Blasian Mom Background

Welcome, my fellow Mixed Asian Mommies!

I decided to use this blog as a way to vent my feelings on motherhood...
Being a product of two distinctly different minority parents, I find I'm shaped into the woman I am today because of lessons learned observing and participating in these two cultures.

My mother is South Korean.  My father is predominantly Black American. 

 I do not use the term African American to describe myself or other Black people because I do not relate to "African" culture.  Africa is made up of so many nations, tribes, cultures and backgrounds, that it is the farthest thing from accurate to associate myself with this complex group of people.  I do acknowledge my father's ancestry can be traced back to Africa, but so can a lot of non-Black people's... and they surely don't go around calling themselves African American.  So I do not either.  I prefer "Black" or "Black American" because that is how I think of myself, a person of color who identifies with the culture of Black people born and raised for generations in the USA.  Again, let's not confuse terming Black people with a word that is a description of their culture, not necessarily their skin color. There are no "black" people, as most of us are shades of brown and yellow or some mixture.

Model, Tyson Beckford: 50% Jamaican, 25% Panamanian, 25% Chinese

I consider myself to be a one-point-fiver (1.5er), meaning I'm in between the 1st generation Korean adult immigrants and the 2nd generation Koreans who were born in the USA ( but retain much of their culture). 1.5ers are those of us who moved here at an age when we could still remember much of our time in Korea and had to assimilate into American life.

 My family permanently moved to America when I was around 8 years old.  I was stuck between two worlds because I spoke fluent Korean, thought in Korean and behaved Korean... while all around me were people that had physical traits that resembled mine more so than the Koreans "back home".  Though I was used to the Korean way of life, I was picked on and bullied a lot by the fair yellow Korean children who thought my unusual skin color gave them good reason to taunt me.




Me approx. age 7 (In Korea)

 Coming to America was a culture shock; nothing like the stories I was told by my father, nothing like what I saw in the movies. I saw violence, severe racism, poverty, fear and a very unsafe environment for young children.  In Korea, at 6 or 7 years old, it was not unusual for parents and guardians to let children roam the village and neighborhoods for hours and expect them back at lunch and supper time unharmed.  Half the time, we'd make new friends on our excursions and didn't need to introduce them or their parents to our own.  People were just trusting. The whole neighborhood was full of watchful eyes that peeked through windows, over rooftops, through walls and stone gates to ensure the safety of the children playing nearby.  Even teenagers hanging out with peers could be counted on to observe the village kiddies playing safely in the woods or on the hills.

But once we moved to America, all that changed.  We weren't even allowed to sit unattended on our front stoop.  Any passer-by whose eye contact lingered too long, our father was quick to warn us not to smile at  or answer back.  This was strange advice to me, as I was used to the Asian way. If an elder spoke to you, you politely spoke back. It was considered extremely rude to ignore any adult that approached or greeted you.


my daddy, in Korea

These differences were the start of a world of strangeness for me. I went into a slight depression, becoming an introvert (not my true nature), conversing only with my immediate family, preferring to speak Korean to my sister and mom and hardly speaking at all in English. I was picked on at school where the student body was mostly black.  The kids told me I talked "funny", some said I spoke like a "white girl".  This was bizarre to me as I wasn't aware of the underlying animosity between the black and white race in the USA. In Korea, foreigners were so glad to see another English speaker, most didn't care what  color you were. And I'm sure that feeling like an outsider amongst the Koreans did wonders to unite all non-Koreans.  Black or White, Indian or German... if you spoke a common language, foreigners were quick to make friends.  But in the States, the mere fact that my English didn't sound "ghetto" enough seemed to be good reason for my classmates to laugh at me. 

In losing all confidence, I didn't hesitate to shut myself off from others. I stayed on the sidelines, watching and listening until I was able to mimic the tone, vernacular and attitude of whatever cultural group I was around at the time. I was a chameleon of accents.  My exotic features helped me to blend in with almost any ethnic group... even white people seemed oblivious to my non-whiteness as I could speak proper English and most of them believed I was half white or definitely NOT black. 

As I have stated, race, racism, culture and ethnicity has played a major role in my life since childhood. When my father died within a year of our big move, my mother was forced to raise me with no help from family or friends in a country that seemed to have very little opportunity for her. She is educated with a B.A. in Fine Arts from a reputable university in Korea.  Her family is well off and she was legally a citizen long before my father's death. But all that seemed to contribute nothing to her outlook here. With two small girls to feed and care for, she struggled to no end to make it work for us... and we hit a lot of road blocks along the way.


My Mom (in yellow) & my 2 aunts (Korea)

One good thing I gained from those years, is being forced to translate for my mother whenever she hauled me into an office to meet with agents, reps or officials for some benefit or aid. I was so embarrassed back then. But at age 27, I have yet to run into many half Korean and black people who speak fluent Korean, in addition to reading and writing the language. Not only that, my mother was able to teach me a lot about my culture because she had no one else to speak her language to. I would not have gained so much knowledge if I had to rely on her broken English for guidance.  Thankfully, she can articulate herself to me in her native tongue.  It's great to shock full Koreans who see me and have no inclination that I can understand them or respond in Korean, no accent, no stuttering and in the correct form of "politeness" required.

What really inspired me to write this stuff is this thought that occurred to me; We Blasians truly are a minority within a minority. 

Amerie (Recording Artist) 1/2 Back & 1/2 Korean

Who do we relate to? Who accepts us? What groups do we belong to?  We're not Asian enough or Black enough, or American enough.  People have so many unfair expectations of us just because of the way we look.  When we find mates, there are so many complications that come with how they view us... especially Blasian women who are very sexualized thanks to rap music videos of the 2000's.  We're pretty much a trend in most people's eyes, and nothing more.

I strongly feel that there needs to be a way for us to connect better. Not compete. Especially once we become parents. It's hard enough trying to pass down the right morals and teachings to our children. Then add the pressure of explaining to them the importance of embracing both sides of their ethnicities, even if this means relating to a race that you don't necessarily see reflected in the mirror. 


Kimora Lee (Model) as a teen

 My goal as a Blasian mother is to give my children everything I gained inadvertently from having parents of two cultures... as well as a sense of confidence and self worth I did not gain until I was dang near an adult.  I want them to be proud of their heritage, not denying one over the other. I want them to speak their languages well, both English and Korean.  I don't want them to let anyone take away from them what is truly theirs, even if they are 25% Korean and some will try to belittle that.


Kimora Lee (Model) 1/2 Korean & Black

So here begins my chronicles of Blasian Motherhood; the struggles, the joys, the confusion, the concerns, the break-throughs, the experiments, the love and the insanity of raising well rounded, quarter-Korean offspring.

Gypsie Doll (aka Gypsie Koreana) ME!

I hope my readers will learn with me and take away something useful from this blog.
Kimchee and Chicken Wings!
Gypsie


Check Out My Blog On Music! Here

Click to See My Articles & Songs!

Check out My YouTube Vlogs on my Channel:  gypsieshow

Follow me @gypsiekoreana