That’s Not My Face

Warning: rant ahead.

So I have this one friend, who happens to not be white (okay that sounds weird, kind of like I only have one non-white friend, which is actually not the case), and every time there is a young white male in the news, he always goes “you look like you could be [person in the news]’s twin/older brother/cousin.”

I have told him time and time again, I know that yes, it’s a stereotype that all Asians look the same, but I do not look like all or any of these people. Seriously. He’s compared me to everyone from Josh Duggar to some guy he met on the bus, and yesterday, he told me that I could be Brock Turner’s older brother. Despite the fact that we look absolutely. Nothing. Alike. If it’s a joke, it’s gotten way too annoying, but still, no.

That’s probably one of the least flattering things anyone’s ever said to me.


On Giving Others a Reality Check When They Deserve It (or Why It’s Hard For Me to Help Myself)

Today, I had a 10 AM appointment with University Health Services, so I bundled myself up with all my supplies for the day – books, papers, notebooks, laptop, projector (that didn’t work), coffee cup (which I forgot to fill with coffee), and lunch (which I forgot to include utensils) – and headed out in the freezing cold. I got there a few minutes late, mostly because of the slow elevator ride to the 7th floor because it’s Madison and elevators are slow here.

I walked in to see a younger, Asian-looking man, and a slightly older redheaded lady at the desk. The man waves me over to check me in. I give him my name and ID number, and he types it in and then has a funny look on his face. So then this happens:

ME (to the guy): You look confused.

REDHEADED LADY (to me): You look late.

ME (to Redhead): You look like you’re about to get a bad performance evaluation in patient care quality.

Ouch, a little harsh, but that was the best I could come up with. Either that or “mind’ya business, okay honey?”


I have a seat, and a few minutes later, the lady I’m coming to see comes out to get me and walks me back to her office. When I get back to her office and we sit down, the lady goes, “Yeah, so she [Redhead] just came back here and told me that she screwed up and she’s really sorry she said that. I told her that we all make mistakes but need to keep our personalities in check and out of the office.”

That’s just about the first time in my whole entire life that I’ve ever been told that someone was sorry for how they acted towards me.

Oddly enough, depression is one of the things that I struggle with, but I felt great. Life’s like that, I guess.

I’ve been getting better about getting to places on time, especially stricter things like meetings, appointments, and classes, but in my opposite-side-of-the-table life, I really don’t care that much if people come late to my classes (don’t tell my students that though please, thank you!). People’s lives are people’s lives, and if they’re human, they probably either a) have a reason, and feel bad about it, or b) don’t have a reason, and feel bad about it, so adding a wisecrack or a criticism doesn’t really add anything. .I don’t see it as an issue of respect or whatever; if you’re late, you’re late, and it’s on you, and whatever-the-hell because we’re all on this earth and doing the best we can and experiencing the passing of time in the same damn way every single day.

So, whatever side of the table you’re on, just don’t be a dick about it. Things happen and they don’t always involve you…and yes, I’m talking to you too, redheaded receptionist lady. You’ve got a case of the Wednesdays.