Yellow. Yell-oh. Yell "Oh!"

The book I am currently reading is Yell-Oh Girls! by Vickie Nam. In this book contains past experiences of Asian American girls that faced racism, discrimination, family matters, and many other complex issues they've encountered in Asia and America.

Being an Asian American myself, I can understand the pain these people suffered - not because I'm Asian American, but because I faced many of these problems as an Asian American. This is some really complex wording, so just pretend you understood.

Connecting this to real life and my past experience, all I can remember is some inequality in elementary and junior high. In my past elementary school, there were different races, and different colors. During class, I would hear things along the lines of, "hey, you Chinese, right?" and I would reply, "Yeah/Duh". To be honest, elementary didn't matter...except for the times when they said I looked very Chinese, which is obvious.

During sixth grade, racism literally exploded. Combusted. I had an African-American friend who'd say mean, provoking things like, "you know, your toes...they look so...Asian. They don't look right. You're really yellow, too." Looking back at the past, she was a bit innocent, though. But most of our time, we would talk about how black/yellow/racist we are. This isn't really the most shocking part.

I was nominated as 'task manager' (in our school, each class had a folder which contains all the classmates' names and our teachers would comment whether an individual was off-task or excellent, and whether the entire class did good or bad in general) during sixth grade, as well. It was a really big thing to do that year - everyone wanted to see whether their teachers commented well or not. My science teacher warned me not to display it like that and put it in my backpack, but I couldn't help it; my teachers wanted it immediately and I had to leave on time with it. One day, a classmate screamed and tried to steal the folder from me. Of course, I tried my best to pull it away. He screamed, "You stupid Chinese motherfu**ker!" and I was seriously provoked by such rude manner (maybe I kicked him really hard one or two times...). My science teacher then found me with the folder in my hands and I was fired from task manager. I was crying desperately, not because I was fired. I actually felt more relaxed being fired. What I hated the most was the racial comment this so-called 'classmate' said towards my face. I took the comment independently, however, which I regret. Sixth grade was the worst grade I have ever experienced.

I received many stereotypical comments overtime during junior high, too. In seventh grade, I always received a 94+ average on all my classes but math. I was in Accelerated Math, but it only made it worse. I had high to low 80s during that year, along with my other Asian friend. Other Asians received 90+, but they knew how I felt. The others would state, "aren't you Asian? Aren't you supposed to be good at math?" and I would be a little offended. My mother and sister were so tense on me. At one point, I was on the computer watching a show, and my mom gave me food. Beforehand, my sister forced me to sweep the floor, and I just stopped when she was in front of me. She said, "what? Go CLEAN it!" and, of course, I did. When my mom gave me my food, she went back into the living room with my sister. My sister literally talked in a tone that I could hear, and said, "You know, this girl...she swept, right? Then she stopped and left the garbage on the floor". Mother, went, "she's stupid. So lazy. And she's getting so lazy; back then you'd study right after you do homework and you don't play games on the computer". She said it in a disrespectful, rude manner. When she was on her laptop, I was eating and crying while she was behind me. I kept weeping until I ran to the bathroom. I couldn't believe she'd speak of me like that. I kept cursing to both of them in my mind. Too bad I'm not sis, freaking as*hole, I would repeat in my mind. I even planned of running away when I felt like I couldn't stand it anymore, but I would just be in more trouble. Even remembering this would make me cry, as I'm writing this. I'm different compared to my sister, after all.

I'm not sure about other people, but the most truthful stereotype is that Asian mothers are scary and they over-stress you.