Jan 2016
Everyone’s mom teaches them the basics of life
How to take care of yourself
How to make friends
My mother taught me to be proud of who I am
There was an asian who went to my old school who made fun of himself just to make friends
My mother pointed out, “His way with dealing with the bullying is bad. Don’t do what he does.”
But I felt sorry for him
Because even I understood at that age
That joking about yourself is a survival skill and usually what you say isn’t actually a joke
But you let people laugh so you feel accepted
Ad it becomes a relentless habit that pursues and consumes you
Until you degrade yourself so much that you’re practically nothing
I remember the first time I proudly actually said to someone:
“I’m Chinese.” only to have the response:
“Yeah. I can tell. Your eyes.” and a rather belittling smirk.
I dealt with so many people mocking me at the point of saying I’m super smart or play instruments and that was so ‘Chinese'
I’ve dealt with people stretching the corners of their eyes with their fingers
As if they weren’t stretching my heart
And I laughed because I couldn’t think of what else to do
But inside, part of me died, gone up in smoke and flew away to wherever Hell was
Why do I have to live up to something like that?
I just want to be me
But even that won’t work
I cannot simply stop how others see me
And usually all they see me as is an Asian
We’re all put in groups
So why does it even matter to even be good at something
When it won’t remove the label put on you at birth?
Apparently I can’t be bad at something…anything.
Do you know what that’s like when someone gives me a look when I tell them I’ve failed something?
Another piece of my soul goes up in smoke
I’m sorry I’m a human too!
Apparently Chinese are supposed to be really good at things
I’m sorry if I don’t want to be perfect!
I’m sorry I want to be flawed…that I want to be a freak
That I already am one
That word stings when you say it to me
But as long as I have people standing by me
For me to be a freak with
It’s not such a bad word
How to take care of yourself
How to make friends
My mother taught me to be proud of who I am
There was an asian who went to my old school who made fun of himself just to make friends
My mother pointed out, “His way with dealing with the bullying is bad. Don’t do what he does.”
But I felt sorry for him
Because even I understood at that age
That joking about yourself is a survival skill and usually what you say isn’t actually a joke
But you let people laugh so you feel accepted
Ad it becomes a relentless habit that pursues and consumes you
Until you degrade yourself so much that you’re practically nothing
I remember the first time I proudly actually said to someone:
“I’m Chinese.” only to have the response:
“Yeah. I can tell. Your eyes.” and a rather belittling smirk.
I dealt with so many people mocking me at the point of saying I’m super smart or play instruments and that was so ‘Chinese'
I’ve dealt with people stretching the corners of their eyes with their fingers
As if they weren’t stretching my heart
And I laughed because I couldn’t think of what else to do
But inside, part of me died, gone up in smoke and flew away to wherever Hell was
Why do I have to live up to something like that?
I just want to be me
But even that won’t work
I cannot simply stop how others see me
And usually all they see me as is an Asian
We’re all put in groups
So why does it even matter to even be good at something
When it won’t remove the label put on you at birth?
Apparently I can’t be bad at something…anything.
Do you know what that’s like when someone gives me a look when I tell them I’ve failed something?
Another piece of my soul goes up in smoke
I’m sorry I’m a human too!
Apparently Chinese are supposed to be really good at things
I’m sorry if I don’t want to be perfect!
I’m sorry I want to be flawed…that I want to be a freak
That I already am one
That word stings when you say it to me
But as long as I have people standing by me
For me to be a freak with
It’s not such a bad word
