To My Father Poem by Mary Wong

My father always complimented my English
The smile on his face when I spoke the language he could barely understand was unmatched
It hurt me inside to know that I will never be able to speak his mother tongue as well
I would never be able to greet those with my own skin,
never be able to say the words of my ancestors.

You came here with hopes of a new life, father,
but instead you aspired for a new identity,
as they watched you while you were trapped in the jail that is assimilation.
Not once did you look back, in the fear of losing your American identity.

But father, they will never stop.
They will never loosen their hands from around my neck

Until the color is drained from my skin

Until my culture is erased from existence

Until I look just like them

But, Baba, can't you see that I will never truly BE one of them
Baba, muje siruf yeh betai mai kaha se ayo
Baba, just tell me where I come from

You look up at me, in shock.
Please, you say,
Speak English.