When I write my name in my assignments, I write: Sophia Bautista. In most American legal documents, it’s written that way, too. On my passport, though, when I visit the Philippines, my name comes like this: BAUTISTA (last name), SOPHIA (first name). Which is more fitting because as the eldest daughter of immigrants, I inherited…
I cannot explain nai kham vao thikhony husuk. When huachai khongkony drops, and chakkauaan aemn totan khon, wallowing khuaamhen ohk henchai pensingthi khonyyak hed. Options appear more cham kad nai ve la chao mirai khuaam tunten, but bo mi phai to share with dud phova phuakkhao bokhaochai. Pretending can only paithoeng tonnan, bomi rai strength…
Summers were once my own.Now I spend themChasing someone else’s dreamsTo fulfill unspoken obligations… Unspoken obligations which bind meLike the feet of my ancestorsBack in my homeland China. “Become a doctor,” they say,As if there is no alternative. But didn’t they come to America,The land of the free,In the pursuit of liberty? Liberty’s served best…
Come yonderTo the land of opportunitiesWhere the brave, free, strongDwell.Come yonder, to the land of the westWhere modern, progressive, democratic thoughtPersists. Come hither and experience the hierarchy ofRace and class and sex. Some are born lucky,They are the kingsWho reap rewardsFrom the pawns’Labor of early dawns. The place where the dirt-poorCan rise to the top?Or the…
one two three four five six seven eight nine Finally I know which language I think in.
Prologue Not everyone goes through this. It could be quite a distorting experience, rooting half of your life in one country, and settling in another. You would always imagine, what if? What if I left earlier? What if I stayed? Will life turn out to be different? The illusion that people often get when they…