Because sometimes being brown sucks...

Hi everyone,
I decided to start this blog because I am far too young and angry to keep my thoughts to myself. I want this to be a space where I can not only talk about my issues but of course South Asian American issues and broader Asian Pacific American issues as well as all other civil rights issues. I also want to use this blog to finally be honest with myself and my friends about who I am and all sixty billion of my insecurities. Please don't expect me to not have gramatical and spelling errors, they are bound to happen. Let me start by telling you about myself, sir Blog. I am senior Government and Politics major at the University of Maryland College Park. I grew up in Ellicott City, MD, a mostly white, but recently very Asian suburb in Howard County. I am pretty awkward when you first meet me, but once I get to know you, I open up a lot more.

Growing up I was beyond ashamed of my skin color and everything that goes with it. I wanted to deny any relation to being a Sri Lankan American. Not that I can really hide it, it's right there when you see me, dark skin, brown eyes, a funny nose, and entirely too much body hair. Let's not forget my fourteen letter last name and my regularly misprounced first name. I just wanted be like the white kids. In my head they were what beauty was. I just wanted to look like Posh Spice, Britney Spears or Christina Aguilera, which let's face it is one hell of a longshot. Being brown made me feel ugly and different. One time, in 6th grade, we had a project called the Culture Bag where we had to talk about our original cultural heritage and bring in things that symbolized our culture. I was like HELL NO. I am not about the only one in the class who does not bring in something about England, Ireland, Germany or any other random European country. And how the hell was I supposed to drop the Sri Lanka bomb on them? I mean I knew where Sri Lanka is but how many middle schoolers can say that. Most people just assumed I was Indian and I let them think that because I didn't feel like being even more of a freak by correcting them and telling them my family comes from a little rain drop shapped Island in Asia. So instead I did my project on Great Britain(which now that I think of it, did enslave my people for so long, it could be true), and I said I was half Indian so it was at least believeable. But rest assure, this bag had nothing to do with India. It had a giant union jack on the front and all the contents were related to Great Britain. My mom even asked me why I was doing it on Great Britain, so I lied and said I was allowed to choose a random culture.

High School wasn't any better. I dyed my hair all the time. At one point I was as close to blond as I could go without looking completely stupid(it was actually more of an orange color). I wanted all the white boys I had a crush on to like me. I wanted to get asked out and actually have a date to homecoming like seemingly everyone else did. I tried to be all punk rock and got piercings to distinguish myself from all the Asian American kids at my high school. I didn't stand up for myself when this ignorant ass teacher would constantly mispronounce my name even after I corrected her(nowadays I will draw the line at being called Koomoooduh) and mixed me up with the other brown girl in my class. I did not stand up when on the first day of class another cocky male teacher put all of us in our place by talking about how "the black kids are usually loud and out of line and the Asian kids are always quiet and hardworking". When I finally lucked out senior year, and started talking to white boys, I thought, this is it, I'm finally accepted by them. But I was wrong. If I was at the mall holding hands with a white boy, I got the dirtiest looks. I kid you not people would look at us like we were eating babies. The thing is, it wasn't just white people giving the looks, it was EVERYONE. It was the oh-so-terrifying clash of light and dark skin. Brown people were actually the worst when it came to giving dirty looks. I'll never forget being at the lake front with someone, and a group of brown guys, who were complete strangers shouted "whoa. She's dating a white boy" as loud as the possibly could.

When I got to college I transitioned with the same sort of attitude. I started first semester of freshman year at Towson University. For those of you who don't know anything about Towson, its a public college with lower academic standards than Maryland and a huge party reputation. At Towson I could count the number of brown people I saw on one hand. It was easy for me to go back to be the only brown girl. And this time around, I had an angle when it came to getting white boys. Almost everytime I got hit on at a party by some random drunk guy, I would always get a line about how hot I was because I was "foreign" or "exotic". I, not being quiet the model minority, was not smart enough to get into Maryland first semester, but I was offered Spring admissions. Here's where the whole being honest with myself comes in. If you ask me which school I like better, Maryland or Towson, I will most definitely tell you Towson and I will tell you it is because of better food, dorms, class size and my awesome roomates. The truth is sort of miss being the lone brown person, I mean ignorance is bliss right? Wrong. I know it's wrong but sometimes its easier to just get along and have friends of all backgrounds and pretend that this little racism thing doesn't even exist. I definitely can't stand how racially segregated Maryland. If you had told me while I was at Towson that there was such thing as a South Asian interest-sorority, let alone that I would be in one, I would have told you you were absolutely insane.

When I got to Maryland, the brown people were everywhere! There was three other brown girls living on my dorm floor. As much as I tried hiding from the brown crowd, I was a transfer student and I would take any friends that would accept me(I know that sounds really jacked up, but I haven't a clue how to rephrase it). It was funny to see all the merging of South Asian cultures. Everyone want to ISA meetings, even though they were'nt all Indian. My friends would make fun of me for being "white washed" and not knowing things like what a "bhangra" was. I thought I would fit in, but it felt really awkward. I heard things about these brown, so called "desi" people. That they were drama. I still feel awkward sometimes. Like I'm being judged, especially around the brown people that don't really know me. Nonetheless, it was a relief not to be insecure about my hairiness and my crazy name. When people asked about my ethnicity, I didn't feel offend or felt like I was being "outed" like when White people do it.

Now here I am at University of Maryland, in a South Asian interest sorority and part of the Asian American Student Union. I have spent most of my recent years wondering why I was afraid of my undeniable browness. I know it sounds strange, but it's almost like I came out of the cultural closet. Like I can finally say that I am Asian American, that I am South Asian, and most shockingly of all, that I am a Sri Lankan American. Happy Ending right? I wish. Although I am at least some what secure with my cultural identity, other problems have come up with my newfound browness.

For instance, I love the Asian Pacific American movement. I love it. I haven't been this passionate about something since I was obsessed with singing for two short years in middle school and spent all my time singing Nsync and Britney in the bathroom with my hairbrush. I love being a part of it on campus and love being part of through work in summer internships with DC orgs. The question that remains here is, does the movement love me back? I am usually one of few brown people(if not the only) at Asian Pacific American events. I always get glares from people like, "what is she doing here?" and "she's not Asian, she's Indian"(which I always find funny, since I am Asian and not Indian). There's always someone who says refers to us as being yellow, and I want to chime in and be like, what about the brown people sir? Are we yellow? Of course I don't. It's the same problem in a different situation. I refuse to stand up. I refuse to be myself and educate others about the error in my ways. Perhaps I am afraid of appearing too sensitive? But if I don't stand up, who will? Who will teach other people that brown people are Asian Americans? Who will teach people that not all South Asians are Indians? I have to start standing up. We all have to start standing up.

I just cleaned out a small tiny portion of my closet with this blog. I hope that you can do the same. That is my identity crisis in a nutshell, but I think you've had enough for one entry, so I leave you all with this.

STAND UP.