My father married a short Toisanese
My mother’s family said, “He’s not Chinese.”
The rabbi said you’re not quite Jewish by law
Couldn’t communicate with my grandma
“What are you?” That’s all I ever heard
“What are you?” It’s a question so absurd
I’m biracial – half Jewish, half Chinese
But I am so much more than what your eyes can see
Grew up in a Southern college town
Not Black or White so where did I belong?
Couldn’t connect with my community
Learned to fit in and lost a part of me
“What are you?” That’s all I ever heard
“What are you?” It’s a question so absurd
I’m biracial – half Jewish, half Chinese
But I am so much more than what your eyes can see
I went to Penn and learned to be a Jew
Moved to California, then I felt Asian, too
My identity is fluid and contextual
Can’t fit into a box or simple label
“What are you?” That’s all I ever heard
“What are you?” It’s a question so absurd
I’m biracial – half Jewish, half Chinese
But I am so much more than what your eyes can see