I lived on Long Island and was in 3rd or 4th grade. I was invited to a friend’s house to play and right before I entered the door, the dad stuck his leg out and blocked me from coming in.

He bent down and looked squared in the eye and asked “Where you from, kid?”

Ummm… “Taiwan, sir”

He quickly smiled and said “alright, I did some RNR there. You good people”.

I later found out that he doesn’t let anyone from Vietnam in the house.

I’m a person of colour who has a white step parent and has grown up in Canada in a fairly mixed area.

My family history would have started in India but my parents were born in South America and migrated up to North America (both Canada and the US) where my sister and I were born. I grew up “white.” My voice, appearance and behaviour are “white.” I was born and raised Canadian. I’m far from proud of this country where I have spent my life but I will identify myself as a Canadian. My family history had been thoroughly white washed and erased.

I say all this because for all this history I have behind me, it means nothing to most people.

The majority of Indian people here will look at me one way until I speak and then promptly ignore me because I’m not “Indian.”

West Indian people want to be my best friend until they find out I’ve never visited any West Indian country. Then I’ll be treated as an idiot for not embracing a culture I have no real knowledge of and have not been immersed in.

Then there are the white people… No matter how white I act, I will never be “white” enough. I’ll always be the colour of my skin. I could look, act and behave as awful as a white cop and still not be on the same level.

In fact, I have a “friend” who is a cop. He’s not really my friend, more of an acquaintance I’ve known for 10+ years through another more decent friend. This guy is just fucking awful and every molecule in his body is racist and vile. He looks at me, arms full of tattoos and tells me I’d be a perfect “UC.” Undercover Cop. My only value to him is to be used to incriminate fellow people of colour. I’m just not a person or anything close to equal. Always something less.

I’ve never really had a place where I felt I belonged while growing up. Hated for being me from multiple angles for reasons beyond my control while doing nothing harmful to anyone. There are good people out there who treat me as a person first but they are few and far between.

Another quick story, I once had a Dutch guy in Australia tell me that his last name Hoffmeister means “House Master.” You know, from the times when they used to own slaves. Thanks for telling me that to my face, you absolute weirdo.

Everywhere I go they ask me where I am from , when I tell country of my birth and whwre I was raised, they say but what is your origin? They want to hear the nationality of my parent because my skin does not look white enough, THIS IS THE SITUATION IN FRANCE, even if you are fluent in French but does not look white they will ask you whats your origin. FU K EM

I was taking a walk last week and a car of white guys screamed “N*gger” at me, so that was fun. And have been to Japan, which was racism on steroids (for black people anyway).

I’ll start by saying my skin is really pale. Like, ginger “burn after 5 minutes in the sun”-white. Thus I don’t personally experience racism often (although of course I do notice it around me a lot, because fuck are there many racists), nor do I think it’s even comparable to how bad it is for other people. But this one time caught me so off guard, because this woman actually thought she was giving me a compliment and she had no idea how fucked up it sounded.

One of my parents is white, the other is mixed. That side of the family has roots in Suriname. When I told one of my colleagues about it, she told me “wow, then you really got lucky with your skin color!” Like wtf? And here I am, always jealous of my sibling, who can actually walk in the sun without burning up like a vampire.

I often wondered if I was making too big a deal out of it, because it pissed me off. I called her a racist and never talked to her again. Luckily I don’t work with her anymore.

I am white looking, but my parents are Jewish and Japanese. Basically every time I tell someone I’m Jewish (culturally, I am an atheist nowadays) it completely changes how people interact with me. The best I can hope for is being the “token Jewish friend” most of the time, but I’ve been treated to racial slurs and even physical violence. In middle school, the rich son of the local pastor called me a kike and I broke his nose for it. I was suspended from school and he was treated like a victim. Looking back on it, that might have been the beginning of my radicalization.

Been called a ch*nk multiple times by random people in public, been told as a child that I should be performing better in school because of the “type of person” that I am, been called a dog-eater by peers, asked “what’s your real name” (even though my government name is an English one), etc.

One time someone called me a ch*nk, I explained that despite them being shitty for thinking that’s okay, that I’m not even Chinese, so they must be extra braindead. I also said that it must be disappointing to know less of the English language than a non-white person, and that if a white person like them can’t learn proper English, then they’re failing their own expectations of what it means to be American. I suppose hearing me say that in perfect American English was enough for them to realize how dumb they were being. Everyone in the room glared at them and they shut the fuck up and left lmao.

In Australia.

“Got a spare smoke there, bro?”

“No, mate. Sorry.”

“FUCK YOU, YA WHITE CUNT!”

I’ve had this word-for-word interaction probably 100 times this year already.

My dad worked down in Georgia on a nuke plant for a spell. Being from Pennsylvania he always said while the West was 10 years ahead of us, the South was at least 10 years behind.

Anyways to exemplify this, he was the only white guy on the job site to associate with the black man, sitting with him on the bus and playing chess with him. My dad said he never once won a game against that man.

The good old boys didn’t like this and would give my dad a lot of shit, referring to him as the damn Yankee and even carving the shit into bathroom stalls. My dad was always something of a scrapper with a pretty keen sense of justice and so one time in the break room following more comments about his northern roots he shot back, “we beat you once we’ll beat you again.”

My ex accused me of “muddying his bloodline” when he got radicalized, because I didn’t pop out Aryan children. They came out assorted but all were “white”, certainly by local standards (how creepy it feels typing that, ick) but by the nonsense he’d absorbed on Stormfront, he (retroactively) expected me to have popped out a string of wee blonde angels.

Other than that, I was the beneficiary of some crazy racism once, got AAA to come tow my car in 4 minutes flat once when I gave the address and the dude thought he was rescuing me from a warzone, because it was in a black neighborhood (we don’t have the sharp geographic divisions seen up north but do have blocks and areas that are economically distinct and historically black or white). Usual time for AAA was more like 4 hours.

Worst to me was my scumbag mind’s determination to see a man as rough and violent because of his looks, a guy who became a good friend and isn’t at all like that, just because his looks are like an actor playing an abusive black dad. Seeing this in myself (I didn’t lay it on him, but my own mind got it so wrong) was unsettling.