Back in Hong Kong

 And I'm back in Hong Kong. It's a long story. Someday I'll tell it. For now, I've been recently inspired to write poetry like stories. The first is my journey to figure out my racial identity. For the record. I am a biracial- white and black American woman. I was adopted by a white family and grew up in a predominantly white town, and for most of my education from K-12, I was either the only brown child in the school or one of 2. Later, I tried to identify with my black side and realised I couldn't. The best way I can describe it is to imagine a white person going into a black community and trying to be black. Who am I describes that journey from that point to where I am now.

Who Am I?

Who am I but a scared child in a big, big world

A small brown life surrounded by a sea of white, looking to connect

They smile, they welcome me into their home. They tell me I belong here.

Who am I, that small brown life looking for my place in the white puzzle

Are you like me? Will you look like me someday?

I am bigger and stronger. Yearning to understand.

Where are all the people like me?

I am unsure, uncertain, but determined

Who am I in this new place? New friends, old friends blending into the sea of white

Find a place, make it work, you are not like them

Who will I be when I leave this place? Where will I go?

Who am I, this young brown adult, navigating a new world

I see people like me, but are they? We don’t connect. We don’t fit. Why is that?

Survive, find a place to fit, and make it through just like you always do.

Until it’s finished, and it's time to move on to bigger and better things

Who am I in a whole new world? New faces, new friends, new places, and colors

People like me, accepting me in, and I go to the door and peer in.

But I cannot enter. I don’t fit in. This isn’t my home. I don’t understand. We match. It should work, but it doesn’t

I’m not them. I’m not part of the other side. I’m somewhere in between.

Who am I trying to be, that puzzle piece that looks right but doesn’t quite fit?

Straddling two worlds- looking like one but understanding the other, and standing on a line in the middle.

You tell me I belong here. You tell me I belong there. You…you… you!

Who am I? I’m not you. I’m not them. I am both of you. Understanding one. Fitting in with the other

Choosing to accept both. Standing strong. Standing firm. This is my place.

Who am I? 

I am me.

The 2nd poem came from my journey as a quiet introverted extrovert. I'm not really either one, but depending on the situation, I can be either one. But I used to tell people, it's not the loud people you need to be worried about. We all know what they think. It's the quiet ones. Because you have no idea. You would be amazed at how much you can learn about the people around you without needing to say a word.

The Quiet Ones

The quiet ones are shy and obedient, they say

They listen

They follow the rules

They never make waves

Or do they?

Loud, obvious, their opinions lay out for everyone to see.

Dangerous and scary. Loud and proud.

Leaders, bullies, popular or successful

These are the waves you see, fear, and admire.

These are the ones you notice

But those of us who are quiet

We live to blend in

You don’t know we’re here, but we see you

We listen. We observe. We know more than you think

But you never ask. You don’t see us.

And you should

The quiet ones are here

We are strong and we are resilient

We endured the loud ones. 

We persevered when you weren’t looking

Never turn your back on us.

Our waves are the ones you never saw coming.