Yellow

Huang is the surname of my ancestors,

Title of Emperors, River and Earth,

Embedded in my being from the warmth of womb,

Huang translates to yellow.

Yellow carries the lives of my lineage,

Through trials of resilience during war,

Surviving on soybeans and water,

Huang sheltered their women in forests,

Hiding from the violent, invading corps.

Grieving the stolen life of beautiful sister,

Yellow held prayers for relief,

And a safe pillow to sleep,

Parting from village and trees,

Traversing oceans and sea,

Landing in the isolation of cities.

Yellow is the faith in a new day,

A bold risk walking amongst strange ways,

Yellow is the quieting of tongue,

The discomfort of being shunned,

Alienation became protection.

Yellow mixed with white complicated my American,

A dichotomy of being,

Burn of bleach on scalp,

Yellow furthered from herself,

A juvenile reckoning of failed assimilation.

Yellow found belonging in the margins,

The comforting return to mother’s soup,

Fingerprints softly folding dumpling skins,

Huang placed oranges on the altar,

Soothing the borders of my grandparents’ lacerations.

Huang carries the knowing gaze of elders,

An unspoken language of care,

Immense sacrifices for love,

Yellow is the shine of my mother’s black hair.

Huang is the journey of family,

Woven into the foundations of this land,

Yellow envelopes spirit,

A shared song of being hue-man.