Confucius say what?

Recently, I've been processing something that happened to me a couple of weeks ago. I was at a Girl Scout leader retreat; only adult leaders were invited from the entire region. Adult volunteers were there from several counties. However, we're in Washington and this is Girl Scouts.

I was the only Asian woman there.

I'm not saying that there are no other brownies (and by brownies, I mean non-caucasians) in the organization. Only that there weren't any at this retreat. And truth is, I don't know all their racial heritages. They all looked white to me -- but I'm not fool enough to accuse anybody of being white through and through. Especially here -- we've got lots of people who (to borrow a term from African American culture) pass as white but are actually mixed race. But to my quick assessment of the room, I was the only person who was Asian.

I had a wonderful time at the retreat. I didn't feel out of place and certainly felt welcomed by everybody there. Truly, truly, these are incredible women and they're all great volunteers. These functions are usually pretty free flowing. We teach each other new songs or crafts that we can share with the girls. We explore the different camps and take in a hike or two. We often discuss organizational changes or try to plan regional events. It sure is nice to be part of this group of women.

But then there was this one moment. The moment that I have kind of been processing for a few weeks now because I'm not sure how I could have handled it. All I know is that by every angle, I think I handled it wrong by everyone's standards. Except for my own.

I wish I could remember exactly what the conversation was. I wish I could remember why I even laughed after that first joke, but I think I did because it wasn't a joke completely out of the blue. It followed the course of the conversation so I didn't think it was strange. It was the following two or three jokes that didn't sit right with me.

In the natural course of the conversation, someone told a "Confucius say," joke. For the uninitiated, it's usually some clever turn of phrase in broken English  for example, "Confucius say man who cut self while shaving lose face." But as I said, that first joke I laughed. And then the next one was said -- in that same broken English and fake Chinese accent. And the next one. And I cannot remember if there was a fourth.

What I remember was how it made me feel.

Offended isn't the right word. It is too strong a word. I wasn't offended. But I was reminded abruptly that I wasn't part of them. That I wasn't white. That my family story & my racial heritage are not theirs.

Also interesting are the reactions I got when I told my friends about the incident.

My white husband (not meanly mind you) said, "are you looking for something to be upset about?" And I found myself questioning my motivations. I wasn't *trying* to get upset, but clearly something did not sit right with me. I was trying to process.

One of my best friends, also white, said, "I never think of you as non-white. I just think of you as a person." And yes, I am a person. But I am a person who happens to be Chinese. It's not like I can change the color of my skin or the shape of my eyes or the history of my people. That too is part of my personhood.

My friend who is African American scolded me for not stopping them in the moment. He said I should have made them stop making those jokes and reminded them that I was Chinese. That those jokes were offensive. He scolded me for having laughed at the first joke. That it made me complicit and that I've somehow done a disservice to all the people in the organization and society as a whole. But that too seems too extreme. It took me days to even put a word to the moment. It took me days to understand it in any way and to put it into context for myself. I know I wasn't ready right then to say a single word about it.

If I had spoken up and shamed these women, my newly made friends, told them that their jokes were racist, what exactly would that have accomplished? My "otherness" would have been even more extreme. My "otherness" would have been highlighted and I would not have been known simply as Tess, but instead Tess, the Chinese American girl. (Yes, I know I'm Filipina too but I'm trying to stay on point.)

But beyond that, the fact that these jokes are part of our culture still today, that they're not as horrifying and easily identifiable as racism as jokes against other races -- what exactly does that say about our culture? I've heard it said that we're the good minority because we don't make waves; that Asians study and work hard. But that stereotype is a disservice to Asian people too. Even if a stereotype is "good," it still diminishes you as an individual.

I wish I had a nice neat bow to finish up this little essay but I don't. I don't think I can figure all this out in one little essay. For my part, I think I'll try to say something next time. I'm not sure what I will say. There is only one thing I know for sure.

There will be a next time.