Cassie Whitebread

With a last name like Whitebread, I’ve always struggled with my sense of identity. I’m mixed-race; my mother is 1st generation Chinese, and my father is mostly Irish and German. The story goes that when my German ancestors immigrated through Ellis Island, “Weissbrot” was changed to “Whitebread.” I often reflect on how the insidious nature of assimilation impacted my mother as she navigated a very white town in New Jersey and chose to take on my father’s last name. For me and my mother, this last name adds an extra sticky layer of tension to meeting people for the first time. “Whitebread? But you’re not white.” I’ve heard every single joke and question about my last name that you can imagine. I fluctuate between despise for my last name and willing a sense of pride to protect myself from any impending ridicule or questioning from strangers. During those negative bouts, a fondness for this name that connects me to the men in my family pulls me out of the dark. This ongoing rollercoaster ride with my last name is inevitably tied to the sense of limbo that many mixed-race and biracial people feel―”Am I enough?” While growing up, I was hopeful of marrying someone to escape “Whitebread,” but I’m going to marry my wonderful fiance, whose last name is Groce (pronounced Gross). Whether or not I’ll take his last name is still up in the air.
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