When I was in undergrad I went to a Black Student Union meeting and was the only yellow face there. I wrote about it. I call this piece "Black Just Like You". I hope that it depicts how I think we as blacks and Asians need to get past squabbling and get on with talking. We'd be surprised by what we have to say and how we feel. Oppression can do that to you though. It's called hopelessness and frustration. By the way, I love being Asian....

BLACK JUST LIKE YOU


His eyes told me I did not belong-
and then his mouth confirmed it.
His comments echoed in my mind-
"you don't belong here".
I've heard that song before,
but I thought to myself, this man,
this man who just told me
I did not belong here,
has he not heard that song too?
So I'm at this Black Student Union meeting
because the flyers indicated that
all are welcome to attend,
But I am beginning to think that was a front,
as demonstrated by my lone
non-black face accompanied
by a hundred glares and a thousand
comments under breaths.
I leaned forward to answer his claim-
"just like the Korean shop owner said
in 'Do the Right Thing'-
I'm black just like you"
And you'd think I was at
a comedy club on center stage,
the way that the laughter overtook the room,
Apparently I am a crazy mutha****..
But I am black just like you,
or at least more black than white
according to this society's perceptions.
I may have come over to the United States
under different circumstances
but there are people who look like me
living in the ghettos on the same blocks
as people who look like you,
struggling to find employment
and where that next meal is coming from.
I'm black just like you because we sit
side by side beneath the table
that contains the American Dream,
glancing aimlessly at the crumbs that are
discarded by those that are more privileged.
You see, they may not look at me
the same way they glare at you,
but they still look nonetheless,
You are the savage and I am the intruder
You speak ebonics and I speak bad English
with a thick accent.
You supposedly cannot keep a job
and I am taking all the good ones
Your worth is in your ability to hit a jump shot
while mine is in my ability
to market the newest cell phones.
Our storied histories littered with one-dimensional expectations and proverbial lines
that we're not meant to cross.
Your history marked by slave revolts
and lunch counter sit-ins
while mine is by exclusion acts
and internment camps-
do you see where I am going with this,
our identical quests for civil and equal rights.
You see, I am black like you
because black in this country
means being oppressed,
being discriminated against,
and being hated for being darker.
I am black like you because we both
own those shoes and know how
to walk that route.
Who's had more, who's got it worse,
at some point the wool over our eyes
becomes a burden
And we realize the similarities
of our experiences
And when I say that I am black like you,
it is not because I am ashamed to be Asian
I say that I am black like you
because we have both got our hands
and noses pressed against the window
of equality because we are both
looking up at that table that contains the fabled "American Dream"
Plotting, thinking, brainstorming-
determining a way to gain a piece of that pie.
I say that I am black like you
not to disrespect your blackness.
I say that I am black like you
because we have been speaking the same language
for years and not noticed it
I say that I am black like you
because there is strength in numbers,
because like you I am tired of lurking
beneath the lines of equality.
I say that I am black like you
because I look at you, see the hopelessness
oozing out of the lines on your forehead
and then realize that I know
that same hopelessness.
And then I sat back, red in the face
from speaking my mind, and waited
I waited for his response
to my barrage of words and as he leaned forward,
making eye contact with as many of his fellow club members as possible, I could not help but notice.
I could not help but notice that his eyes
were frantically searching for a rebuttal,
a comment, response.
But then, those same eyes that told me
I did not belong earlier
suddenly looked accepting
And then his mouth opened-
mind you the same mouth that told me moments
earlier that I did not belong
I expected the worst- a demand for me
to leave the room, a comment about
how we are not the same or that I could
never know the black experience
but his face did not look defeated,
instead it looked enlightened.

SPONSOR