A self portrait in front of bamboo in my backyard and handwritten note as a part of an ongoing project that explores transracial and intercultural adoption and how it affects my personal identity. Being separated from our roots as a child is something adoptees can't control, and often leaves us asking ourselves countless questions. Since the beginning of the coronavirus pandemic more questions such as "Did my biological family survive the pandemic?" and "Are they thinking about me?" have been whirling around in my mind. In a time of rising anti-Asian sentiment I've also come to the realization that what I relate to most with non-adopted Asian Americans is my experience of racism. My proximity to whiteness never has and never will protect me from people making fun of my eyes or asking me "Where are you really from?"