Let’s talk about boxes and the ones we like, no almost need, to put people into. First, let’s establish that we all do this. I do it. You do it. Everyone we know does it. If anyone, that includes you or me, denies that it is done, then we (they, you, I) are lying to themselves and others. I am sure that the labeling, defining, box-placing can be traced back to some tribal instinct. In any case, admitting there is a problem is the first step.
The question at hand is to what extent will someone go in order to be able to put someone in a box? Will a conversation not be able to move forward until the other person is in the best designated container? Will all body language cues be ignored to relieve personal discomfort in the not knowing? If you (the royal you) cannot find the right label to stick on a person, can you leave it be?
My hope is that you can say YES to this. Or, by the end of this post, you’ll consider it.
A few ladies, including myself, were sitting at in someone’s living room enjoying some adult beverages, nibbles, and anecdotal conversations. Three of us were able to be “labeled” as from some kind of minority group. The other two were closer to the Western majority in appearance. Although four of the five of us are expats in this country, only one of us – not myself – speak the native language of our residence with any kind of fluency. Still, we all have had different life experiences and so we were casually sharing about our lives.
I was sharing about my regular forced justification to inquisitors as to where I am from — where I’m really from, and why it is such a problem to me. The other two minorities shared similar stories, though different in that they are not adopted, so it doesn’t get so personal – at least in my opinion.
What was clear was that 1. people do not think having to be identified as adopted is a personal enough fact to consider frustrating; 2. lighter skinned people think of the interrogation as either a minor annoyance or not a big deal; 3. the topic gets dismissed through microaggressive phrases like Oh, I get that, too. Or, Yeah, everyone has that, don’t they?
It is difficult to try to explain why it is NOT the same, nor is it NOTHING just because it has no underlying issues for someone else.
When one is adopted, there is always a sense of displacement and not belonging. Therefore, being forced to explain that my parents are white and I am not, just highlights that I am different. I have spent much of my life trying to not have that be the main identifier of who I am.
When one is a transracial adoptee, there is always a sense of standing out without effort. Therefore, being singled out and hounded about my origins creates an extreme sense of discomfort. Being forced to share personal information about myself before I actually know you well, and more detrimentally if in front of a group, is akin to being Hester Prynne in The Scarlet Letter.
Furthermore, when one has lived an expat life, there is a sense of not being limited to just one country or place that many cannot quite understand. I am a citizen of the world despite my passport belonging to one country.
The fact is that our lives are all unique. While I understand that some citizens of countries do not necessarily travel much or they may be less educated, exposed to a variety of people, I struggle to be compassionate in my answering. I am most definitely less forgiving of those who do travel and still do not seem able to accept that I do not fit into one particular box.
Parts of me fit into multiple boxes, but as I am not able to be cut up whilst I’m still living, it doesn’t do to try to put me in just one. If I took labels, I would have to cover myself all over like a well-travelled piece of luggage.
So, perhaps, one can better understand how and why it is that I dislike limitations and rules that bind. For me, everything can be challenged. Everything can be reshaped and redefined. Everything is possible to be true while nothing truly is.
I have accepted that I will probably never be free of the questions that help someone figure out how to identify and label me, for – as we started – it is human nature of us all. Just know that the reality is there just ain’t no box big enough for me to be placed in.
~T π₯πβοΈ
