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“My mom is Korean and my father is American.” That’s usually what I say when I’m asked, “What are you?”

I grew up in Orem, Utah. It was hard to find anyone in my neighborhood who wasn’t white. I was teased a lot in school when I was little for being “Chinese.” My dad always said, “Be like a duck. When water falls on a duck’s feathers it just rolls right off. Don’t let it get to you, let it roll off.”

Since I’ve grown up in the United States, I mostly identify with being an American more than being a Korean. It was only until after I married my blonde hair, blue eyed husband from Montana that I realized many of my traits and behaviors are considered more “Korean.” Sometimes, it feels like there is a part of me missing, or a part of me that I don’t fully understand since I haven’t really spent that much time in Korea.

It’s can also be frustrating, because I feel as though I am stuck between these two worlds. I can’t fully connect with my American side, but I can’t fully connect with my Korean side either. That’s why I appreciate reading about other Hapas and their experiences and pride.

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