When Asian girl meets white boy. I am a Chinese girl dating a blond, blue-eyed, German-blooded man born and raised in North Dakota to a baseball-obsessed, Baptist, Republican family.
In terms of cultural background, David and I couldn’t be more different. I grew up as a missionary kid in Singapore; David grew up in a middle-class suburban home with a pool in the Midwest. My omma served me homemade kimchi and chili-laden noodles; he dined on Cap’n Crunch and Mom’s buttered knepfle and can’t eat anything mildly spicy without hyperventilating. I watched Korean dramas and practiced taekwondo; he watched DuckTales and chowed pretzels at baseball stadiums and air-guitared to Blink-182. But still, we somehow clicked. And now, more than two years later, we’re discussing marriage.
The fact that David happens to be white didn’t bother me ... at least, not until I started receiving comments whenever I mentioned that David’s previous girlfriend was also Korean American. “Oh, I see. He’s got yellow fever,” one friend remarked. Another friend said, “Well, he’s obviously got a type.” Yet another acquaintance said, “Yeah, you’re the type white boys will go for.” These reactions all came from fellow Asian folks.
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