Embracing Biracial Identity: A Wasian Experience

Growing up in Australia, I learnt very quickly that it was unusual to be biracial.

Throughout my childhood, I went to a majority-Asian-population school. Being Asian was normal there, but being white felt normal everywhere else.

But for me, being both was neither.

I constantly fielded questions about my name and appearance. Having a Vietnamese mother and a British father seemed to easily confuse a lot of people.

It wasn't until adulthood that I fully embraced my cultural heritage and found the joy in being Asian and white.

It took even longer to realise that I was also experiencing a third thing: being both.

Being biracial or "wasian" (that is, both white and Asian) is a unique experience. There are lots of things I share with both Asian and white people, but there are experiences novel to being wasian.

I've been told multiple times by some people that I'm too white to be Asian and by others that I'm too Asian to be white.

For a long time, I felt rejected by both communities.

The impact of Laufey's Madwoman

Recently, Icelandic-Chinese singer Laufey assembled a cast of fellow wasians — including Heated Rivalry actor Hudson Williams, Olympic gold medallist figure skater Alysa Liu, KATSEYE member Megan Skiendiel and The Summer I Turned Pretty actress Lola Tung — to star in the music video for her latest song, Madwoman.

As soon as the video came out, criticism swiftly followed. It was exactly what I'd heard when I was younger, as people online accused wasians of not being "real" Asians.

Wasians are everywhere, apparently. It's the "real" Asians who need representation.

Once again, I was hurt by the idea I'm not a "real" Asian because I only have one Asian parent.

But now that I'm older, I'm confident in who I am. I'm one person. It's not possible for me to be "half" anything.

I am Asian. End of story.

If being white and being Asian are two circles in a Venn diagram, I am both sides and the centre.

A global superstar like Laufey using her platform to actively celebrate her cultural heritage makes me proud to be in the centre of that Venn diagram. I don't care if it confuses other people.

This is who I am.

A girl in a pink dress

This wasn't the first time Laufey inspired me to embrace who I am.

A couple of years ago, I was mindlessly scrolling online when I came across a video of Laufey on the red carpet at the Grammy Awards.

She was wearing a light pink Chanel dress, soft glowy pink make-up and her long dark brown hair fell in styled waves down her back.

I looked at the video and immediately thought, "Oh my God, that's me!"

Obviously, I'm not a Grammy Award-winning artist. But as I watched the video, lying in bed with my bleach-blonde hair, I suddenly felt a pull to look like myself again.

Seeing the image of Laufey reminded me of my younger self: a girl in a pink dress, soft make-up and long curled dark brown hair.

Any desire to dye my hair blonde evaporated in an instant. I felt convinced that nothing would make me happier.

I unpacked that feeling. It wasn't that I hated the blonde. The blonde had been fun. I didn't regret dying my hair. But I was overcome with the urge to return to what I knew was my true self.

I never dyed my hair blonde again. Once I'd seen that video of Laufey, my mind was made up: I felt proud of what I looked like. What I had always looked like. I wanted my natural colour back.

A few months later, when I told some of my female Asian friends that I was growing out the blonde in my hair, many expressed that they had been on a similar journey.

One joked that it was a "canon event" for Asian women: to give in to the Western standard of beautiful, blonde hair, only to return to your roots and grow it out again.

Even if I felt lacking in biracial representation during my teenage years, I'm glad that someone like Laufey is championing her cultural heritage today.

Just as Laufey made Madwoman for her younger self, I hope that my younger self would be proud of the person I've grown into.

Julia Faragher is an artist and writer living in Melbourne/Naarm.