Multiracial white privilege is real

Sometimes, being able to “pass” is more salient than our actual racial makeup.

By EMI GUZMAN
(Audrey Schreck / Daily Trojan)

I am a multiracial person. I am Asian, Latina and white. Like many other multiracial folks, I have experienced a lifelong struggle with feeling like I do not truly belong to any single racial or ethnic group.

At the core of my racial experience lies a dissonance between how others perceive me and how I perceive myself. Nobody knows the full breadth of my experience unless I offer an explanation, because I appear racially ambiguous. 

When thinking about my racial experiences, it can be easier to lean into feelings of otherness, than to confront my white privilege. I often recount the backhanded statements of approval that I receive from Asian folks, “You’re surprisingly cultured for a Wasian.” Or the time that a friend in high school told me, “You can’t come to the Latine award ceremony, you’re too white.”


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Experiences like this have made me feel like my whiteness overshadows other parts of my racial identity. Yet, at the same time, I don’t feel like I truly fit into white spaces, either.

However, as multiracial white folks, we cannot reduce our racial experiences to the frustration of otherness alone. These feelings are valid, but they exist alongside undeniable advantages of being white, and the responsibility to own our whiteness.

For multiracial people, our proximity to whiteness can define the way that we are treated by others. 

On her continuing education website, mental health educator Ruby Blow discusses the benefits of being proximate to whiteness.

“The lighter one’s skin tone is or the more proximate it is to whiteness, the more generally positive attributes or biases are assumed toward you. More proximity to whiteness includes the presumption of competence, intelligence, attractiveness and friendliness,” Blow says.

My whiteness makes it easier for me to navigate white-dominated spaces, such as academia, compared to my peers who are Black, Indigenous and people of color. Given the significant advantages that whiteness grants us, it’s crucial for us multiracial white folks to discuss white privilege in conversations about racial identity.

A small part of me dies every time an ambiguous, multiracial white celebrity defaults to the topic of rejection frustration without acknowledging their white privilege.

When “Crazy Rich Asians” (2018) hit the box office, lead actor Henry Golding received backlash from many of the original book’s fans, accusing Golding of not being “Asian enough” for the role due to being half Malaysian and half white.

The actor addressed sentiments about his casting in an interview with Bustle. 

“If we’re leaning towards [more] Asian representation, we should be supporting rather than nitpicking,” Golding said. “Just because I’m not full Asian doesn’t mean I can’t own my Asianness. And I relate so much more with my Asian side.”

Henry — maybe Asian folks were mad about your role in “Crazy Rich Asians” because whiter Asians tend to take up space in the media. Nobody should take your Asianness away from you, but colorism is a thing that may benefit you. 

During conversations like this, we must be better at acknowledging our white privilege. However, the privileges of appearing ambiguous and whiter do not diminish the marginalization experienced by multiracial people. 

In a room full of white people, my hooded eyelids and high cheekbones mark me as different. My otherness was especially magnified during my early childhood, when I lived in a predominantly white community. My memories of this time are marked with microaggressions like, “You can’t be Cinderella for Halloween,; you should be Mulan.”

Racist experiences are especially possible for multiracial people perceived as any percentage Black. “[Meghan] Markle’s proximity to whiteness couldn’t save her from the royal family’s commitment to anti-Blackness. What got her into the family (her “acceptable” Blackness and beauty) is also the reason she was forced out of it,” read a Refinery 29 article.

Markle is half Black and half white and says that she was always treated as a mixed woman, not a Black woman, until she started to date Prince Harry, a member of the British royal family.

For multiracial white people, privilege and marginalization coexist. In conversations about race, it is essential that we acknowledge the privileges related to our whiteness while still validating the challenges of multiracialism, colorism and anti-Blackness. By being more forthcoming about our whiteness, we can create a nuanced perspective on racial experiences, ultimately building stronger racial solidarity.

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