catholic Mass with a red-haired, freckled grandmother; saying “Baruch Atah Adonai” and lighting the Hanukkah candles with my step-grandmother, and sitting zazen with my sansei jichan (grandfather).

Being a unique mixture of cultures and traditions can be lonely. Sometimes I feel like a chameleon, like I am a card-carrying member of the “people of color” club, but often, I feel culturally white, cut off from what it really means to be Asian.

Regardless, I’m different, but not an outsider. Each one of us, mixed-race or not, is unique. Our race is the human one.

Growing up, I never questioned who I was or what I was.  I was simply me.

In middle school and high school, I was known as Asian. Everyone knew I had an Asian half to me, and it was never questioned. Upon moving to Japan for college, I was questioned left and right.

Some people had to ask what I was, some people assumed I was full Caucasian, and some people disagreed with me when I told them I was half-Japanese.

A year ago, I went through an identity crisis that left me depressed and more confused than ever. I used to not care what people thought of me, but living in Japan and being doubted has made me feel the need to prove myself.

I have felt the need to prove to strangers something that is already there  I have felt the need to prove I am Japanese to people I will never associate with again.

Recently, I have started getting used to being different and not being accepted by my own people (Japanese). I have realized that despite all the problems, confusion, depression, and endless questions I have about my identity, I would much rather be the biracial person I am than a person of only one race.

I love being Japanese and American. I love having two races. I love having parents from two different backgrounds. I love having the best of both worlds. I love being able to be on both sides of the Pacific Ocean.  I love having two homes.

Within many students at my school, I have started a trend with the term “hybrid”.  It is basically the same as “Hapa”.  I am a hybrid, and I am proud.  Hybrids are beautiful, exotic, unique, and diverse.  Be proud to be a hybrid.  Own it.

I was abandoned at 12 months, in part because I am Hapa.

I was adopted in 1963 from South Korea and my adoptive parents were told that I was mixed with GI.

In 2002, my daughter Melissa was diagnosed with Cantonese Cancer (nasopharyngeal carcinoma). She underwent successful cancer treatment at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN.

I always knew I was Hapa but I thought I was just Korean and American. But with my daughter’s rare cancer and consultation with a gene specialist I now know that I’m also part Chinese. Now at age 50 I am embracing my Hapa heritage.

I am  interested in my southern Chinese roots (genes) as there is tremendous research being done in the Guangdong Province related to my daughter’s cancer.

Nations must work together in research and medical science to bring healing to people worldwide.

Proud to be HAPA and this includes my Chinese roots!

In this picture I am with my adoptive father. My lovely adoptive mother passed away in 1999 from breast cancer.

My father is Thai Chinese and my mother is American.

Being raised half of my life in Thailand and the other half in the States has been great. Great life experience and knowledge.

But I do have to say (in my opinion) that you really understand that you’re different when you’re living in an Asian country.

You understand what racism is, how you are being treated and the respect differences they give. I find that in the States, it’s not a big deal (because it’s westernized). What are my fellow Hapas’ opinions?

This is a short film I did that went to Cannes. Please watch it, give me your honest opinion because it was made for us HAPAS!!!

BTW…I’m the one in the middle with my 2 best friends from Thailand.

Hi everyone, my name is Barbara.

I am Irish and Danish through Dad, and pure Japanese through Mom. My parents met in Japan when my Dad was stationed there in the 50’s. My parents came to the US in the 60’s and my Mom became a part of that big American melting pot.

I was born in California but we moved on over to Hawaii when I was around 2, after Dad was transferred to Pearl Harbor. That’s where I grew up and lived the first half of my life. I was so lucky to end up there as Hawaii is Hapa paradise! Hawaii is the best place in the world to grow up.

Being raised in Hawaii gave me values from a young age. That is why my experience there was rarely negative. I never had people who made fun of or left me out because of my origins.

I was in my 20’s when I left the islands and moved to Europe. I’ve made a new life here and have been living in France for a long time.

In France I have noticed various degrees of curiosity towards me. So far, nothing harmful has happened to me but some people do seem resolved to figure me out. I’m often asked my nationality or asked outright if I’m Asian. I would always say first that I am American. Fortunately, I’ve also met friendly people who have learned from me and my culture as much as I’ve learned from theirs.

I remember once going to a designer shop in Paris to buy a gift. I was greeted by a French salesclerk who slewed out a long string of phrases in Japanese (even before I could open my mouth). I proceeded to say politely in English “No, I’m American.” Profuse apologies and then I was dropped like a hot potato. I could silently enjoy the humor of the situation as she pursued her perfect Japanese buyer. Yes, it was just another Hapa spreading some confusion ☺

More seriously, when you hear someone being put down because of their origins or culture, you feel the injustice. Hawaii seems to be light years away from such attitudes and narrow-mindedness. I wish that the rest of the world could be as cool and accepting.

I became even more proud of my roots after doing my family tree. My siblings, my niece, and I are the happy ties between people like Japanese farmers, Irish immigrant coal miners, and that 16-year-old boy who lied about his age to join the US Navy (Granddad). I do love the parts and the whole of my family tree.

Embrace who you are and share your gifts with the world. We each have so much to share.

Peace to all.

Hello! My name is Erika Clark and I am half Japanese, half American (Caucasian). I was born and raised in Japan until I was 15.

Growing up, I hated being Hapa. Living in the suburbs of a seemingly homogeneous society, I struggled with not being accepted in school and constantly standing out.

I am one of five siblings (all boys save for me) and it’s safe to say that I did not have the most pleasant childhood. I barely attended school for fear of being teased/bullied and I was extremely self-conscious to the point of feeling unworthy of talking to anyone.

But over the years, I’ve found comfort in sharing my thoughts with other Hapas and have often joked about creating a country of Hapas where we are free of rude judgements. When I was 15, I decided to “escape” Japan and attend high school in California. I thought that people in the US would be more accepting of me, but I was surprised to discover that just as I was “the American” in Japan, here I’m “the Japanese girl.”

Growing up with two cultures gives you easy access to both communities, but it also seems to leave gaps. I am now entering my seventh year in California, but I’m still trying to get used to the “American ways” and deal with people who ask, “What ARE you?”

I am currently attending college in Southern California. I’m a lot more confident and extremely social now. Growing up Hapa, there were some dark times, but I’ve been able to connect with so many great people because of my language abilities, and there’s nothing in this world I would trade for that.

I love both Japanese and American culture: green tea and hamburgers, tight hugs and silent waves, J-pop and US jams. My struggle to fit in, to feel fully confident, and to find where I belong still continues, but I’m definitely glad that I was raised in two cultures. I hope all Hapas are able to feel the same.

Hi! My name is Koby Song-Nichols and I am half Chinese and half white. I was born and raised in Arizona.

I’m 18 years old and a first year student at McGill University in Montreal. Being Hapa has been both a blessing and curse for me. 

My mom is ethnically Chinese and my dad is ethnically European; but because they were born in the U.S. I feel like I received a uniquely American upbringing. I was never able to connect to either of my ethnicities.

Being Hapa has always been an integral part of my identity but at moments I wish I would I was more solidly of one race. As I got older I met kids who could speak Chinese fluently and acted “Chinese-y” — that’s when my view on my race became a lot more polarized. When I was with people who were not Chinese I instantly became “super Asian,” while when I was with Chinese people I would be considered almost unbearably white.

This polarization pressured me to become “more Asian” so I began taking Mandarin Chinese and trying to “embrace my Chinese culture” more. But sometimes I still feel like I’m trying to fit into a culture that will never be mine 1) because I am half, and 2) because even my Chinese side isn’t that Chinese-y. This pressure has also forced me to wonder why I haven’t put much effort into trying to be “European.”

I hope in the future though I can feel more comfortable with my race and return to the peace/freedom it gave me when I was younger. I hope I can figure out what it means to me to be Hapa beyond just looking slightly Asian or white and how to deal with the pressure to connect to both my cultures.

For now I guess I can settle for trying to be happy in the middle with my not particularly “ethnically-cultured” American roots, which I guess might define me more than my actual Chinese and European roots.

Hello! My name is Laura Markou. I am a college senior and 22 years old. I am half Korean, from my mother, and Greek American, from my father.

I was born in Seoul, Korea but moved to the states at a very young age. When I was younger I had a hard time with accepting who I am, as I grew up in a predominately Caucasian community. I resented my Korean side, but changed my thoughts as I got older.

I think that it’s important to recognize all of my heritage and not be ashamed or resent it. I grew to fall in love with my Korean culture and that has helped me become so much more closer with my mom.

I always get asked what my ethnicity is from being Chinese, Japanese, Kazakh, Russian, or white. I identify myself as being Korean, Greek, and American. I am not one or the other but all. It sometimes still makes me feel a little down when Koreans do not classify me as Korean or white people do not think I am white as I feel as if I do not belong anywhere but that is not the mindset I should have.

I am becoming more and more comfortable with who I am and feel blessed that I am able to experience being in different cultures. I love who I am, and I wouldn’t want to be anyone else.

For as long as I can remember, my parents have always told my brother and me how lucky we are to be Hapa. With a mother from Hawaii and a father from Sweden, my brother and I fall under both contexts of the traditional Hawaiian definition and the recently adopted racial term; we are exactly half Okinawan and half Swedish.

Born and raised in California, my brother and I grew up in a school system that desperately attempted to promote multiculturalism. I beamed with pride as my pappa visited my second grade class during multicultural week to read my favorite Lilla Spöket Laban, and I enjoyed my tiny bento that my Okinawan grandma would pack for lunch. However, like most childhood traditions, I was sheltered from the unrealistic expectations of assimilation, and it was not until I grew older that I began to realize the burdens being Hapa had inflicted upon my cultural identity.

As people notice my ambiguous appearance, they are immediately curious of my ethnicity and usually ask one of two questions. The first is the derogatory, “What are you?” I understand this question is of interest to my cultural background, so I politely answer, “Swedish and Okinawan.” However, the other question, “Where are you from?” raises a complicated flurry of possible responses. The subjective interpretations of that question is only the beginning of the problem. I have to decide if they mean where I was born, where I currently live, where I grew up, or what ethnicity I am.

Growing up and constantly battling between answering with Sweden, Hawaii, or America has led to the inevitable epiphany many Hapas default to: nowhere. I am from nowhere. I belong nowhere. Because of our mixed races, Hapas will never exclusively belong to any of the cultures running through their veins. I will never be Swedish and I will never be Okinawan, but people want an answer nonetheless. Sparing people an explanation of my identity crisis, I reluctantly resort to, “I am from America.” No one wants to hear about a Hapa’s internal divide, so it is easy to dismiss an honest response. A Hapa spirit does not differentiate between the cultures in their veins; the two cultures exist together as one.

Everyone has the right to a cultural identity that fluctuates; an identity is a living concept, changing and evolving throughout a lifetime. As a multicultural race with memories and traditions associated with different cultures, Hapas cannot simply identify with one race or the other, but the refusal to assimilate to a single cultural identity has its consequences. Because society has demanded people of multiculturalism to associate with one culture, it is not easy for a Hapa to simply identify as someone who actively considers themselves a “synergy” of two cultures. A person that acknowledges their diverse background can be seen as someone who struggles with identity, as if choosing not to align himself or herself with a single culture indicates an unstable identity.

Responding with, “I am from nowhere,” as in they do not belong to one culture alone, insinuates a critical judgment by society. The uncertainty is perceived as negative, so a fear or self-doubt develops around the idea of not belonging. Instead of embracing both cultures, Hapas begin to view their diversity as defective.

I walk around Stockholm too Asian to be considered Swedish, and I walk around Honolulu too Swedish to be Okinawan. The differences set other Hapas and me apart in society as a minority. The truth can be seen on our physically ambiguous faces; we do not belong. I do not belong in Sweden. I do not belong in Hawaii. I do not belong in America. I am varying degrees of Swedish, Okinawan, and American. I cannot attribute myself wholly to any of those cultures, and society condemns me for it. Many Hapas can relate to the feeling of not belonging, and it can send us into despair, but that is why recognizing that feeling as tied to societal convention is vital to our identity. Despite what society implies about Hapa culture, just because I do not belong anywhere does not mean I am nothing.

I want to challenge the traditional conventions of cultural identity and no longer be ashamed that I do not belong anywhere. Hapas should embrace the diversity that forms their identity and should not be obligated to choose a cultural affiliation. I hope one day Hapas can radiate confidence as they declare, “I am from nowhere,” ignoring society’s condescending view of such an unsatisfying answer. As the definition of “half” suggests, Hapa is a duality of cultures. It is impossible for one culture to exist without the other; one culture cannot dominate or cancel the other out. It is a “synergy,” and that synergy defines us.

My name is Levi and I am Scottish, Chinese, Japanese, Native American, Malaysian, Costa Rican and American. I am a mix of many cultures from both my mommy and daddy’s sides of the family. We are generational Hapas and we love it! Even my grandma is Hapa!

Neither mommy nor daddy is Costa Rican so you’re probably wondering how come I am. Well, I’m a tico because I was born in Costa Rica but I’m also American since both mommy and daddy are American!

It is great to be Hapa because you get to experience so many cultures and customs first hand. Like for New Year’s we always have black eyed peas and greens (homage to our Southern American culture) AND a traditional Japanese New Year meal, we also celebrate the lunar (Chinese) new year, Moon festival, Independence Day, Thanksgiving, Passover, etc.

If we celebrated every holiday, it would just be one nonstop party! There is always something yummy to eat from pot roast to sushi and curry to dim sum! I hope to travel to all the places we are from as a family one day!

My name is Chase. My mom is half Japanese and my dad is Caucasian (he was adopted) as far as I know. I identify as Japanese American.

As a kid I was close to my grandmother and became interested in learning Japanese and about Japanese culture because of her. She would always enthusiastically show me and my twin Japanese food, teach us a little Japanese, and tell us stories from when she was a girl in Japan.

I was amazed by Japanese culture, I felt like it was fragile and should be preserved in my family as there were barely any Japanese people where I live. She was the only one that spoke Japanese and knew about the culture so I talked to her a lot and tried to learn as much as I could about Japan. I remember bringing home books about Japan and showing her and the biggest smile would light up on her face and she would tell me a story she remembered.

I remember walking to my grandma and grandpa’s trailer and always seeing umeboshi sitting on the counter along with a rice cooker that always had rice in it, soy sauce, packets of curry, and ramen. Every Saturday My mom, grandma, twin brother, and I would go to an Asian supermarket and refill her miso, natto, and on special occasions bought mochi. When she passed away a couple years ago it was really sad to see those things disappear. My grandma has played a huge role in my connection to my Japanese heritage and I couldn’t thank her enough.

Growing up in Indiana I wasn’t and still have not been bullied or picked on because of my race. I was mainly just asked what I was and where I came from. As I’ve gotten older I’ve become a lot more self conscious about my race and how people see me. Some people said that I can’t say I’m Asian because I’m only a quarter Japanese. At those times I just wished I was half like my mom or at least more than a quarter.

However, I’ve come to realize that I’m perfectly fine the way I am and don’t need anyone to tell me what I can and cannot identify as. It’s funny, the other day I watched “Are You Asian Enough?” from CollegeHumor, and I think a lot of people who are a quarter Asian can relate to that red-haired lady, including me.

Anyways, I’m really grateful to have grown up in a multiracial family, and even though I sometimes feel disappointed that more of the culture and language wasn’t passed down, I feel like a large enough window was opened for me to have a connection with it and the desire to learn about what I haven’t been exposed to yet.

Right now I’ve been studying Japanese for about four years and plan on studying abroad in Osaka once I graduate from high school this year. For college I’m thinking about majoring either in Japanese or International Relations, specifically between Japan and America.

My name is Alexis, and I identify as half-Japanese-American, and half-English. My father is second generation Japanese-American (ethnically completely Japanese, but culturally Japanese-American), and my mother is English.

I think that this is such a fantastic project, because at the very least I get to see all these wonderful people who understand what I go through. I live where there are few mixed-race individuals, let alone any Hapa people. I think it can be lonely to be something so different, and it’s very hard to describe what not-belonging feels like to others. Every time someone asks “So where are you from?” it feels like a loaded question with a tiresome answer. How do I explain that I am ethnically half-Asian, but my cultural ties are Japanese-American? That I am very British, but also a dual national? People get very bored very quickly, as they expect a quick and straight-forward answer. Now, I tend to preface any reply with, “It’s complicated.”

I try to move on from the challenges that being biracial brings, but I am very aware of how they influence every aspect of my life. I am the only person of colour doing my course at my college, and even then I don’t feel “qualified” to be the token PoC. I have men hitting on me in a fetishistic way once they find out I am mixed race, and social media is awful, with people calling me a “fake Asian” or a “white Jap.” My mother has been detained at the airport because they suspect her of child trafficking me into the UK. My ethnic and cultural identity affects every part of my life, but whilst there are significant challenges that I now just absorb into my daily behaviour, there are also a lot of very positive aspects to my heritage that I prefer to focus on.

My father’s family are descendants of the last Samurai. I am currently involved in the translation of an ancestral diary, despite my poor knowledge of Japanese language. Our surname is very unique, as it was given to us by one of the emperors of Japan. I recently got to visit the family grave site in Sendai, and it was a wonderful experience to honour that side of my cultural identity.

Because of my mixed heritage, I’ve had a unique childhood. I went to afternoon tea at the Ritz with my mother for Mother’s Day, and then a month later, was eating oyako donburi and curry pan in SoCal. I celebrate Japanese New Year, and I know how to roll sushi (although Japanese food in England is a bit limited). I eat spaghetti with ohashis, and love natto on cheeseburgers. I like embroidering the kanji for my surname on clothes, and bringing English tea to my Japanese-American relatives when I visit. To be frank, the mixture of British and American can often be more of a hurdle than British and Japanese!

I live in England, which means that I get a lot of British exposure, but it hasn’t stopped me from exploring the other sides to my identity. I don’t identify as wholly one thing or the other, because I’m not a box on a questionnaire. It’s been a long time coming, but I can happily say that I am happy just as I am. I spend a lot of my childhood trying to fit in – hiding my Hello Kitty shirts when friends came round, or trying to assert myself as a true Japanese-American to strangers in the Daiso. Now, I just embrace my non-belonging-ness. I’ll try to decode Japanese adverts I see online, but will end up shopping on a site that uses English. I’ll make myself fish finger butties, and drizzle a little shoyu on there for good measure.

The thing is, everyone goes on a journey of self-discovery when they are a young person. The only difference between me and Joe ’round the corner is that I don’t have a clear defining end point. And that’s okay, because maybe he doesn’t either. We are living in an ever-progressing world, and so whilst it’s been a hard time establishing who and what I am exactly, I get that it’s a process that never ends, and that for now, I am happy with who I am.

My identity is more than just my ethnic background. I barbecue on Christmas in the sleet, I have two black labradoodles that send me in circles. I like sewing clothes, and playing the piano. I love spending time with my friends, and I actually enjoy the pre-drinks more than the club itself. There is more to me than just my ethnicity. Whilst it influences every aspect of my life, it is not my sole defining feature. I am happy with who I am, and I hope that everyone else can find solace with their own identity, and to be happy simply being.

All my love to all the other Hapas out there, and everyone else as well.

My name is Quincy, and I’m a sixteen-year-old high school student born and raised in New South Wales, Australia.

My father is Burmese, my mother is white American, and they met through work in Thailand.

As I was scrolling through this website, despite being able to find similarities of most people to me, I found no trace of those with any Burmese heritage , and I wanted to make a representation of Burmese Hapas.

When I was younger, I wasn’t too fazed about my cultural background but was always aware of it. In school I’d be the “smart Asian kid” who was overly nice, and expectations were always high.

But people eventually seemed to question if there was more to me. In the past few years I’ve found myself explaining myself to people more and more and I thus realised how unique my heritage really was.

Going to America every two years since I was a baby to see family was always exciting, but going to Burma for the first time when I was thirteen to see what my father’s life was like before meeting my mother was an unforgettable experience. Now, after seeing both cultures, I seem to understand myself more. No longer would I say I’m half Burmese half American, not knowing what I was saying.

There was a time when I tried to teach myself the Burmese language when I was fifteen, but this has been put on hold for a while due to school and other obligations. Other than that, Burmese prayers with my father, turning on Buddha’s light in the study every night, eating Burmese food, taking shoes off before entering the house, gadaw (giving thanks to elders), reciting a Sanskrit chant before a meal, filling Buddha’s water, and receiving money in a red envelope are just a few customs I’ve had the opportunity to experience.

Difference in religion, educational views, and culture are the main challenges in the household. Outside the household, dealing with stereotypes, being questioned about my heritage, and identity crises are the main challenges.

Nonetheless, I am happy with who I am and wouldn’t change it! I’m a happy Hapa.