Where are you from?
Gizzy, bro.
No, where are you from?
Well, we used to live in Auckland, but then moved to Ohakune; but I spent the most time in Gisborne…
No where are you from? You know, your people.
I was born in Hong Kong -
- Oh, so you're Hong Konese.
For most people the question of where we come from never seems to be given much thought. We look at our parents and know that we inherited our father's Maori nose, or our mother's left-handedness, and don't forget nana's sweet cooking skills; all have been passed through the generations. There is an inherent sense of belonging. A definitive cultural identity.
As an orphan, this is it.
What you see is what you get.
This is not a sob story. This is a story of triumph and carving my own sense of identity in a mash of cultures. My journey is a love story from my Creator to me.
I was born in Hong Kong and lived in an orphanage until my (adoptive) parents came and sprung me out of there at two years old. I grew up in a family of five kids where we spent the next few years moving around until we settled in Gisborne (East Coast represent!)
Back in my day (yes, I'm old enough to legitimately utter those words now) New Zealand wasn't exactly riddled with the 'Asian Invasion' - that is until I came on the scene. Jokes.
Racism is definitely alive and prevalent in New Zealand. I spent a lot of my formative years feeling like the Asian among the Pakeha/Maori family - Oh wait, I was. (Full disclosure: My parents adopted my older bro first, who is half Chinese) and school bullying didn't help extinguish the feelings of alienation.
At around nine years old I remember a lady asking my mom if I was an exchange student. At that age you're mostly thinking about your Barbies outfits or practising your sweet gymnastics routines on the front lawn, not thinking about where you come from. But it seems that where your from matters. No matter the age. I was labeled and put into a little box. The adopted Asian child.
I don't remember the exact moment of realisation at how different I looked compared to my family but I do remember wishing I looked like those tall blonde haired, blue-eyed Barbie dolls or at least like someone in my family. No matter how much you are told that you are the "same" and "I love you as much as your siblings" it doesn't quite sink in…
Fast forward 20-odd years later, I am now a wife and mother to my own daughter. I have had the honour of growing a beautiful baby girl in my belly and being able to watch her blossom and change over the past six months has been a healing journey for me. So much so that I have decided that I am now ready to find the enigma that is my Birth Mother.
I'm not sure what is ahead. I am hoping for the best. As I write this I have already emailed the orphanage I was in… Wish me Luck!
