I’ve worked at Fareway since high school, three stores in three different towns. At each town, with each store, while carrying out groceries, I have been mistaken for another person (presumably Asian). Surprisingly Iowa is not an incredibly diverse state, so in all fairness these cases of mistaken identity should be expected.
When I was at Muscatine there was another guy who was maybe a year or two older than me, who others suggested that we were twins. I never met this guy, and somehow I never actually saw him to validate such suggestions. I even carried out groceries for his father who told me that I should meet him. I think his father actually believed we were twins because he became more and more subtly aggressive in our attempt to be reunited.
Father: “Have you talked to my son yet?”
Me: “No…”
Father; “You should. You guys look alike.”
Me: “A few people have said that.”
Father: “He works at Menards. If you go to Menards you should find him.”
Me: “I uh… will…”
Father: “Are you going to Menards today?”
Me: “I don’t think so…”
Father: “Well you should. Find my son.”
I also had a conversation with a man* that I’ve never had before and probably never will again in my life.
*The man was in his late twenties, so he doesn’t even get the Oh-I’m-Old-And-White-And-Endearingly-Racist Excuse.
Man: “Can I ask you a question?”
(I’m thinking, oh he wants to know how long such and such a sale is going to last, or how long we’re open, or when we’re going to get in the next shipment of Code Red Mountain Dew.)
Me: “Yeah, sure.”
Man: “Are you Mexican?”
Me: “No…”
Man: “What are you?”
Me: “Korean.”
Man: “Ohhh. Well, you look Mexican.”
Me: “Ah, common mistake, I get that a lot.”*
*I didn’t really say that.
In Ames this type of conversation would occur maybe once every other week, but I always chalked it up to the fact that there are a lot of Asians in Ames. “Hey didn’t I see you running for the bus the other day?” No you did not.
Now that I’m in Nevada, however, this conversation happens nearly once every week. This is both surprising and not surprising. I’m not surprised in that Nevada is incredibly white, so if there were an Asian in town, of course they would mistake me for said Asian. But I am quite surprised that there is even an Asian in Nevada, Iowa. A lot of these conversations end in me giving a Jim-Halpert-incredulous-stare and headshake. Here are a few:
Sweet Old Lady: “Don’t you live by me?”
Me (patiently): “I actually live in Ames.”
Sweet Old Lady: “Are you sure? Don’t you live on 2nd street?”
Me (bluntly): “I live in Ames.”
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Woman: “How does your mom like her new job?”
Me: “I’m not sure you know my mom…”
Woman: “Well, I heard that she got a new real estate job.”
Me: “My mom actually lives in Muscatine, Iowa.”
Woman: “Huh. Really? I wonder why I heard that then.”
Shakes head.
---
Man: “You live here in Nevada?”
Me: “No I actually live in Ames.”
Man: “You look like a guy who lives in Nevada.”
Me: “Nope, I’m from Ames.”
Man: “Oh. Well, did your parents just go to New Mexico?”
Me: “No.”
As I am adopted these conversations always intrigue me, as it could be possible that I do have long lost brothers who also somehow got adopted into families in Iowa. (Hallmark movie in the making.) These interactions do humor me more than they make me self-conscious. One of the reasons is that I do not view myself as “adopted” or even out of place from the people around me. The family I have is my only family. My parents are my only parents. I believe this is how God sees us, as through Christ we have become adopted into his family. Not only that, but we’re now his actual sons and daughters. The act of adoption into Christ is true and filled with grace and love; the label however, of “adopted” sons and daughters may not be totally accurate. My parents never refer to me as their adopted son. I’m just their son, there’s no gray area or false identity. Adoption means a new family and thus a new identity, an identity we should be ready to fully embrace as those who are co-heirs with Christ.
“For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him.”
This post cracked me up. By the way, didn't I see you doing math in the library the other day?
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