being biracial and living at the intersection between two cultures.

culture [kuhl-chuh] | origin: middle english

• (noun.) the ideas, customs, and social behaviour of a particular people or society.

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Growing up, my earliest childhood memories were of my first week of primary school. Until I was 7 years old, I didn’t think of myself as being different compared to any other child in that room. I distinctly remember taking attendance during that week and raising my hand when my teacher called my name. She gave me an unsure look, pausing as she marked my name down on the clipboard in her hands. My classmates turned their heads to look at me and did the same giving me confused looks That was the first time I was made aware of my racial ambiguity; as if I was something to be gawked at because my outward appearance didn’t align with the expectations that are usually associated with my name. Unfortunately for me, this would be something I would experience time and time again no matter where or who I introduced myself to.

Having a secure sense of identity was something I always struggled with up until my 20s. Growing up at the intersection between Chinese and Malay culture has made me hyperaware of the nuances. I am grateful to have grown up in a household that combines the best of both worlds and the lines between Chinese and Malay are blurred. But out in the world, I am forced to face the rigid racial boxes that Malaysian society is so accustomed to through others imposing their values onto me.

Now as an adult, the confusion is something I shrug off. The lines that automatically follow after introducing myself are:

Yes, I am mixed. I’m half Chinese-Malay. My mum is fully Chinese and my dad is half, that’s why I look more Chinese.

My experience of being biracial is very context-dependent. The first meeting is always a bit awkward and I like to believe that their surprised reaction comes from a place of ignorance and curiosity, not malice. Then come the questions. Everything from my parentage to the languages I speak, people are curious and I indulge in answering.

However, some questions leave me with a bitter taste in my mouth.

“Why don’t you speak Mandarin? Didn’t your parents teach you?”

“Why don’t you wear a tudung? You’re Malay kan.”

“What kind of food do you eat at home? Is it like a mix of Chinese and Malay food?”

“Do you feel like you’re more Chinese or more Malay?”

In racially dominant spaces, this felt as if they didn’t believe I earned my keep to be part of the Chinese and Malay community. They didn’t believe me to be Chinese or Malay enough and resorted to quizzing me instead. I can’t say this didn’t hurt but it made me feel less of a person knowing that I wasn’t being seen.

In a 2005 study, Cheryan and Monin labeled this very experience of having one’s group membership challenged by others as “identity denial”; one specific type of identity denial they recognised was "categorisation threat". This can be described as an experience of being mis-categorised as a member of an incorrect group. "Perceived exclusion from the group often results in negative emotional responses and increased attempts to assert one’s identity as a group member and regain acceptance into the group," (Cheryan and Monin, 2005).

As a result of strangers questioning my racial identity, I’ve often had to prove that I am as culturally knowledgeable as they are. I had to reassert myself as part of the community whether it was code-switching my accent or throwing in additional slang. This was beyond frustrating because it felt like no matter how much I tried, people would undermine and mis-categorise my racial identity.

Funnily, Cheryan and Monin (2005) described the same thing I experienced. Among the Asian-American participants who were incorrectly categorised as non-U.S. citizens by a White experimenter, participants reacted with negative emotions (such as anger or offense), developed feelings of dislike for the experimenter, showed greater displays of American cultural knowledge, and increased reports of engaging in American practices.

Doing further research on this opinion piece, I found other authors with similar experiences as I do (Younan-Montgomery, 2021; McKenzie, 2018; Fukuyama, 1999). Being biracial is a grey area that no one but yourself has to figure out. It’s a large, confusing puzzle where you’re trying to solve it yourself but there's a crowd on the sidelines, giving you unsolicited advice on where you should place your pieces.

With race being a fundamental organising principle in Malaysian society, it’s difficult to escape these rigid categorisation boxes that not only people around me but the state itself tries to fit me in. As put eloquently by Gabriel (2015), they state:

Written into public policies and practices and embedded into the formal structures and institutions of state, race is a ubiquitous term in the public lexicon, from parliament and lecture theatres to everyday domains of exchange. It is also an ascribed identity – one’s race as a ‘Malay’, ‘Chinese’, ‘Indian’ or ‘Other’ (MCIO) is determined at/by birth, inscribed on the birth certificate, and, from the age of 12, on the national identity card, and cannot be changed.  (Gabriel, 2015; 783).

I have a deep love for Malaysia and its people, but when your entire identity is shaped by the constraints of the MCIO system, it can be challenging to develop a clear sense of self. I know who I am, but the rest of the world often tells me to pick a side or remain as an outsider.

Even at 26, I’m still figuring out who I am and where I draw the line. Some days I am more Chinese, and other days Malay. And some days I’m sitting somewhere in between, teetering on an imaginary picket fence balancing so I don’t fall and hurt myself. For now, I’ll continue to sheepishly smile at people when they get confused meeting me for the first time. In the meantime, I’ve taken some reassurance and solace that I am not the only one in this country who feels this way as I continue to trudge on and remain steadfast in my evolving sense of identity.

Note: Happy Tuesday ya'll! For this piece, I didn't want to dive into the topic too deeply. But maybe in the future I'll write a more research-based version if anyone is interested. Probably looking into the theory of identity formation and how it applies to the Malaysian context.

Resources:

1. Fukuyama, M. A. (1999), Personal Narrative: Growing Up Biracial, Journal of Counseling & Development, 7.

2. McKenzie, A. B. (2018), The Grey Zone: Growing up Biracial in Rural Canada, Journal of Social History, 31.

3. Gabriel, S. P. (2015), The meaning of race in Malaysia: Colonial, post-colonial and possible new conjunctures, Ethnicities, 15(6).

4. Younan-Montgomery, R. (2021), A Point of View: Mixed Race Experience is Hard to Categorize. Stop Trying. The Inclusion Solution. https://theinclusionsolution.me/a-point-of-view-mixed-race-experience-is-hard-to-categorize-stop-trying/