to the girl who leaned out of a car and said to a group of my friends from home, “fuck asians”:

sticks and stones

may break my bones

but your words indeed do hurt me.

they make me sad

and angry.

i did not do anything

to deserve your hate

other than be born in some skin

that is different

from yours,

have hair black as the

pure night sky,

and

not appear to be your

typical

white

american.

i have done no harm to you,

your family,

or your people

and yet

you seem to feel

the need

to share your hatred

with a group

you have

never

met

and know

absolutely

nothing

about.

i said you make me sad and angry.

i am angry

that you filled

my happy occasion

with words of contempt and arrogance.

but i am more sad

that you have to

suffer

in a life

of prejudice,

of blindness,

living with a

worldview far more narrow

than the slits of my eyes

that you so dislike.

i am sad

you will never know

more than your own

little world,

that you are

trapped in your

ignorance,

that you will never

have eyes that learn

to see the world

without widely revealing

the turmoil within,

master more than your

barbaric

and stabbing utensils,

understand a language

that rings with a sincerity

only comprehensible to

those who both

suffered

and

triumphed,

and stand strong with a community

of individuals

that you will never

have the joy

and the

privilege

to know,

understand,

unite with,

love.

 

By Emily Yang, PO ’14

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