American?

I have experienced

the feeling of being Japanese,

British, Filipino

in America. But have yet to learn

how to be American and 

Japanese, British, Filipino.

In boxed lunches

ramune, manju, squid

I am Japanese,

and American girls hold their noses,

Whisper that I’ll infect them with my chopsticks 

At the age of ten my sister

who gets tanner by the day

asked to only eat “American food”

at school, she is American

As a child, my mother, half Filipino

couldn’t swim in some pools

during the summer she was

Too brown. Too Filipino looking

She tells me to be thankful

I look American 

A man asking my father

if he was from Australia.

Asked how long we’d be in America for,

congratulated me on overcoming my accent.

Sometimes I feel lucky 

that my voice sounds American.

History teachers preach 

“America is a mixing pot.”

Then why do I never feel

American. When eating my food

or standing with my family

or introducing my father

Maybe American means I’m allowed

to be British and Japanese and Filipino,

working in tandem. But why then

does straying from the cultural norm 

fingers point un-American