My parents met when my dad (Czech, Irish, Scottish, and French – born and raised in Ohio) served a Peace Corps mission in the Philippines where my mom lived with her family. He brought her back to the United States, where I was born.
When I was seven, my family moved to Salt Lake City, Utah, where most people were white and Mormon.
I remember getting teased a few times because my eyes were “like this” (as kids would pull the corners of their eyes up), but in general I got along with everyone. Continue reading
I’m half Japanese and the rest is a mix of Irish, French, and British of which I’m unsure.
Growing up, I never heard the word “Hapa” in the Northeast where there was a small Asian population, but I always identified as being mixed. I regret that I couldn’t really be exposed to much Japanese culture there, despite my mom’s efforts to immerse me as much as she could.
I guess my experience is even more different since I also grew up with an autistic brother. My family decided it would be best to use only English at home, so I lost my Japanese fluency by the time I entered first grade. It was always annoying to have to justify why I didn’t speak fluent Japanese. Right now I’m re-learning Japanese and I’m determined speak with enough fluency to visit by myself in a couple years.
My mother is Korean and my father is Irish, German, Scottish, Dutch, and Native American.
Growing up multicultural and multiracial in a town where there were not many other Hapa folk (I knew one other Hapa growing up) created some confusion for me; I never felt comfortable in the Korean-American community (I look so white) and yet much of my upbringing that was influenced by Korean culture always left me feeling a bit out of place among my very western White American peers.
I remember that the Asian-American kids in school would not believe me when I told them my mother was from Korea and would ask me to prove it with pictures. On the flipside, there were many occasions when Caucasian-American kids would tell me I looked “funnny” and ate “funny-looking” foods for lunch.
Hi I’m Jared. I’m proud to be Hapa because I am the combination of two cool different cultures, families, and appearances.
I have embraced my heritage because I don’t consider myself or am fully accepted as one or the other, I am both. It’s funny because all my white friends think I’m Asian while most of my Asian friends think I’m of some weird Asian race or white.
I have faced challenges such as easily falling into the stereotypes of others because it makes life simple. I often find myself picking one ethnicity over the other, and being pushed out of one I considered myself part of.
When all is said and done, I honestly feel the most welcomed, accepted, understood and “part of” by Hapa friends and family. I am Hapa.
My mother is Korean and my dad is Korean/Irish, both were born and raised in Korea.
When they came to the states they moved to a small town in Northern California where we didn’t have many Asians.
Growing up, I thought I was full Korean until around middle school I found out I was mixed. I always told people I was half Korean/German only because I had a German last name, but up until probably end of junior high I found out I was only a quarter white and my last name was not my real last name. (Confused yet?)
I grew up learning two languages (Korean and English) which was very difficult at a young age. People always told me I looked exotic or unique while growing up which I liked because I loved being different. I grew up knowing the Korean culture but as I got older I became more Americanized. Overall, I am happy to be Hapa!
Hi! I was kind of surprised to find a website dedicated to mixed Asians, but very happy that I did!
I am half Japanese from my mom’s side, and my dad is mixed with German, Irish, and Native American.
I am proud to be Hapa because it makes me unique and different. Although it can be hard at times, especially when you are in your teen years and trying to come to terms with your identity and who you are. Not fitting into one certain race can be quite hard.
I always felt caught in the middle because I didn’t totally fit into a specific category. But now that I’m older and more in tune with who I am, it doesn’t bother me to not fit in.
My mother is South Indian with a trace of English blood, and my father is 1/4 Irish with the rest being a mixture of French, German, English and Welsh.
I’ve grown up in a very, very liberal city in the Bay Area. Even so, when my mother would walk me in my stroller as an infant, passers by would assume she was my nanny simply because I had such fair skin as a child.
No one can even come close to guessing my ethnicity — I’ve heard Greek, Spanish, Portuguese, and Middle Eastern, although my liberal sprinkling of freckles most likely plays a large role in throwing people off track. I inherited frizzy, capricious hair and most of my facial features from my dad and my dark hair and eyes from my mom, but the rest is a strange amalgam that cannot be traced to either parent or their lineage.
I grew up in a very ethnically diverse area on the East Coast – there was a large Japanese community, and we were also lucky to travel to Japan every few years to visit my grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, and family friends.
My mother is the only one in her family that left Japan, my father is Caucasian but speaks, reads and writes fluent Japanese and seems to have some non-biological Japanese running through him somehow. Japanese was my first language.
Through most of my twenties I didn’t feel especially connected with my Japanese roots, but now in my thirties I am wishing I had spent more time in Japan as an adult. Around this time of year, autumn turning to winter, like clockwork I am always hit with an intense yearning to be in Japan, to speak Japanese, cook and eat Japanese food, and certain aspects of my Western life stop making sense to me.
Hello! Lovely to see so many beautiful, diverse and interesting faces!
My name is Shannon. I’m an American who usually answers the “What are you?” question with, “I’m a quarter Korean and a whole lot of white!” My mother is Korean/German and my father is Irish/German/French.
I’ve always embraced my heritage. Perhaps somewhat to my detriment as a child. I grew up in Massachusetts in a very white neighborhood and used to talk with pride about being Korean. It didn’t take too long however, for kids to start making fun of me with racial slurs. I think having undergone severe discrimination makes me identify with my heritage even more. I can at least say that now my peers are always interested by my distinct background and consider it pretty cool.