on living like a chameleon
navigating the confusion of growing up mixed and how to assert the identity that feels most true to one
For a large part of my life, I struggled to show my authentic self. I used my social sensitivity to detect what others expected of me and, like a chameleon, I mimicked them, blended in. I tried not to draw attention, to be invisible, to hide myself. And while adapting to others can certainly be a valuable skill, in my case, it meant I adapted so much that there was no real me — no sense of self, no sense of identity.
Beneath it all was a deep desire to belong. For I never felt like I did. I carried this deep-rooted belief that I was weird, not normal, and that others hopefully never uncover how strange I am. That fear is a common part of childhood — we all want to be normal, we want to fit in and not be the odd one out. But for those who grow up as minorities or looking different, these feelings often run deeper.
am I different?
I was born in Germany to a German mother and a Turkish father. In my early childhood, I never gave any thought to my ethnicity or my mixed background. For years, I had no clue I was “different” — or rather, that I was perceived as different. I had the naive colorblindness of an early childhood. Like many kids, I didn’t even think about what I was supposed to look like or if I or anyone else looked different. My parents didn’t have a sit-down to discuss it either. They didn’t prepare me for the fact that it wouldn’t matter how I identified myself — that my distinct outer experience, my Turkish name, would lead to a certain labeling and a set of connected stereotypes. They didn’t prepare me on how to navigate the confusion that comes with being mixed. I don’t blame them at all — they certainly did their best. It’s a common experience for mixed kids not to have in-depth discussions with their parents about these upcoming struggles. “A high percentage of interracial couples have no idea what the experience is like for the child they brought into the world”.
stereotype threat
After realising that I might be (perceived as) different, I learned how to code-switch and how to transform into a chameleon. This chameleon mode worked in both directions. Around white German folks, I tried to conform by emphasising my German-ness, subtly proving that I was “one of the good ones”, that I was successfully integrated. I would showcase my intellect and articulate speech as a response to stereotype threat.
I feared they might assume German wasn’t my mother tongue and that my level of education was low. “Just another stupid foreigner.” Of course, this stereotype threat didn’t come out of nowhere. I’ve lost count of how many times white Germans expressed surprise at my language skills: “Wow, your German is really good!” — smh, what else did you expect from someone born and raised here?
the narrow-mindedness of “embracing one’s heritage”
The Turkish/Muslim/PoC version of the chameleon looked different. To find belonging among folks who looked like me and faced similar discrimination, I had to switch it up and not act too German. Within the Turkish/Muslim diaspora in Germany, there is even a slang term for people who fit the stereotypical image of a German: Alman. You’re a real Alman if you’re stingy with money, overly correct/rule-abiding, or take everything way too seriously. I guess stereotype threat is real for the dominant culture, too.
For me, it meant not feeling like I belonged to either group. Too Turkish for German ppl, too German for Turkish ppl. Welcome to the experience of growing up mixed — facing rejection from both sides. A bunch of Turkish folks in Germany take immense pride in their culture, language, religion, etc. — understandably so, as a response to being othered in a dominant culture. But if you don’t fit into that mould, you quickly become a disappointment. Suddenly, you’re accused of not embracing your heritage “enough”.
Meanwhile, the definition of what “embracing one’s heritage” means is suffocatingly narrow: You do this and don’t do that. One silly example, I am a passionate cyclist and over the years I received so much shaming from my peers for the simple fact that I like to ride my bicycle and that I don’t like cars — can you believe it lol.
feeling like an impostor
In this Vox article, Filipino-American Kristina shares her experience of growing up mixed, which I can very much relate to (especially the “I don’t care anymore” part):
I identify proudly as a multiracial woman and as a woman of color. This is because the world sees me as a woman of color. I’ve never been perceived as a white woman.
I only recently became confident that I could just, in some circumstances, say “I’m Filipino.” I don’t always have to qualify the basis of my identity to everybody. That is very new for me because people always felt the need to say, “You’re only half,” or remind me that I’m also white. But as I’ve gotten older, and just with more recent conversations about race, I’ve come to realize that I don’t care anymore. I am Filipino, I am white. I don’t always have to say all of my mixed percentages to everybody.
When I was younger, I would always qualify everything by saying, “I am half white.” I didn’t want people to think I was trying to co-opt any identities or infringe on anyone’s spaces. In college, friends would take me to Filipino student group meetings, and I just always felt like an imposter, like I didn’t have a right to be there. I don’t know if that’s true or not to this day. I still don’t quite know my place sometimes.
I still struggle with claiming my Turkish/non-white heritage, too. I can fully relate to feeling like an impostor unless I clarify that I’m “only half-this, half-that”. But like Kristina states: the world sees me as a person of color, I’ve rarely been perceived as a white/German person. So I am allowed to claim this part of my identity. Not having to list all of one’s mixed percentages to everybody. In my experience, people are often not content if you give them ambiguous answers about one’s heritage. They want to know the exact composition, they want to know the reason why you look the way you look.
you can be many
Having a multiethnic background can create confusion for one’s identity. Studies show that mixed people often feel pressured to “choose” a side. As in: you can’t be both. You can’t be many. We have to squeeze you into a neat little box. Of course, being othered can be frustrating. But writer Jessica Machado points out that there’s also a strange power in ambiguity, for those seconds that someone is eying you, confused and unsure, you have defied their parameters of race. A subtle reminder that race is a social construct — while acknowledging each other’s complex identities.
We all have a right to have a fluid identity — not just mixed people or PoCs. Likewise, I feel most at ease around people, who genuinely don’t care how I look/where I am from. Where I’m able to forget all this identity confusion. We universally struggle with constricting notions of what we should be like. There is something deeply empowering about finding and owning your authenticity. About liberating yourself of societal expectations and roles. You can be whatever you want. You can be many. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
asserting the identity that feels most true to us
In this Archer article J’Nae Phillips remarks, that “many of us are growing tired of constantly being on the defensive; instead, we’re asserting the identities that feel most true, rather than simply accepting what society has assigned us”. This empowering perspective is especially true for mixed people, but again: it is universally true. We all should assert the identity that feels most true to us. Freeing ourselves of social norms and establishing non-conforming ways of being. If other people don’t like your true and unique self, it’s their problem, their loss.
“The privilege of a lifetime is to become who you truly are.” - Carl Jung
recommendations:
Please go watch this wonderful documentary by W. Kamau Bell, interviewing mixed children in the Bay Area about their experiences, they all gave such heartwarming and profound answers — the kids are definitely alright.
One of the questions I found really helpful: "When do you stop thinking about your identity or how you are perceived? What is different in those moments?”
The Ten Percent Happier podcast by Dan Harris is always a delight, but this episode especially. I learned a new acronym FOPO (Fear of Other People's Opinion) and how it holds us back. This episode sharpened my FOPO-radar and in what way it’s stopping me from doing stuff I would genuinely love to do out of fear of being judged. How silly is that?