I was born and raised in Brazil, the son of a third-generation Japanese father, whose grandparents came over from Japan before the 2nd World War as immigrants.

At first, they got here only to harvest coffee beans in the large farms, under the ironic promise to harvest gold from the fruits grown on the Brazilian soil. They never moved back to Japan (and only visited once after leaving), so along with hundreds of thousands of Japanese immigrants, they made Brazil the largest Japanese community outside Japan.

My grandmother’s family Mizusaki, from Wakayama, once a noble family with a family crest in Japan, ended up losing everything and harvesting crops in Brazil after two long months sailing the oceans to cross the world.

My grandfather’s Inage family, from Fukuoka, was a carpenter family, and, after paying all the travel fees and buying a house with their work on the farm, they built a successful woodworking business. They even adventured making wheels, truck bodywork and seed planting machines, all exported by steam train. I am so proud of their saga and I could spend all the day, or even the week, to tell all the stories I know about my ancestors.

My mum’s family is traditionally Brazilian, of Portuguese origin mainly. Although my mum’s straight, dark hair comes from her Native American grandmother, who was probably from the Guarani or Kaingang tribe. I was also told that my lips come from an African great-great-grandmother, what brings fascination when I realize I have the blood from all human races running in my veins.

I love Japanese food (more than the mainstream dishes), use Japanese words at home and take part in Buddhist rituals once in a while (such as my great-grandfather’s funeral).

I cannot speak Japanese, because the language was not passed down. During World War 2, Brazil forbade the Japanese (and Italians and Germans) from speaking their native language, or even having texts in their languages (this forced my great-grandfather to bury his Japanese books and scripts in the ground).

I have never suffered deeply with being Hapa. Brazil is a multicultural country from its roots, and I am talking about even before the Portuguese came ashore. With the colonialist and slave-owning history, my country faces everyday challenges on accepting diversity, but, most of the time, everybody is okay with it. While it does seem like every Asian-looking person here is called “japa” or “Japanese” or “Jackie Chan,” at some point, that did not affect me much while growing up. As a child sometimes I felt underestimated, but nowadays, I feel proud!

Bearing all this diversity inside of me gives me pride and thirst for getting deeper into my ancestors’ stories, homelands, and culture. Through this reflection I can view the human journey across the centuries and continents. As a biologist who is about to finish my degree, I admire it even more.

I am Gabriel Mitsuo and I am a citizen of the planet.

My name is Sofia. I’m 15, and I’m half Turkish and half Indonesian. I was born in America, where I currently live, however my parents immigrated here from their home countries.

Part of me is proud of my Hapa identity because I feel that it makes me extremely unique, and I do enjoy standing out at certain times. People are often interested and fascinated with the way I’m different, but at the same time, being multiracial has given me a lack of self-confidence.

Sometimes I feel like the odd one out. I have a terrible time fitting in with the people where I live. My mixed genetics can make me incredibly insecure. I feel like I look like an alien, because my appearance is so different than the people around me.

Unfortunately, I don’t have dominating features from one of my parents that can make me easily identifiable as either Asian or Mediterranean, so most people don’t know what to assume and many are puzzled at first sight and feel compelled to ask, which is understandable. Sometimes I wish I could just be fully one ethnicity, so my facial features did not have to “blend” or “mix” in such a weird and uncommon way.

I’m still learning how to embrace my heritage. Coming from two totally opposite worlds is difficult, because I can’t fully adopt both at the same time, especially when I already culturally identify myself as American.

However, being Hapa gives me the amazing privilege of getting to be a part of two totally different cultures. I get to fully witness and become a part of the way of living as both an Indonesian and Turk in my household, and even more so when we visit our families. Traveling is my favorite thing to do and we travel often to both of these beautiful countries, which is definitely a perk of being Hapa.

Being Hapa definitely has its advantages and disadvantages. Although I face personal problems of not embracing myself yet and feeling isolated from everyone else, being Hapa is a gift. It is who I am and it can very possibly be the best trait about me.

My name is Michaela, I am a 27 year old graphic designer and illustrator from Bratislava.

I was born in Slovakia (Czechoslovakia, to be historically accurate), but my grandfather comes from Kilju in North Korea.

For many years I lived in Bratislava and Piešťany (still my two most favourite cities), then for two years in Prague while I studied there. For the last 4.5 years, I’ve lived in Helsinki and Tampere in Finland. I live with my Finnish boyfriend, a dog, and a cat (our beloved furry children).

Most of my life I’ve been proud of my Korean heritage, but when I was younger, I sometimes wished I wasn’t so visibly ‘different’ in the mostly Caucasian society. Kids often made fun of me, especially for my different nose shape and my downward facing eyelashes. Interestingly, when the Disney movie Mulan came out, I strongly identified with Mulan herself, because she was almost like me, and that was so nice to see. :) (I also remember I used to want all the non-blonde Barbies, and I preferred the Asian looking ones the most.)

Somehow, my Hapa face looks very local wherever I travel, so people usually assume I am from wherever I am at (even some Finns thought I could be possibly of Finnish Saami heritage) and people tend to talk to me in their local language. This sometimes leads to quite humorous situations – for example, on our recent trip to China, a lady in one street restaurant brought chopsticks for me and a fork and knife for my blonde, Finnish boyfriend. On another note, while I look pretty passable in a Korean hanbok, I look like an Asian tourist in a Slovak folk costume, which is really entertaining for everyone around me. :D

Luckily, I haven’t really had any challenges as a multiracial individual, maybe except some silly ones, like the beautician not knowing how to trim my eyebrows (they have a very Korean shape). Another ‘challenge’ is picking the right foundation for my skin tone, and the right mascara; most foundations are too pink or orange for me, and most mascaras fall off my eyelashes (except Shiseido it seems….which is Japanese).

I don’t celebrate any Korean holidays, with exception of always noticing the Lunar New Year and reading my horoscope for the next year (though I forget quickly what it says). But I can cook several Korean dishes, and I’ve learned some Korean language, and I’ve done some Taekwon-Do. Oh and do you know the Eat Your Kimchi channel? I used to watch it a lot :)) Now I just often listen to trashy K-Pop compilations on Spotify, it’s very relaxing at work! :)

P. S. I also picked a Korean name for my portfolio domain: ‘misul‘ means ‘art’ in Korean and ‘do‘ is a ‘way.’ It’s also one of my nicknames, so this fits all together nicely. :)

My name is Alex. I am 19 years old and currently studying at San Francisco State University. My mom is Japanese and my dad is Italian, English, and Irish.

I was born and raised in California. Growing up, I took many visits to Japan where I spent the summer with relatives. It is because of these trips that I feel more connected to my Japanese heritage than I do to my European heritage.

It’s been a difficult journey to accept being Hapa. I always identified as more Japanese than caucasian but people always protested and said I look more white. This led to identity issues and I had a hard time figuring out who I was. It was difficult to identify with groups of people, which in turn hindered my ability to make friends. I wanted friends to accept who I am and not to tell me that I can never belong in any group since I am not “full blooded.” Many people also assumed what I was. I’ve been called Filipino, Mexican, and Samoan without even being asked. I felt offended that they characterized my heritage based on what I looked like.

But I’ve learned to love my mixed heritage. I get to experience traditions that my mom grew up with, like taking off my shoes before I enter the house and putting on house slippers. Most people I tell this to find this odd, but I grew up with it and I embrace it. I do celebrate some Japanese holidays, too. In Japanese culture, you’re viewed as a foreigner even if you’re half Japanese, so these holidays help me feel more connected to the Japanese people.

I also get to experience the Italian culture as my father is more Italian than English and Irish. This came with special perks like eating pasta and washing it down with wine (don’t call the cops on me).

Getting to experience many different cultures has helped spark a curiosity to explore other cultures outside of mine. Being Hapa is a blessing and I wouldn’t change my mixed heritage for just one as I love them all.

My name is Amy, and I identify as Japanese and Caucasian.

My mum is Japanese, and my dad is Caucasian – Scottish and British. My brother and I were born in Australia, where we grew up and still live. The area we grew up in, in Perth, was predominantly Caucasian, I remember being one of the only non-white kids at my primary school. When my dad would walk around with my brother and I in public, people couldn’t seem to fathom where this white man had gotten two Japanese kids from.

Fortunately I was rarely bullied at school, though once a kid asked me, “why is your nose different?” – my friend (who had just recently migrated from the Czech Republic) stuck up for me. My school lunches (peanut butter sandwiches, rice with nori and furikake, etc.) seemed to cause some confusion amongst my peers. The high school that we attended was much more multi-cultural, a relief.

My parents met in Perth. My dad had previously lived in Japan for several years during the 1970s, teaching English and learning Japanese. My mum had grown up in Japan but moved to Chicago, before coming to Australia. When my parents got together, my dad’s estranged father and his family were very unimpressed at my mum being a Japanese woman. The rest of his family were welcoming, though. My mum’s family were also apprehensive, though when they met my dad and realised he could speak Japanese, they accepted him warmly. Luckily, I’ve never felt any discrimination from either side.

Sometimes I resent the fact that neither my mum nor dad taught me to speak Japanese. I have taught myself a little, and have been visiting Japan every year for the past few years. I feel like, though my Japanese family are so caring and inclusive towards me, I am missing out on speaking with my grandma – as well as feeling unable to participate in Japanese culture very easily.

Often in Australia, strangers will ask me variations of: “Where are you from?”. This almost always happens when I’m in a service role, like when I worked at a cafe. People would sheepishly premise the question with, “Well… we were just wondering if we could ask you a question…”. It made me feel uncomfortable that they’d obviously been discussing it amongst themselves, though I always retorted by asking them to guess – which often made them in turn suddenly uncomfortable, or wanting to change the subject – a good tactic.

In Japan people stare at me, though are not discriminatory (as far as I can tell).

In Melbourne, I haven’t experienced much blatant racism towards me, though it certainly has happened. Sometimes, someone will spout some anti-Asian rubbish in front of or to me, not realising I’m Japanese (though, if someone spouted something vilifying any race, I’d give them a piece of my mind). I’ve also had people greet me in Mandarin, or describe me as “exotic”. More vaguely, I often hear people describe things as “oooh, very Japanese” (I don’t know what this means, exactly, but I think they were trying to say “brutal, yet delicate,” or something, but accidentally used a sweeping cultural generalisation).

But, no probs. I feel affinity with Caucasian people, Japanese people, combos, whatever. It’s all good stuff.

My name is Chase. My mom is half Japanese and my dad is Caucasian (he was adopted) as far as I know. I identify as Japanese American.

As a kid I was close to my grandmother and became interested in learning Japanese and about Japanese culture because of her. She would always enthusiastically show me and my twin Japanese food, teach us a little Japanese, and tell us stories from when she was a girl in Japan.

I was amazed by Japanese culture, I felt like it was fragile and should be preserved in my family as there were barely any Japanese people where I live. She was the only one that spoke Japanese and knew about the culture so I talked to her a lot and tried to learn as much as I could about Japan. I remember bringing home books about Japan and showing her and the biggest smile would light up on her face and she would tell me a story she remembered.

I remember walking to my grandma and grandpa’s trailer and always seeing umeboshi sitting on the counter along with a rice cooker that always had rice in it, soy sauce, packets of curry, and ramen. Every Saturday My mom, grandma, twin brother, and I would go to an Asian supermarket and refill her miso, natto, and on special occasions bought mochi. When she passed away a couple years ago it was really sad to see those things disappear. My grandma has played a huge role in my connection to my Japanese heritage and I couldn’t thank her enough.

Growing up in Indiana I wasn’t and still have not been bullied or picked on because of my race. I was mainly just asked what I was and where I came from. As I’ve gotten older I’ve become a lot more self conscious about my race and how people see me. Some people said that I can’t say I’m Asian because I’m only a quarter Japanese. At those times I just wished I was half like my mom or at least more than a quarter.

However, I’ve come to realize that I’m perfectly fine the way I am and don’t need anyone to tell me what I can and cannot identify as. It’s funny, the other day I watched “Are You Asian Enough?” from CollegeHumor, and I think a lot of people who are a quarter Asian can relate to that red-haired lady, including me.

Anyways, I’m really grateful to have grown up in a multiracial family, and even though I sometimes feel disappointed that more of the culture and language wasn’t passed down, I feel like a large enough window was opened for me to have a connection with it and the desire to learn about what I haven’t been exposed to yet.

Right now I’ve been studying Japanese for about four years and plan on studying abroad in Osaka once I graduate from high school this year. For college I’m thinking about majoring either in Japanese or International Relations, specifically between Japan and America.

My name is Alexis, and I identify as half-Japanese-American, and half-English. My father is second generation Japanese-American (ethnically completely Japanese, but culturally Japanese-American), and my mother is English.

I think that this is such a fantastic project, because at the very least I get to see all these wonderful people who understand what I go through. I live where there are few mixed-race individuals, let alone any Hapa people. I think it can be lonely to be something so different, and it’s very hard to describe what not-belonging feels like to others. Every time someone asks “So where are you from?” it feels like a loaded question with a tiresome answer. How do I explain that I am ethnically half-Asian, but my cultural ties are Japanese-American? That I am very British, but also a dual national? People get very bored very quickly, as they expect a quick and straight-forward answer. Now, I tend to preface any reply with, “It’s complicated.”

I try to move on from the challenges that being biracial brings, but I am very aware of how they influence every aspect of my life. I am the only person of colour doing my course at my college, and even then I don’t feel “qualified” to be the token PoC. I have men hitting on me in a fetishistic way once they find out I am mixed race, and social media is awful, with people calling me a “fake Asian” or a “white Jap.” My mother has been detained at the airport because they suspect her of child trafficking me into the UK. My ethnic and cultural identity affects every part of my life, but whilst there are significant challenges that I now just absorb into my daily behaviour, there are also a lot of very positive aspects to my heritage that I prefer to focus on.

My father’s family are descendants of the last Samurai. I am currently involved in the translation of an ancestral diary, despite my poor knowledge of Japanese language. Our surname is very unique, as it was given to us by one of the emperors of Japan. I recently got to visit the family grave site in Sendai, and it was a wonderful experience to honour that side of my cultural identity.

Because of my mixed heritage, I’ve had a unique childhood. I went to afternoon tea at the Ritz with my mother for Mother’s Day, and then a month later, was eating oyako donburi and curry pan in SoCal. I celebrate Japanese New Year, and I know how to roll sushi (although Japanese food in England is a bit limited). I eat spaghetti with ohashis, and love natto on cheeseburgers. I like embroidering the kanji for my surname on clothes, and bringing English tea to my Japanese-American relatives when I visit. To be frank, the mixture of British and American can often be more of a hurdle than British and Japanese!

I live in England, which means that I get a lot of British exposure, but it hasn’t stopped me from exploring the other sides to my identity. I don’t identify as wholly one thing or the other, because I’m not a box on a questionnaire. It’s been a long time coming, but I can happily say that I am happy just as I am. I spend a lot of my childhood trying to fit in – hiding my Hello Kitty shirts when friends came round, or trying to assert myself as a true Japanese-American to strangers in the Daiso. Now, I just embrace my non-belonging-ness. I’ll try to decode Japanese adverts I see online, but will end up shopping on a site that uses English. I’ll make myself fish finger butties, and drizzle a little shoyu on there for good measure.

The thing is, everyone goes on a journey of self-discovery when they are a young person. The only difference between me and Joe ’round the corner is that I don’t have a clear defining end point. And that’s okay, because maybe he doesn’t either. We are living in an ever-progressing world, and so whilst it’s been a hard time establishing who and what I am exactly, I get that it’s a process that never ends, and that for now, I am happy with who I am.

My identity is more than just my ethnic background. I barbecue on Christmas in the sleet, I have two black labradoodles that send me in circles. I like sewing clothes, and playing the piano. I love spending time with my friends, and I actually enjoy the pre-drinks more than the club itself. There is more to me than just my ethnicity. Whilst it influences every aspect of my life, it is not my sole defining feature. I am happy with who I am, and I hope that everyone else can find solace with their own identity, and to be happy simply being.

All my love to all the other Hapas out there, and everyone else as well.

My name is Quincy, and I’m a sixteen-year-old high school student born and raised in New South Wales, Australia.

My father is Burmese, my mother is white American, and they met through work in Thailand.

As I was scrolling through this website, despite being able to find similarities of most people to me, I found no trace of those with any Burmese heritage , and I wanted to make a representation of Burmese Hapas.

When I was younger, I wasn’t too fazed about my cultural background but was always aware of it. In school I’d be the “smart Asian kid” who was overly nice, and expectations were always high.

But people eventually seemed to question if there was more to me. In the past few years I’ve found myself explaining myself to people more and more and I thus realised how unique my heritage really was.

Going to America every two years since I was a baby to see family was always exciting, but going to Burma for the first time when I was thirteen to see what my father’s life was like before meeting my mother was an unforgettable experience. Now, after seeing both cultures, I seem to understand myself more. No longer would I say I’m half Burmese half American, not knowing what I was saying.

There was a time when I tried to teach myself the Burmese language when I was fifteen, but this has been put on hold for a while due to school and other obligations. Other than that, Burmese prayers with my father, turning on Buddha’s light in the study every night, eating Burmese food, taking shoes off before entering the house, gadaw (giving thanks to elders), reciting a Sanskrit chant before a meal, filling Buddha’s water, and receiving money in a red envelope are just a few customs I’ve had the opportunity to experience.

Difference in religion, educational views, and culture are the main challenges in the household. Outside the household, dealing with stereotypes, being questioned about my heritage, and identity crises are the main challenges.

Nonetheless, I am happy with who I am and wouldn’t change it! I’m a happy Hapa.

My name is Erika. I am half-Japanese and half-Filipina.

I have always been proud of being Japanese, but it took my moving almost 4,000 miles away from home to truly begin to embrace my Filipino heritage.

My former shame can be attributed to my upbringing in a pretty, but prejudiced place. This led to my self-identity being shaped by low-key racist micro-aggressions inflicted on Filipinos by other Asian groups. In my experience, too many “Do you eat dog?” jokes and frequent comments of my “tanner” skin color, received from mostly from local Japanese folks.

This negative, one-sided way of thinking about Filipino identity has even become internalized within its very own community. I, like many others, tried hard to distance myself from being associated with my Filipino ancestry, from using papaya soap to “naturally” bleach my skin to hiding behind my Japanese name. It felt good whenever I was mistaken for being full-Japanese.

Age 1 with my grandmas

For the first time, I am celebrating Filipino-American heritage month this year by cooking kare-kare (also for the first time ever) and committing myself to learning more about my rich cultural heritage and what being Filipina-American means to me.

My name is Ion, you can pronounce it eye-oh-in or eye-owen, I tend to pronounce each letter, but my father says it in two parts like the second pronunciation. I’m not really sure where the name comes from, my dad says he made it up and well, here I am. I was born in the states and raised in Northern California, in a small town called Arcata.

My father’s mother is Japanese, originally from Nagoya. When she was five years old she was adopted by a white family who would beat her if she spoke in her native language, the only other thing my dad has told me about her is that her real name is Michiko, not Judy. My grandma and my dad have never been close, so I’ve never really gotten the chance to get to know her, and when I have met her, asking about her/our heritage wasn’t a welcome conversation. My grandpa is Dutch and that is about all I know about him.

On my mother’s side, I have absolutely no idea. She left my dad and I when I was about a year old so she and I have never been close. It felt taboo on both sides to ask about “who” or “what” we are. It was difficult in a lot of different ways growing up knowing next to nothing about my heritage, ancestors, traditions etc. All I had was this fact that I am part Japanese.

The town I grew up in was predominantly white. In middle school I could count on one hand, possibly two, how many mixed or non-white kids went to my school. When I was younger I never even thought about people having different ethnic backgrounds, so when I was told “You look different” or “You look ethnic” or asked “What are you?” I was always super confused. When I started high school I was probably the most confused, everyone is figuring out who they are – I felt like I had twice as much to figure out. Where did I fit in?

I felt guilty at times even associating myself as mixed – am I really Japanese enough to consider myself Japanese? I don’t look all that Asian, just enough to be told I look a little “different.” I’ve experienced white privilege, but I’ve also experienced racial bias, slurs, and judgment for being part Japanese. I was embarrassed of my own awe and wonder of East Asian culture because of my lack of knowledge and experience of something I’ve always wanted to be apart of.

I was scared of being rejected by Japanese people because of my lack of knowledge, and because I’m only 1/4 Japanese. It was hard to find a place I fit into, there weren’t many people who understood where I was coming from, and I had no one to help connect me to this missing piece of myself because no one in my family ever wanted to talk about who we were. And I didn’t know any Japanese people.

Then the most amazing thing happened: I got older, became more independent, more confident with myself and more accepting of who I am, and I realized that the only person holding me back from learning more about who I am was none other than myself. So I moved.

I moved to Santa Cruz, and even though Santa Cruz is not the most diverse town, it’s almost four times bigger, and more diverse, than my hometown. I see Asian people daily, it’s amazing to me. People here ask “You’re part Japanese, aren’t you?” It made me cry the first week I moved here. I finally get to make friends with people who understand what it feels like being confused and almost guilty about considering yourself mixed. I can finally surround myself with people who I can learn from.

It’s one of the best feelings to finally accept yourself for who you are and have the determination and confidence to want to learn more about your own culture. It’s still hard at times but every day gets easier and easier. I remind myself daily that it’s okay not to know everything about Japanese culture and not to be embarrassed by that lack of knowledge, because everyday I am trying to learn how to embrace and honor that part of me.

Hi my name is Rebecca and I’m from Sweden and I have lived here my entire life. I’m half Swedish and half Chinese and my dad was the one of Chinese descent and he immigrated from Malaysia to Sweden as an adult but passed away when I was 2.

I have only been exposed to my Swedish side and don’t know much about my dad’s side and his relatives who lives in Malaysia. So sometimes it can feel a bit confusing when I’m aware that I’m part Chinese and look pretty Asian but have either grown up with the culture and language.

Even if I’m not part of two different cultures I think it’s interesting being Hapa because of the ambiguous appearance I got. While I lean more to my Chinese side in looks I’ve been mostly mistaken for Latina, Thai, Khazakstan, Filipina, Native American and Hawaiian. Some think I look fully Asian and some see something else. It all comes down how people perceive different features. My hair is also pretty thick, wavy and naturally dark brown and I think frizzy hair is a pretty common problem among Hapas. My hair used to be straight, black and thinner but the texture changed as I got older.

When I grew up as a child I didn’t think that much about my background and wasn’t aware of the words Eurasian and Hapa. It wasn’t until my teens I started to think about it more. I always thought I was half Malaysian because that was what I was told but found out that my dad was Chinese and that his nationality was Malaysian and not ethnicity. I confused these two a little.

Here in Sweden I have mostly felt like everyone else and mostly not being treated differently because of my looks. I haven’t had that much issues while growing up and the biggest problem has been people asking where I’m from and while it can be tiring sometimes, it’s not something I see as negative mostly. People are curious and will then ask and if it’s asked in a nice way I don’t mind :)

I’m Korean and sort of a Caucasian mutt. My Mom has South Korean and German ancestry, while my father has Polish, German, English, and French. My surname I’ve found is from England and my father says his family came from French Canadian roots.

I grew up saying, “I’m white and a quarter Korean,” or, “I’m half Korean, half white.” The struggle for me was mostly internal. I used to hang with the FOBs. But I couldn’t understand what they were saying, lol, so that felt kind of lonely. Then I would hang out with other groups and just be the “strange” white dude (because I was into a lot of Asian things, culture, food, movies, languages, habits). Eventually I developed a core group of outsiders that became tight because we all didn’t fit into the “cliques.”

Now, outwardly, I think my inability to get ethnically guessed was a benefit, I never got picked on racially because they couldn’t figure me out, lol. I got asked if I was from Bolivia, Iran, Some kind of Asian, or a lot just assumed I was full white. But I always felt kind of out of the loop from my heritage I guess. My mother didn’t raise me with Korean food or traditions in the household. So everything I know is because of my own interest.

I love Korean food, and when I had my daughter we did a 100 days celebration for her and I plan to have a traditional Korean wedding fused into my ceremony, lol. I used to see people who I could definitely tell were Hapas and I’d point to my friends or family and say, “Hey look, it’s one of my halfblood brothers.” lol. I’ve never searched to see if there was some kind of community for us until now, I had just assumed there wasn’t. But, this is pretty cool, I hope I can find some kind of meet up group near D.C. so I can meet my newfound peoples, lol.

Hello! My name is Alexus and I am Mexican and Taiwanese. I am extremely Californian—I grew up in Southern California and go to UC Berkeley; my parents, both immigrants, met at LAX; I can list almost every boba place in the 626 area code and could lead a tour through South Central for amazing tacos.

Anyway, I speak, read, and write a good amount of Spanish and Chinese, which I know I’m pretty lucky to have grown up with both. I’m also pretty lucky to have grown up in a place where I could actually surround myself with many other Hapa friends, and join a number of social advocacy groups for us mixed people!

I know a lot of us still feel like an odd duck even in Hapa groups, me included. I’ve only met one other Hapa who had any Mexican in them, and I want to show the world there are more of us. It seems like a lot of us can say we align more with one of our backgrounds, but I feel like everyone who really knows me is surprised with how well I’ve invested myself in both Taiwanese and Mexican culture. All my life people had been telling me to “choose a side,” but I know I should be so proud to be able to claim both.

(When I was a kid, I scoured the internet for pictures of what Mexican/Taiwanese people looked like… obviously if there’s so much diversity in those countries alone I would never find out, but I was so curious! I looked nothing like how I felt I looked as a baby!)

Hi, I’m Ida and I’m 33 and live in Norway. I was adopted from South Korea when I was three months old.

Very little is known of my biological mom, other than that she was around 20 when she got pregnant with me. From what I’ve heard, my father was 23 at the time and being young students, they didn’t want to marry each other and so my mother couldn’t take care of me.

I was always curious as a child about where I came from. I knew I was Korean, but I always asked if there were any other countries I had in my blood, seeing how my school mates always seemed to know where they came from and how their parents looked, how their grandparents looked and so on.

Throughout my life, I’ve often been asked about where I’m from. While I didn’t feel any less Norwegian growing up, that did change as I became a teenager and young adult.

Until I took a DNA test, I had assumed I was 100% Korean, since I have a very Korean look. But I was wrong. The test results showed 47.6% Japanese/Korean, 46.4% Chinese/Vietnamese, and 4.8% Central Asian.

Finally, I obviously am 1.2% Finnish. And that’s cool and shocking at the same time; I always felt close to Finland, I visit often and consider it a second home. I’m also teaching myself the Finnish language, I enjoy cooking Finnish food, and I love sauna.

Because I didn’t ever get to know my Korean heritage, I never felt close to it. I feel my heart belongs in Norway and Finland, though I’m proud to be a mix of Asian and Finnish (the Finno-Ugrian people are loosely related to the Siberans and East Asians after all). :)