it is the twenty first century
and the world still seems to be stuck in white and black,
pitting one against the other,
separate in culture,
yet inseparable in their interactions,
and it seems maddening that equality is still denied
that ferguson and freddie gray was even allowed,
that a texan police officer was allowed to singlehandedly wreck a pool party,
that the world was even allowed to forget that there is but one race,
the human race.

color tv has been around since the 1960s,
color photography since 1861,
and the world is still stuck in black and white,
slaves waging war against privilege,
consuming america in this fight for freedom,
but who has forgotten?
who has forgotten that blacks are underprivileged,
that whites are not?
and who has remembered everyone else?

confrontation is something we've never been good at
duck your head,
appease the right people,
you are seen but not heard,
obey your elders,
be the good little rule follower you've been born to be.

white people wear the badge of privilege
like they've never been without it before,
like its the most natural thing in the world.
black people wear the badge of being without privilege
like it's the worst ordeal the world,
like its the most natural thing in the world.
but at least they're remembered,
at least they're acknowledged,
at least they are center stage,
known factors,
helped,
wanted.

if the world is black and white,
then where does that leave the reds, browns, the yellows?
stuck in a never ending loop of not privilege but not underprivileged either,
left to rot with the forgotten,
left growing up in a world that expects us to get good grades,
that expects a whole range of different personalities to fall,
to fall in love with math,
for an entire population to be doctors,
for kids to be stuck in harsh, conservative homes,
for me no speaka good engrish,
for karate kid to be fuckin’ real.

but there would be no pressure for good grades,
if it weren't for a reputation to uphold -
a reputation made, not by ourselves, but by everyone else,
i cried the day i got my only b+,
and vowed never to forgive the bastard
that made me fail the expectations hoisted on my shoulders,
perpetuated by kids with c averages,
for making me fail to uphold my honor for the first time in my life.
and i must confess, i always lied when the teacher asked
what my favorite subject was,
after all, it was never quite strange - expected really -
if the asian kid was enraptured by math
and i must confess, math was never quite my favorite subject,
sure, it brought me comfort, with the ease in which i solved problems,
but that was expected, nothing special,
it's nothing special when a little chinese girl understands math.
and there would be no doctors
if not for an expectation of success,
an expectation of richness,
i went through a stage where i was convinced i had to be a doctor,
and felt ashamed of my squeamishness,
of my hate of visible blood,
because what's a ching supposed to do but become a doctor?
and there is no harsh conservative homes,
only parents that wish the best for their children,
that wish to imbue the richness that is tradition in their children,
lessons learned through having the longest recorded history in the world,
knowledge bought through the lives of our ancestors,
pride in being who we are, in having such pristine honor,
to this day i have never understood the pitying looks i received,
as i was asked how i dealt with conservative parents,
or how it was to have a tiger mom,
no, no, no, no, no, my mom is the sweetest, most accepting in the world
cue the knowing, fake smiles
as if i was lying to save face,
as if i have to save face a lot.
and there is no bad english,
only learning english,
because your english would be bad too
if you grew up with a different grammar structure,
different writing system,
different characters,
your english would be bad too,
the most i've faced is mispronouncing long words,
but when has anyone ever believed me
when i say i had the best grammar in my class,
when i had the highest score in honors english,
when i started reading high school level books in elementary school,
when my refuge had always been in shakespeare, poetry -
this clumsy language called english?
and there would be no karate kid
if it weren't for hollywood casting asians into their neat, little box,
nice, old, well-meaning martial arts master,
yes, because that's all we're worth,
yes, our life goal is to teach you whites and blacks to execute kung fu moves.
when i first heard whoopi goldberg speak,
i shouted at my computer in camaraderie.
where is our gainan?
where is the hope for little asian kids,
sitting in front of the tv,
waiting, waiting for an asian character that wasn't a martial arts expert,
where's our,
gather round you'all,
there's a chinese man on television, and he ain't no kung fu master?

our plight doesn't diminish those of the blacks or anyone else
but it is tragic in that it is not recognized
that we're thought to be able to take care of ourselves - always.
i went to an awards ceremony the other day
and half the scholarships were blacks only,
and the other half were tailored to whites,
black after black after black, some of whom, never cared for their grades
as long as they could have a good time
white after white after white
awarded for community service
awarded for their interest in the military
awarded for helping others,
awarded for not having an obligation to stay at home and take care of their parents
awarded for their culture.
there were two hispanics, two foreign exchange students, one chinese recognized,
at least it wasn't math,
but a close second in science isn't exactly what we're looking for.

we've had color photography for over a hundred fifty years,
color television for fifty five,
if this world was so incapable of advancing
past black and white,
you'd think we'd know by now,
you'd think the only colors people cared about wouldn't be black and white.