https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=15dejlEUqDM

I fell in love in a 7/11 parking lot

Sat on the curb drinking Slurpees we mixed with alcohol

We talked about all our dreams and how we would show ’em all

—

The first time I heard Bonnie McKee’s “American Girl” was probably sometime in my sophomore year of high school. Fresh out of the pool from a water polo game, blood pumping, and cheeks red from the best kind of exhaustion there is. I never once thought of myself as un-American. I was born and raised in sunny southern California– west coast-best coast. I could name for you all the UC schools (Merced, Davis, Santa Cruz, Riverside, Santa Barbara, Irvine, San Diego, Los Angeles, Berkeley, in that order), give you directions using “the” before highways– the five, the four-oh-five, the ninety five, or just show you my birth certificate. It’ll say it right at the top “State of C-A-L-I-F-O-R-N-I-A.” So why is it when I heard Hasan Minhaj’s bit on his stand-up comedy special, Homecoming King, that I felt like I could relate so much?

I want to work in government. For all it’s flaws and strengths, I love American politics. There is nothing more messy, more corrupt, more infuriating, and nothing more beautiful to my eyes. It’s my way of serving my country and the people that I love, quite literally. So it makes me feel interesting when I realize that at first glance, some people wouldn’t think to offer me the job.

As you can probably tell, I’m Asian. South-Korean to be specific. I can speak the language, write it, read it, curse in it, and tell someone I love them using it. And I’m proud of it. On the Thanksgiving table there was always turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and kimchi.

And I guess if you asked me to choose one or the other, my loyalties lie in America– they’re who I cheer for in the olympics. But I don’t understand why I have to choose in the first place, why sometimes I feel that I have to defend myself. I didn’t know being a part of two cultures meant being neither.

I may not have really fallen in love in a 7/11 parking lot, or taken a sip from a spiked Slurpee, but I kind of have.. in spirit. The Fourth of July beach parties with the whole town waving sparklers, barbecues in backyards, the Pledge of Allegiance every morning in homeroom. These things are every bit a part of my identity, as are hanboks and japchae.

Hasan says:

“When 9/11 happened, everyone in America felt like their country was under attack. But on that night, September 12th, it was the first night– of so many nights, that I felt like my family’s love and loyalty to this country was under attack. And it always sucks. As immigrants we always have to put on these press releases to prove our patriotism. We’re always auditioning. We’ll be like ‘Yeah! I love this country! Please believe me.’ Nobody loves this country more than immigrants, I love this country man. I fell in love in this country.”

I’ve been yelled at in parking lots. Been called “my yellow princess.” Have been the interest of my (white) teachers for the food in my packed lunches since montessori.

My grandparents who moved here with their kids from the “foreign” country own a shop down in Newport Beach.

I use inches and feet.

I went to prom.

Tell me what more I can do to let you know that this is my country too.