4 Poems

When I Was Growing Up- Wong writes about a young Chinese girl in America. She talks about the things she is proud of and the things she is ashamed of. She wants to be white, clean, fit in...She despises her Chinese culture. She sees that as her oppression. This is a perfect example of Cudd's research about oppression by choice. Cudd argues that society constructs oppression and the oppressed reinforce it by allowing themselves to feel like they they deserve to be oppressed because they are in some way different. She is allowing all of the parts she hates about herself and her culture continue to fight against her. Instead of embracing her beauty and traditions, she sees them as obstacles. Going back to our presentation about Culture, this piece is similar to the one we had the class read about the Asian American women. They succumb to the norms and stereotypes the county bestows upon them and instead of fighting against these unfair claims, they just go right along with it. So does Wong's character here. We even talked in our presentation about grouping smaller cultures together by geographic location and appearances. There is a part in the poem where she says "when I was growing up, people would ask if I were Filipino, Polynesian, Portuguese." She doesn't even carry her own identity of Chinese, she is simply bunched together with other non-white populations. This is so sad because Philippines have different culture to China to Japan, etc. and every time we group people together like that, we are disregarding all the differences in the separate cultures, robbing them of their individual beauties.

The Bridge Poem- Rushin's character is tired of being used. She feels like the token black person, the communicator and fitting all of the stereotypes bestowed upon her and her group. I can't relate to Rushin. I have never been the token person for any group really. I can sympathize with her and see her pain in trying to connect everyone else by being everyone else's bridge. I just hope besides feeling these emotions, she acts on them and remembers to think about her own journey. She says it, but she needs to actually take those steps to freeing herself. It goes back to oppression by choice in a way. Once she disconnects herself as the bridge for others, she can start building her own for her own future.

And when you leave, take your pictures with you- the first thing that came to mind when this poem was read out loud was that image of the ltook a little girl in I think it was Vietnam. It was right after a raid and the little girl was on fire, running away from the napalm, crying and screaming for her mother. The photographer picture of Kim Phuc, and then only after he got his treasure which was sure to win him a Pulitzer Prize, did he throw his water on her searing wounds. Nick Ut, American reporter and photographer, got Kim to an American hospital in Saigon, where she made a full recovery. This piece reminded me of Kim because Nick took his picture, became famous, but also saved her life. Carrillo in this poem seems to show a little resentment to the photographers of the world who are trying to reveal the truth to the blind. I don't think it is all bad to want to present what is happening overseas to others. I can see what she is feeling in terms of credibility and reasoning for doing things. People ultimately do everything they can for themselves. Even acts of kindness can have ulterior motives. We want to help the orphans and the homeless, but we also want to make it our facebook profile picture so people can see what good we are doing with our time. I do it too. I would like to be able to say that it is completely selfless and I don't do it at all for the glory. I try not to, but when others see what you are doing and praise you for it, it is very difficult to be humble. I have countless pictures of orphans, homeless people, hungry, etc. that I unfortunately never helped. My photos are not pulitzer prize worthy or anything but when others see them, they see that I and others are trying to help. Oh what good things you are doing. Oh, God is pleased. Oh, you should be so proud of yourself... No. I don't want to be proud. I just want to help. But even Kim and Jo see people like me as a threat and as the bad guy. We just want our pictures, a few hours with the less fortunate and then we are gone. What Jo doesn't know is that I have a very special place in my heart for all that I have witnessed and helped. Nick saved Kim's life. Now she has a family and a life. I can't say I saved anyone's life, but I know that some remember me and I remember all of them. I just hope we are helping in the right way.

I help because-
I help but we're not oppressed. white, middle-class, heterosexual females.
So am I helping because I am privileged?
Mommy and Daddy always taught me to treat others the way you want to be treated.
Do I help because I feel bad, because I can and I think I should?
I am an able woman with two strong hands and willing heart.
Am I an ally because I am pained when I see others being mistreated or struggling for unfair reasons?
They are my friends.
I am not sick, but I am still in the fight against cancer.
You look at race, gender, sexuality, age, intelligence...
but never see passion, love, desire for peace, happiness, tranquility. heart.