Black hair, brown eyes, 4 feet 11, takes advanced classes, and most importantly, has the funny weird accent. With such a description one might think, squinty eyes, musical talent, rice, and smart. Well at least, most people think that way.
I am Angie Lin, American born, shortest 8th grader, and is commonly referred to that Asian girl who speaks "Ching chong ding dong". People make dramatically incorrect representations of my eyes by pulling the edges of theirs outwards and ask me for Ramen Noodles every time I walk down the hallways of Lake Minster Middle School. It's not that I get offended - I have grown used to such mocking – but it tends to be annoying. Lake Minster Middle is 63% Caucasian, 31% African-American, and 6% Asian. Being part of that 6% Asian, we are generally stereotyped as the nerds and rice eaters of the school. Although bullying is restrained in a tight grip, stereotyping manages to sneak by the iron fist.
Ever since I attended Lake Minster, I hoped that I could hang out with friends, walk with company, and never be under the stare of typical Asian expectations. My hopes are well . . . still imaginations. All of my teachers expect straight A's flashing on my report cards, the musical directors all believe that I should be the lead when clearly, I am not as advanced, and my closest of friends have come to the conclusion that I am never able to play because I am "stuck working on math and playing the violin". Sorry guys, but I am just the opposite. I get the occasional B, I struggle while playing violin with my small hands, and I most certainly have time to play, it's just that these stereotypes assume that I am "working". I try to live a normal life. I have quit debate, befriended more Caucasians and African-Americans than Asians, and I have a strict limit on how much rice I eat. My efforts have always been in vain.
When my Asian friends comment, "Oh my God Angie, you are so white now!", I just laugh and brush it off. But when they ask, "Why are you acting so differently?", I am speechless and often shrug and walk away. The real reason I act so, happened 5 years ago in 3rd grade.
It was the first day of school. Everyone dressed up in cute dresses and shirts hoping to leave a good impression. I, having recently changed from homeschool to public school, came in a traditional Chinese dress. My new classmates soon noticed me when my round glasses started catching the sunlight and whenever I smiled, my pearly . . . braces did so too. For a whole month, kids were constantly asking me to remove my glasses so they could see my "Asian eyes". They were always asking me questions, that until now, have I realized were directed towards my Asian "strangeness". I never answered or did what they asked, because I was confused at such odd requests. In return, my peers began taking my too-big-for-me glasses and running away with them. I was dubbed, "Brace Face" and kids would ask, "where is your funny looking dress?" I would just smile and walk away until one day, Olivia Winton, an American citizen – like me – said that I will never take off my glasses because my eyes were so small underneath them, I would go blind. At this remark, all the kids around me began laughing and making the "Asian eyes". I came home crying. Glasses gone. I threw them away, vowing that I never wanted to be teased about my Asian characteristics ever again.
To this day, my wish has not been fulfilled. Although, I am accepted as an American citizen and the teasing is for good fun, I still want those barbed stereotypes to vanish.