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seeking, look america
seeking
there is a dream
faint as a silkworm’s spindle
resting in the back of my mind
in the dream
there is a garden of eden that embraces my dilemma
that embraces my family’s touch and go identity
there is a dream
where being the child of an immigrant is
celebrated
where foreign accents do not bear shame
because the secret flavors of the motherland riddled in my people’s tongues
should be nothing less than a proud passport of home
the dream is where my people are not an accessory
a diversity card
the yellow crumbs dusted off a white napkin
unsuitable props hidden behind a backdrop of the american dream
and the dream
is a love poem
to everyone stuck in the in between
dedicated to the ones wading through the pacific
between asia and america
the dream is calling to
everyone who has ever had to choose between the country of their fathers
and the soil they were born on
manzanar 1943
fill in each box
yes yes
no no
each check
the closing of a casket
confirming the death of half of an identity
the dream
is an asylum for everyone who has been
forced to untangle the so-called mess of their identity
just to knit wool socks of the pledge of allegiance out of it
it’s for every girl of eastern descent who has grown up
worshipping double-eyelid tape shrines
for every girl of eastern descent who has grown up
wanting to shed their identity like a chrysalis
for every girl of eastern descent
who has ever tried to purge the orient out of her own blood
in that dream
my identity isn’t always half and half
half taiwanese
half american
half gold
half red white and blue
where we are not just broken fragments of different colors
but a stained glass window
and i can almost taste that dream
look america
xii.
the year you begin trying
the year you begin noticing how your nose doesn’t quite turn upwards like gigi hadid’s
the year you begin noticing your reflection in store mirrors
the year you begin to avoid looking at your reflection in store mirrors
the year you and all your friends sat at lunch in a circle on the ground
poring over magazine-full pictures of european models
longing for caucasian features
sat at lunch in a circle on the ground
whispering kumbaya to white jesus
after 40 days of fasting jesus finally saw the face of god
and is that not exactly what this is?
starving out the atheist
until she is desperate enough to pray to whatever entity
that promises to turn her stone into bread
and isn’t it ironically beautiful
how you can crave something so much
that you learn to believe in someone else’s god
xiii.
you have been patiently waiting to metamorphosize out of this heavy body of a model minority for a long time now
patiently chanting the verses to somebody else’s bible
waiting for a distant miracle
xiv.
tell a girl
she is only as pretty as the whites of her eyes
and she will believe that all of her being
is worth only one crap shoot at whiteness
xv.
these are the red days
the days at school when you are too much tiger and not enough stars and stripes
on your angriest days
you will mock your mother’s accent
point out the flaws in her pronunciation
purposely pick at the loose consonants and tainan stained vowels spilling from her mouth
pull the rug out from under her red white and blue sky
a reminder as if to say
look
look at how un american you are
you and me
are nothing alike
xvi.
see most times i am guilty
of playing the ungrateful daughter
see most times i am guilty
of othering to belong
see most of the times i am guilty
of being the girl who finishes the punchline of a dry joke
just in time to dodge the bullet of easily offended
you cannot intern the girl if she built the chain link fences herself
as if to say
look i am different
as if to say
look america, i am loyal
look america
i am loyal
Anouk Yeh
Grade: 10Saratoga High School
Saratoga, CA 95070Educator(s): Kelly Wissolik
Awards: Poetry
Gold Medal, 2020
Questions or comments about this work? Contact us!https://ors.artandwriting.org/media/495290-
Listen to Anouk discuss this work.
seeking & look America.m4a
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