I lost count of how many times people would question my ethnicity growing up.
To be honest with you, people still question me about it to this day.
I was born in Germany, but I moved to Georgia in the U.S. with my family at a young age.
Both of my parents were born and raised in Germany, so you’d think I’d have a traditional German appearance.
Not so much.
My mom’s parents immigrated to Germany from Taiwan and Japan, so I have a strong Asian complexion.
While I have much stronger ties to Germany than Asia, I often get confused about being Asian instead of German.
All of this, mind you, is while I was growing up in South Georgia, which has incredibly traditional Southern values.
I didn’t fit the mold, and as a result, this caused me to question my identity and who I was.
It was a confusing, cruel, and unsettling time of my life as a girl trying to find my place in the world and where I fit in.
There was a time when I wasn’t sure I’d ever find an environment that was comfortable and didn’t make me feel like an outcast.
But then, the most amazing thing happened.
I discovered a sport that would change my life forever, and more importantly, I found a place where I finally felt like I belonged.
A constant outsider
I remember how uncomfortable eating school lunch could be for me at times.
My mom would often make me Asian dishes, and none of my peers could figure out why I was eating them.
“What is that?”
“Why are you eating that?”
“Is that Asian food? I thought you were from Germany?”
I certainly can’t blame kids for being genuinely curious, but it wasn’t easy when no one seemed to understand the complexities of my multicultural upbringing.
I grew up with families that have lived in the same city for generations upon generations.
As an outsider in this community, I stood out no matter how hard I tried to fit in.
Like many, I used sports as an escape from some of the struggles I faced on a daily basis in my efforts to adapt to a culture that didn’t understand my own.
Naturally, born to German parents, I grew up playing soccer and watching the German national team play on TV.
I always thought I’d continue to play soccer in high school, but there was another sport that would ultimately become my “home” and where I began to find myself for the first time in my life.
Track and field.
Coming into my own
My older sister ran cross country, so when I was in middle school, I thought I’d give it a try, too.
Race after race, I was rapidly improving and seeing results. When I was in eighth grade, it got to a point where I was so ahead of my peers that I got to participate in the high school meets.
While it was a thrill to run with my sister on the high school varsity team as an eighth grader, I really didn’t think anything of it until I saw I was finishing in the top group after every race.
This was when I realized I may have a hidden talent that I never knew about.
As time went on, I continued to compete in track and field once I got to high school, and that’s when I really started to blossom.
Not only was I improving, but my passion for the sport was growing as well.
I loved playing soccer and basketball, but I learned that I wasn’t the most skilled in the technical aspects of those sports.
That’s when I decided to focus solely on track.
I was hoping I’d have the opportunity to run track in college, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up. After all, I’d only been running for a few years at this point; I was far behind most athletes in my development as a runner.
But I’ve never felt more comfortable or had as much confidence in myself than when I stepped foot on that track. All I wanted was to find a university that would help me continue to feel this way.
I certainly can't blame kids for being genuinely curious, but it wasn't easy when no one seemed to understand the complexities of my multicultural upbringing. I grew up with families that have lived in the same city for generations upon generations. As an outsider in this community, I stood out no matter how hard I tried to fit in. Like many, I used sports as an escape from some of the struggles I faced on a daily basis in my efforts to adapt to a culture that didn't understand my own.
Embracing my purpose
When I got my first email from UGA, I was over the moon.
It was by far the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me, but I also wanted to protect myself.
If they lost interest and didn’t offer me a scholarship, I didn’t want to be devastatingly disappointed, either.
Deep down, though, UGA is exactly where I wanted to be.
Throughout the recruiting process, I had moments where I thought I was talented enough to make it on that team and compete for such a prestigious university.
There were other times, however, when I let self-doubt get in my way, and that caused me to question if I was good enough to even run track at this level or should just focus on academics.
When I ultimately signed with the Bulldogs, that’s when it became real.
I was going to join UGA and compete against some of the best runners in the country.
It’s when I fully embraced my purpose and found a sense of belonging I’d been searching for my entire life.
What makes me unique
One of the many things I love about track is how diverse it is.
I was able to find a community of people with various backgrounds, countries, languages, financial statuses, etc.
We’re from all these different areas of the world, but we all line up together with the same goal in mind, waiting for that starting pistol to go off.
That’s what I enjoy about the sport more than anything.
There was a time when I didn’t know how to answer people who wondered how I was German when I looked like I was Asian.
Or, why I didn’t have a Southern accent living in Georgia.
But I’ve come to realize that my identity isn’t defined by any of those things.
I’m defined by the kind of person I am and the passions I pursue that make me the happiest.
And there isn’t anything on this earth that makes me happier than running and being surrounded by a community that transcends cultural barriers.
I spent so much of my life trying to fit in, but I’ve come to learn that my multicultural upbringing is a gift.
That uniqueness is something to embrace and be proud of, and it’s what makes us all special.
From now on, if people ask me about my identity, I’ll just tell them the truth.
I’m Charlotte.
I was blessed to be born into a multicultural family, and I found a passion in track and field that helped me discover who I was and where I belonged.
And I hope I can help others do the same.
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