When I first learned that my last name was an imperial dynasty
A whirlwind of pride unleashed above me
Because somewhere between the line of feeling Asian American
I loved being Chinese
But somewhere else between the lines of acceptance and comfort
I hated my identity
When I was four,
I realized being “Chinese”
would burden me
When I was five
I opened my silver thermos
and all eyes were staring at me
When I was six
Someone criticized my brown almond shaped eyes
So I looked in a mirror and examined mine
When I was seven
I watched Disney
and saw no one who looked like me
When I was eight
People stereotyped me as smart and unathletic
And projected me as their “second choice”
When I was nine
A girl told me my qipao*
Was the ugliest thing she’d seen
When I was ten
I dropped out of Chinese School
‘cause learning Chinese was pointless for me
When I was eleven
Someone called me Ching Chong Mei-lee
When I was twelve
I desperately wanted to leave a culture that destroyed me
Because let me tell you that embracing my Chinese
Was so hard for me
For twelve years I was ashamed of my ethnicity
And for twelve years I was trapped between two discrete worlds
But let me tell you that when you call me a
GOOK! CHINK! SESAME EYES!
That those derogatory words bear heavy significance
Because “chink” is the hulking sound of enslaved “gooks” piecing together the continental railroad
So when I was 13
Someone told me to “go back to China”
Because I defended my ethnicity
But when I was 14
I fully accepted the honor of being Chinese
When I was 15
I became infuriated with stereotypes held against Asians
Because “lack of opportunity” isn’t a valid excuse in a country that boasts diversity
Now that I’m 16
I’ve grown to be proud of being Chinese
*qipao = traditional Chinese dress
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