Sometimes it pays to be Asian...

Of course, sometimes it doesn't pay to be Asian either. When I was in the seventh grade, for instance, my classmates would often confuse me with the other Asian girls in the school. They would confuse me with Tiffany Lin or Christina Fang or Jih-Fan I-Forgot-Her-Last-Name because, well, we all had dark hair and almond-shaped eyes. Ugh. Silly white people...

But sometimes it does pay to be Asian.

Yesterday morning, Justin and I headed to the Obama rally in Fayetteville and, boy, were we excited! We arrived at the Crown Coliseum a full hour before the doors opened and waited patiently in the long winding line. Unfortunately, once the doors opened, utter chaos broke out over the crowd and everybody pushed and shoved their way to the front. Our precious place in line had been lost. *Sigh* Justin and I resigned ourselves to sitting in the nosebleed section where we would have to use binoculars to see Obama.


Yet not all hope was lost! As we wormed our way through the Coliseum, a young Obama volunteer asked us if we would like to sit in a section of special seats within camera shot of the speakers. Um...hell yes! We greedily took the green wristbands she offered us and found two cushy seats close to the podium.

It was apparent to both Justin and me why the Obama volunteer offered us this special access. In a stadium full of African-Americans (around 80% of the audience was black compared to 50% in the special section), my Asian face stuck out like an atheist in Provo, Utah. Since I was the only East Asian at the Coliseum (literally), I became the beneficiary of some sort of political rally affirmative action.

A part of me felt bad about sitting in such nice seats due to the color of my skin. (To be fair, Justin's whiteness helped us out too.) I do understand why Obama's campaign wanted to create a multicultural backdrop to his speech---I've seen McCain's camp do it too---but what's so wrong with having an all-black camera shot? Or all-white? Or all-Asian?

But a part of me didn't feel bad at all. Why? Because I my feet were tired and my nerves were frazzled for waiting in line for two and a half hours. I just wanted to sit down---and preferably close to Barack Obama.