Isa Chen

I didn’t realise how being mixed affected my childhood until I learnt that wanting to be white and doing anything I could to have blonde, straight hair was deeper than just wanting to fit in, and that people pulling their eyes back as a joke wasn't actually funny. I remember asking my nanny why I wasn’t pale like my friends at school and if she knew how to make my skin whiter when I was only 8 years old. This was probably due to the fact that I went to a predominantly white primary school and assumed that something was wrong with me because no one looked like me. However, being mixed with just about every country in the world also comes with its advantages, one of them being the look on people’s faces after I tell them where i’m from. That said, I still haven’t figured out if I’m looking at a face in awe or the face of someone who has no clue where Trinidad is but it sounds “cool and exotic” so they smile anyways. The description “exotic” always found me conflicted as i’m sure people mean no harm when they say it but being compared to plants and birds can honestly feel dehumanising and fetish-like.

Something I’ve also noticed is that Italians are less aware of the fact that mixed people, who aren’t black and white, do in fact exist. I’m Sicilian so it’s easier to blend in during summer when everyone’s flaunting their tan and curly hair but I’ve never quite managed to avoid the awkward situations when people talk in Italian about my sister and I, not realising we understand everything they say. And yes, I do then say the most random sentence in Italian just to see them go red. Despite all these things, being mixed is a blessing. From the variety of meals I get to eat, the travelling and cultural traditions I’m able to experience and the languages and accents I’m surrounded by, there’s nothing in the world I’d trade my heritage for.