I'm kind of racist. No big deal.

Don’t be fooled. The lack of riots, homicides, and public destruction is not a declaration that racism is not still prevalent in society. Like most sudden silences, it is a signal that winds have shifted, nature has yet again adapted, and its new mutation is rising up from the underground. As a Canadian-born Korean I have experienced racism of past and present, with a one-way ticket on the future red eye. I have noticed, though, that the progression of racial wars has become much more strategic. The obvious attacks from one race to another race—in schools, on buses, or in the political system—have been subdued in our great nation. Many would say this is a testament to great social progress, and I am not one to argue. The path of racial progression, however, is becoming culturally stunted now.

In my past, I was once accused of making up the term “Korean” because my accuser had never heard of it before. Granted I was seven years old and riding a crammed yellow school bus. Still, I knew better than to think this young African American girl could only have come from the Congo. Regardless, when it came to Asian ethnicities she only knew of “Chinks” and “Japs” so, clearly, throwing “Korean” into her well-balanced mix was completely absurd of me. Now, however, I would like to believe everyone has heard of Korea. North or South. Good or bad. It doesn’t matter as long as we’re acknowledged as a real country by now. Thanks Kim Jong-il for putting us on the map.

The present, and potentially future, of racism is possibly even more pathetic since I am not even considered “Korean” to other Koreans. Apparently there are levels of how Korean you can be and each judge on the panel, ranging from first to second generation Koreans, has their own rating system.

Judge #1 is a veteran of scrutiny and tradition; never the first to vocalize his true assessments, but the first to make conclusions. Of course, to this judge, judging based on Western cultural practices is unheard of. The traditions of his native country are top priority, whether you’re still there or not, and his opinion never hinges on whether you have even stepped foot on your native soil before. A firm grasp of the English language—grammar, vocabulary, proper sentence structure—is disregarded by Judge #1. Crucial importance is, however, placed on impeccable pronunciation when ordering beef bone stew in a Korean restaurant. Good luck. Hope you enjoy your meal subtly spiced with criticism and disgust. Someone should send the first judge a “Welcome to Canada, Get Over Yourself” basket. It may be too late though. I think the long overdue gesture has made the judge bitter and irrationally stubborn in his ways.

Judge #2 is a little out of it, as she arrived via plane for this. Because of this, she is slightly confused and very whiney. Then again, she always seems unsatisfied and, in her mind, will forever be right about everything. Technically, due to her more recent transfer from Korea to Canada, this judge is considered more as #1.5 (not quite first generation, but not a Canadian-born second generation either). Me being a female, the female judges are particularly tough to win over. They are particularly critical of fashion and appearances, holding true to trends that may bear no significance or logic in Western society. This is where I tend to fail. I have neither the capacity nor patience to understand why polka dot print would match with checkered print and still be topped with a fluorescent orange baseball cap. And personally, as an independent twenty-something, I fear I may have too many daily necessities to fit into a furry Hello Kitty backpack; unless, of course, I leave my pride at home. I am also put at a deficit since Judge #1.5 does not take social status into account; and since I do not have access to $20 designer knockoffs, my trendiness is merely sub par to this Gocci and Prado clad fashionista. Such kaleidoscopic trendiness is beyond my reach, in any direction I may attempt, so I will be satisfied being nothing more than average. At most. Don’t worry, I know where I stand in your ratings Judge #1.5, but you may want to reconsider your position to in front of a clear reflective surface, rather than that fuzzy lit, purposely angled, webcam photo shoot.

Zero for two so far. My chances of actually being Korean are looking slim. Lastly, my racial future hangs in the balance with Judge #2 (formally #3).

This last judge is my best bet. Also being born in Canada, he is also considered a second generation Korean like me. English is both our first language and we willingly accept our spotty, inelegant accent when trying to speak Korean. We enjoy traditional Korean meals, but can always go for some hearty Montreal-spiced meat and potatoes. We tend to have a variety of ethnic friends, or at least put forth an effort to greet them. We could have been raised in big cities as well as small towns and appreciate multiple genres of music. We are Koreans living in Canada. We are cultured beyond just Korean traditions. We respect the differences between races, whether these differences are values, social customs, or generational. Instead, we acknowledge and embrace them because we understand that being judgmental against your own racial members is futile. In fact it is a step backwards from the progress already made.

So mock my faulty pronunciation, question my fashion sense, and wonder why I hang out in multi-ethnic groups. After all, none of these things determine the validity of my race or the pride I have in my racial heritage. They do, however, establish an attempt to impede the social progress of a society that has spent generations suffering, fighting, and sacrificing to achieve. A culture that has already moved beyond such a close-minded and self-destructive perspective. To you, who insist on obstructing social harmoney, good luck and welcome. Careful though, it can get pretty hot in this melting pot.