Identity, family, and belonging in an American mixed-race family

By Dori Jones Yang

Identity, family, and belonging in an American mixed-race family

By Guest Blogger, Dori Jones Yang

As a white American reporter living in Hong Kong, I noticed and admired many beautiful children of white and Chinese parents. So when I fell in love with and married a Chinese man, I was eager to see what beauty our child would bring forth. On the day of her birth, I fell in love with my daughter, Emily—although she didn’t look anything like my own blonde, blue-eyed baby pictures. Often children of mixed Chinese and European heritage favor one side or the other, and Emily has always looked more Chinese. Honestly speaking, she is more attractive than either of her parents! I’ve often told her that.

My husband and I moved back to the States when Emily was three and raised her in the Seattle area, which has a sizable Asian-American population. Her high school class was 33% Asian, and she sought out and found many mixed-race friends like herself. When we bought her an old beater of a Honda, she got a license plate frame that said AZN PRIDE. When I pointed out that I had raised her to be equally proud of her heritage through both her father and me, she wryly noted she couldn’t exactly post a bumper sticker saying “White Pride.” I had to agree.

Once, when attending the wedding of a cousin on my side of the family, Emily met another cousin, a white girl, who was adopted. Relatives kept remarking to that girl how much she looked like her (adoptive) father. Emily later confided to me her annoyance at the contrast: she, my natural born daughter, did not hear any comments like that. It was the first time I realized she might feel a sense of alienation in my extended family, despite many visits to my parents’ home in Ohio and my efforts to make sure she knew her cousins. My dad used to call her his “China doll.” I thought that was cute. 

After the murder of George Floyd last summer, I attended many classes and read books on anti-racism and white supremacy. They helped me realize that the pride in my Welsh-Scottish-English ancestry that my parents had instilled in me had carried with it a sense of entitlement and privilege. 

Because I am fluent in Mandarin Chinese and spent ten years of my adult life living in Asia, and because I had encouraged my daughter to speak Mandarin and take pride in her Chinese ancestry, I assumed that I was a culturally sensitive mother. In fact, I wrote two middle-grade children’s books from the perspective of Chinese children in America, with the goal of increasing cross-cultural understanding. Then, last year, it hit me: I can never truly understand Emily’s sense of identity and belonging in an America where she is viewed as a minority. Neither can my husband, who was raised in China, where he was in the majority. 

In recent months, the rise in insults and assaults on Asian Americans has worried my daughter. Her toddler, though only one-quarter Chinese, looks a lot like her. I was so happy to see that. But now I can see that even the most beautiful Asian appearance has a downside in a country where white Americans have long had fraught relations with immigrants and with native-born Americans who don’t look like them. 

I remain delighted to have a mixed-race daughter—and granddaughter. And I applaud the increase in mixed-race marriages and the recognition of the complexity of identifying many U.S. citizens by a single race. More than fifty percent of American children under the age of fifteen are Hispanic and/or non-white, so our country just has to become more culturally sensitive. But I now also recognize the naiveté of my young-adult years, when I thought that I, with my mixed-race marriage, could be part of the solution.

My daughter and her generation will need to craft a deeper and more robust solution. All of us in the United States belong to the American family.

Dori Jones Yang is the author of When the Red Gates Opened: A Memoir of China’s Reawakening. Her website is https://dorijonesyang.com/

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