I am a privileged white girl.
I come from a middle class family.
I have never known poverty.
I am not a child of divorce.
I haven't suffered abuse.
I am a privileged white girl
and the world tells me 
I have nothing to say
because I’ve never felt pain
the way they have.
I am a privileged white girl.
The blood of the Nisei
does not flow through my veins.
My skin is the same color as the conquerors,
not the oppressed.
I am a privileged white girl
and, yes, I am thankful
but that does not make a good battle cry.
It does not make for inspiring poetry.

I watch the evening news and hear about
rockets fired on Israel,
swastikas spray painted on synagogue,
riots in the streets of France,
and I remember:
I am a Jewish girl.

My white skin is not enough to protect me
from my dark hair and crooked nose.
The blood of those interned
in concentration camps
flows through my veins.
I picture the numbers tattooed
on my great-grandmother's arm
and all I can think about
are the bruises and broken bones
that disappeared from her body
but never her mind.

The world tells me that
I am a privileged white girl
and I have nothing to say.
The world forgets that I am Jewish.
The Star of David hanging around my neck
paints a target on my back.
The United Nations maintains
that my homeland
has no right to exist.
The prayerbook I carry
sends a signal to the world
that my blood is cheap.

I am a privileged white girl
I don’t bear the burden
of slanted eyes or brown skin.
I don’t hear the sound of
railroad construction ringing in my ears
or feel the lurching of slave ships beneath my feet.
I am a privileged white girl.
So I am told
that the struggle of my people
means nothing.
I am told
to leave my history behind.
Having pristine porcelain skin means
the world gets to easily erase
all the crimes it has committed against my people.

I am a privileged white girl.
I am a Jewish girl.
Though the world tells me
I have nothing to say
I will speak up and fight anyway.