Name calling.
I suppose it could be much, much worse for a tall, skinny Chinese guy, but I hated to be called "Yao Ming" by strangers. Drunk guys in bars do it. Kids at the playground do it. On the street, on the buses... you name it. That is until today. I was at work and the janitors were stripping and waxing the floors. One of them, trying to prevent me from messing up their work, called out "Yao Ming" to get my attention. Instead of getting annoyed, it hit me. Maybe all those times people call me "Yao" is not because they think it is funny, but it was just an awkward but friendly way to getting my attention. They just don't know my name, but neither do I know their names even though I see some of them at work everyday. Perhaps it is like calling someone who looked Indian, "Gandhi." Being a minority and on the receiving end of such greeting, I can be understandably a bit more sensitve--"is that all you know of anyone from China?" Yet, being compared to a multi-million international icon is not insulting but a compliment, albeit a crude one. So for the time being, I won't be getting mad by all the Yao-lings, and will try to learn more of the names of people I see everyday.
posted by hedgehog @ 4:25 PM
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