Personal Narrative: Personal Identity

As an American-born Chinese, I am in a difficult situation. I am American by nationality and Chinese by ethnicity, but combine the two and the lines become blurred. Ever since I’ve started learning Mandarin, I have become more aware of how displaced I am. When people see me they will question where I’m from. I reply with “Chicago” but there’s always the follow up question of “No, where are you REALLY from?” Before I started school, my reply would always be “Chicago! I was born and raised here!” They would then proceed to ask, “But where are your parents from?” Ask a Caucasian person the same question, and there will be a higher chance of them not being further questioned about their origins. I understand that some people are just curious about others’ ethnicities and that’s perfectly fine with me. It’s just the way the question is presented that irks me and makes feel like an outcast.
I was walking with a group of friends in downtown when suddenly a passerby made a comment that has since been engraved in my mind. He didn’t stop and make a scene, but the words he thought he uttered softly rang loud and clear in my ears. Those very words were, “Hey look it’s the kids from China. Go back.” Being in a high school that is very diverse, racial discrimination had not been an issue for me. While I do acknowledge that it does exist, I had never personally witnessed it until that