-blackvalleygirls- Honey Gold - Blasians Like I... -

Blasians like I. We don’t fit in boxes. We build our own houses.

“ Blasians Like I .”

“I’m not a spice,” she’d say, flipping them off with a smile. “I’m just Honey.” -BlackValleyGirls- Honey Gold - Blasians Like I...

But being just anything was impossible when you were Blasian in the Black Valley. The older women would cup her face and say, “Pretty, but she got that look—not quite ours.” The Vietnamese aunties at the nail salon would whisper in rapid-fire Cantonese: Too tall, too loud, too Black. Honey learned early that belonging was a language she’d have to invent herself. Blasians like I

She got the name from her grandmother, who took one look at her newborn skin—“like honey left in the sun, rich and slow”—and the thin gold chain that appeared around her neck the day she was born, as if the universe had already clasped it there. By sixteen, Honey had grown into the name. She was tall, with her Vietnamese mother’s sharp cheekbones and her Black father’s fierce, lioness eyes. Her hair was a crown of dark curls that she sometimes straightened, sometimes left wild, but never apologized for. “ Blasians Like I

Blasians like I—we don’t say goodbye We take both worlds and we multiply