I have the privilege
           Of forgetting my heritage
Because seventy years ago my grandfather rejected his home country
     For mine
And a people so focused on not being a minority
              That I am no longer considered one
I can move into privileged neighborhoods
       Because sixty years ago my grandparents tore a few pages out of their books
I will be hired because fifty years ago my father was born
                             A parchment colored page
And forty years ago my grandfather refused to teach his son his native language to his son
         So he could be privileged enough to forget his heritage
And thirty years later meet a white women
                   Twenty years, marry her
                       Seventeen a son
                          Fifteen a daughter
the color of a blank page
               But I will not tear out my pages
Nor will I let them stay empty
      I may have risen above my grandfather's homeland
                       But I will be sure never to forget it