YELLOW DAUGHTER

Yellow Daughter

By Mary Cheung

Yellow daughter in a white world.

Balancing between tradition and old.

In a world of apple pie, cheerleaders and teenagers,

who are so so very bold.

Our lives referring to a lunar calendar.

We make moon cakes in late fall.

While other dishes and foods make other days,

some I can’t even recall.

My Mom and Dad was always ready,

with a fable and a story to tell.

Like why we wrapped spiced pork in lotus leaves.

Tasty treats, that tantalize and triggers my memory well.

Those stories have become faint memories now.

Wisps of smoke that escape my mind,

Try as I might to grasp them,

Only to disappear in time.

American School in the morning,

Chinese late at night.

I remember walking home when it was dark.

Illuminated only by the street light.

One foot in each culture,

Calligraphy, history, and folk dance.

I tackled learning to be American.

Seduced by its glorious trance.

You can be all, you can be! In this White Devils world.

My hair was long, black and straight.

What I wouldn’t give,

to trade it for big boobs and curls.

I tried to fit into this new world.

The one of red, white and blue.

And in doing so, Yellow daughter got lost.

And so I struggle to find who it is I am, and what really is true.

Obedient!, respectful!, “you better work hard, like a dog!”

Words ingrained by Ah Mah, Ah Bah. If only they could see how far I’ve come.

Would they cheer for me? “rah, rah!”

Or would they of wished I were a son?

It took losing myself, to want to find it again.

I try to remember the dishes, The herbal remedies and more.

Despite how gross they were;

I drank them and what they were made for.

50 years later, I’ve finally found my voice……

This beautiful mixture of the 2.

Yellow daughter has become a fusion,

A strange,

new,

interesting hue.