I had never considered what a mixed-Asian essay that I wrote for other mixed-Asian people might look like. Or, rather, what a mixed-white essay that I wrote for other mixed-white people might look like. And when I tried to think of one, I was afraid I didn’t quite have anything new to say, so I decided it was easier to write about anything, everything, but my race. And yet—this essay is a spoiler in itself—I have never stopped thinking about my mixed race. My race, or rather my preoccupation with what it means and how I should feel about it, is something that may rankle me for the rest of my
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