Peggy McIntosh’s article “White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack” reminded me very much about my family and the seemingly casual discussions we would hold at the dinner table about race. My mother is a 5’1” Jewish woman, whom some might call “white,” while my father is a first generation American-born Korean man, who anyone would be able to point out is Asian. However, my sister and I grew up in our suburb of Philadelphia being racially ambiguous, which was confusing for my peers as a youngster but more of a novelty as I grew older. Sometimes my sister and I would jokingly ask our parents at the dinner table who looked more Asian or who looked more white. My dad would play along and flip-flop between who looked “more Asian” on a particular day, while my mom would tend to enjoy focusing on who looked more like her. (Unfortunately for her, neither my sister or I look ANYTHING like my mother. Or really my father for that matter.) While playful about my sister’s and my genetics, whenever my dad would make a comment about society and say something like, “That’s such a white person thing” or “Oh, he was just some white guy,” my mother would retort back with a “Hey, I’m white…what are you saying about me?” or an occasional “Hello! Your wife is white! That’s not nice to talk about white people like that!” My mom does not ever discuss my dad being Asian, nor does she ever mock Asian people, their accents, their habits, their culture. It was always my minority father who was in charge of that area of poking fun. Thus, for me, my perspective about the power of the white man is muddied by growing up in a home where my white mother was more often the minority. She did not have any Asian genes in her—the rest of us did. She did not participate in racial jokes—the rest of us did. She did not dwell on her race and her identity—the rest of us did. My mother, while technically the white person with the “knapsack,” mostly felt like the meek minority in my home and provided me with perspective of how stereotypes, prejudices, and racism can affect even those in possession of the “invisible knapsack.” Hence, I was raised with an understanding from two different individuals with their own minority perspectives, which has shaped me to embrace and appreciate everyone. And by everyone, I mean even “the whites.”