Tuesday, May 13, 2008

recurring themes probably have some underlying reasons.

i went to Manzanar today
and i tried to connect with my roots
but, can i when i don’t even know my family’s history?

a lady accosted me in the gift shop bathroom.
she proceeded to tell me her family history
back to her Issei grandfather. i was silent
because i didn’t know mine.
where was my family interned?
well, some were in Utah right?
that’s why we got those Mormon JA cousins.
that's why we're all scattered.
i know my grandfather fought in WWII
but was he in the 442nd? pretty sure no.
maybe i’ll just buy this book in the gift shop on how to make sushi.
(because that’s what internment is all about? - thanks commercialism)

authenticity. what does that mean?
who passes these judgments?
why do i have to earn my place
while others are handed it.
sorry i don’t speak Japanese.
sorry I don’t arrange flowers, pour tea, go to jtown all the time,
watch anime, listen to j-pop, or whatever you define me against.
no i don’t look like you. yes my best friends are not asian.
but fuck you very much, this is my community too.

who are you to call me white/-washed? how dare you define my identity?
telling me what’s asian and what’s not.
if anything, i fucking embody the JA community: hyper-assimilation.
so who made you a fucking cultural authority?
the worst part is i believe it.
its bad enough we have to compete as a collective in these oppression olympics
do we really need to judge our own?
authenticity? “you got to own it”.
oh okay.

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