Personal Narrative: My Sense Of Identity

I am Asian. I am of African descent. I am white. I am mixed. These small, simple words are how people view their race and identity. We make claims daily about our culture from our unawareness of it, including the people that fit the image and discarding the ones who don't. Since, most concepts of one's background is socially suggested, this effect is played through school events, social media, my relationships, and how I came to see my own sense of identity.
This is what I look to you: I'm yellow. But, a more pale yellow. Plain, black-looking, straight hair with black-looking eyes. My skin is lighter than the normally darker Filipino. People guess I'm Chinese or even Kazakhstani,which by the way is geographically incorrect, but most have trouble and give up. So, did I for a long time.
Through the comparisons of my classmates, I was the only one with black pin-straight hair; I was the only one with dark chinky eyes; I was the only one. I've been asked, “What are you?” since I was coloring in a Disney coloring book in the second grader. I was carefully coloring to not get any type of color outside the thin lines when a young white girl yelled “What are you?” across the classroom. Well, I did what any second grader did and yelled back “I don't think so!” meaning “I don't know!”. When it’s to people's curiosity, and the awareness of my skin tone, I’ve heard it all based on one question, found also at the