Hiding from Myself

Summer 2004

By Heidi Tolentino

When Shwayla James, an urban middle-school teacher, approached me about working together and shared her experiences as a child of color, I was taken back to my own youth and my struggle for a sense of identity. Even as a young child I wanted so badly to belong, but belonging in my community meant being white. So I passed myself off as white. I even lied about my middle name, changing it from Kimiko to Kimberly. Somehow, I left the half of myself that is Japanese-American in a box under my bed and went on about my business. But hiding is complicated. You can't hide from the jokes that people make or the word "Jap." You can't hide the fear that courses through you when someone says the word "Asian" and you wait for the disparaging remarks or the racist joke. Those words leave wounds that never quite heal. You can only laugh halfheartedly at the jokes so many times before you begin to hate who you are and long to be someone else. No one in my school celebrated who I was, not even me.

Summer 2004