We Only Hire White People
I got extremely lucky when I graduated. It was an internship that turned into an associate producer position, to work on Hollywood films and TV shows, including a series of films executive produced by Steven Spielberg. When I got drunk at film festivals, I told people how glamorous my job was. I was the master of name dropping. The truth was far from it. Every day, I made coffee for the producers, wrote film proposals for broadcasters and investors, and did a lot of runs to my producer’s house, to find unread scripts on her bedroom floor, which was usually full of empty wine bottles and worn panties, I’m not making this shit up. I learned as much as I could for the next few years, but when I made my first film, and successfully sold it to a few broadcasters, I rediscovered my passion for storytelling.
But my day job felt meaningless, it ran out of all the little excitements that it once offered, and it made me think about what was important to me, what I valued most in life, and what were my deepest desires. I wanted to travel and explore, I wanted to photograph diverse cultures around the world, and I wanted a lifestyle full of creativity, excitement, and travel. So I quit. When you are clear about what you want, the universe conspires in helping you achieve it. I truly believe that when we set our intentions, God listens, and magic happens.
Out of the blue, I got an email from a film school friend who had moved to South Korea right after graduation, to teach and travel. Her life was adventurous, full of wonder and excitement. The last time I had heard from her was during her summer travels to Japan. I was envious of her freedom and her adventurous lifestyle, and she was envious of me because of my glamorous job, aren’t we funny creatures, always wanting what we don’t have. Her kindergarten had an opening that came with long, paid vacations. What are the chances. Though I was concerned about being inexperienced, but she reassured me that it was one of the easiest jobs she had ever done. So I took the leap and booked my flight.
My friend picked me up at the airport, and we went straight to her friend’s place for dinner, where we ate kimbab with kimchi, and drank too much soju. I thought I had made the right decision, until I went to school the next day.
The Director of the school only spoke Korean, so I’m not sure what got lost in the translation, but the first thing that came out of his mouth was, “we only hire white people,” he took a sip of his tea, “but you’re good looking, so the parents might like you.” I looked at my friend, she shook her head.
“Okay, so you change your name,” he continued. “What do you mean?” I raised my voice, which was a big mistake. I voiced my opinions openly when I lived in Canada, it was even encouraged, but I was in a different culture, and I forgot to respect their norm. He pushed aside his tea cup, got up, and lectured for a few minutes, with no translation. He sat back down, looked at me, and said, “No Afa zala Hooda, no white.” He pointed us to the door, and his secretary told me I better change my name or go back to Canada.
I didn’t want that job, how could I work at a place that was so racist. “Alex,” my friend said. I looked clueless. “Your new name, Alex. I think it suits you,” her friends nodded. “But, they only hire white people,” I raised my eyebrows. We were drinking at a local bar filled with young Koreans, white expats, and me. I was the only one who stood out like a sore thumb, yet I was there pretending to be one of them. This is the life I always wanted, to be in a foreign land, to meet new people, and in the process, get closer to my true self. That night I realized that the universe conspired in helping me get there, so why didn’t I want to accept it. Times have changed now, but when I first started working in South Korea, I was the only person of color who successfully created a fake persona of a white person. But then again, it was not all fake either, I have a mixed identity, because my values connect me to both East and West. The parts of me that I project through Afzal Huda are very different from the persona of Alex Ashman. Two identities, one soul.
I opened myself up to experience life the way it came my way, without expecting anything, without judging anything. And my time in South Korea transformed into one of the best experiences of my life. I lived a life where I was Alex only at work, everyone else knew me by my real name. Even to this day, some people know me as Alex Ashman, but the ones that have been in my life for a long time will always know me as Afzal Huda.
