When I first learned that my last name was an imperial dynasty

A whirlwind of pride unleashed above me

Because somewhere between the line of feeling Asian American

I loved being Chinese

But somewhere else between the lines of acceptance and comfort

I hated my identity

When I was four,

I realized being “Chinese”

would burden me

When I was five

I opened my silver thermos

and all eyes were staring at me

When I was six

Someone criticized my brown almond shaped eyes

So I looked in a mirror and examined mine

When I was seven

I watched Disney

and saw no one who looked like me

When I was eight

People stereotyped me as smart and unathletic

And projected me as their “second choice”

When I was nine

A girl told me my *chi-pao

Was the ugliest thing she’d seen

When I was ten

I dropped out of Chinese School

‘cause learning Chinese was pointless for me

When I was eleven

Someone called me Ching Chong Mei-lee

When I was twelve

I desperately wanted to leave a culture that destroyed me

Because let me tell you that embracing my Chinese

Was so hard for me

For twelve years I was ashamed of my nationality

And for twelve years I was trapped between two discrete worlds

But let me tell you that when you call me a

GOOK!  CHINK! SESAME EYES!

That those derogatory words bear heavy significance

Because “chink” is the hulking sound of enslaved “gooks” piecing together the continental railroad

So when I was 13

Someone told me to “go back to China”

Because I defended my nationality

But when I was 14

I fully accepted the honor of being Chinese

When I was 15

I became infuriated with stereotypes held against Asians

Because “lack of opportunity” isn’t a valid excuse in a country that boasts diversity   

Now that I’m 16

I’ve grown to be proud of being Chinese