RACISTS BEWARE

Being biracial, racism is a bit contrary to my nature.  However, I have seen that other beings exist who don’t share my views.  I suppose I am biased, but I like to think that my white half and Asian half are worthy of each other.  Unfortunately, I’ve met both whites and  Asians who don’t think so, some of them my relations.

But this isn’t about my relations, not at all.  This is about a fine specimen of humanity at the hospital where I volunteer.  Now, I’m used to people asking if I’m Chinese or Japanese and saying, No I’m half Korean, with a smile.  I know that going to restaurants, people will expect me to in a flash know Thai, Vietnamese, Chinese, and Korean.  I don’t even know Korean. Nor does my mom, though she was born there.  But I digress.

I was walking around with Hector, who was, unlike me, pure one and a half generation Korean.  He had a slight accent, and took Asian stereotyping very seriously, though he fit most of them with his studious habits, thick black hair, glasses and pale skin.  He had an appreciation for eighties funk though, which ruined the whole image.

Anyway, this fifty year old leprechaun of a man sat there with his ailing wife, staring at us.  I could see his glinting dark eyes follow us as we began cleaning a bed nearby.  Hector didn’t notice.  

I passed the leprechaun to throw away some disinfecting wipes.  He giggled and said,

“Hi.”  I stared at him, and not knowing what else to do, smiled.

“Hello.”  He seemed to think that this was funny, which I didn’t understand, until he put his fist and open palm together and bowed to me kung-fu movie style.   

I would tell you that I smashed his head in, but that might be a slight exaggeration.  In reality, I did nothing, because as far as I could tell, there was nothing to do.  I thought it was funny--couldn’t the idiot tell from my light hair that I wasn’t full Asian?  As I returned to the bed I heard him mutter,

“Ching chong ding dong way--hiya.”  I glanced back at him.  He giggled to himself.  

Hector had a tense expression, so I assumed he had heard.  When we walked away, however, and I said, “Can you believe him?” Hector frowned.  

“What?”  I told him what happened, wondering how he could have missed it.  Hector stopped.

“He did what?”  He bugged his eyes out.

“He was just goofing around, you saw him--”

“I didn’t see anything.  You should confront him. You don’t have to take that you know.  That’s not part of the job description. They can’t abuse us like that.”  Hector began shaking his finger, as if I were the one bowing to him.

“Well it’s too late now.”  Luckily, Dr. Fernandez had just gone into the room where the leprechaun-man was. Shaking his head Hector narrowed his eyes and snorted.

“People are so ignorant.  Unbelievable. Who does he think he is?  Some white guy imperialist type.  If he says anything else, I’m not holding back.”  I smiled, alarmed as Hector muttered to himself.  Hector was generally a reasonable guy, but apparently, this wasn’t one of those times.  I really didn't see what the big deal was. The man was obviously detached from reality.

I was thinking how easily offended people were, and how high strung Hector was when the doctor came storming out.  He put his clipboard on the desk and said,

“He asked if I was a chink?  Can you believe it?  Just because I’m a doctor he thinks I must be Asian.  I’m Mexican.  Who the hell says chink anymore anyways?” the doctor continued streaming irritation for a good five minutes.  I stared in amazement as Hector nodded in approval and Dr. Fernandez slammed his clipboard around on the desk.

Luckily for the man’s sake, his wife soon left the hospital.  If he had stayed much longer, there might have been need for an extra bed in the ER.  Dr. Fernandez and Hector both glared as he walked out, bouncing and grinning as if he had successfully stolen a lollipop.  In the door he turned and gave another little bow before skipping out. I swear Hector growled.

The world is becoming a dangerous place for such fossils.