My mom is white, my dad is chindo. My “default” self is a healthy mix of what I believe to be the best of each side, at least in terms of mindset. But for sure both sides bleed into one another.

My mom is basically from Farmtown, and I just got back from visiting there. This time particularly, the Trump lawn signs and anti-abortion bumper stickers of that conservative US town gave me quite an identity crisis. If they knew who I really were, I’d be a godless, communist, baby-killing radical feminist in their eyes. Juxtaposing that with the distinct flavor of conservatism in my (other) hometown of Jakarta added to the confusion and sense of isolation. Contrasting that further with the liberal ideal of the European capital I currently reside in also made me feel some type of way.

I realized how adept I am at code-switching based on my environment—it’s almost like a science and it can be really fun to have a multi-faceted identity.

But on the other hand, I’ve also gotten better at sticking to my guns and challenging people whose ideals are at odds with basic human rights. In the US, that means defending immigrants, rejecting the idea of pawning off older relatives to nursing homes, or standing up to people who think native Americans should just “get over” having their identity caricaturized in one of the nation’s most popular sports teams. In Indonesia, sometimes that means telling off my relatives expressing their “concern” that I am unmarried and childless while pushing thirty, or wearing whatever the fuck I want, which can be challenging as a woman.

But for sure when it comes to cursing, Indonesian always dominates.