May 112009
 

It was when we moved to the City
That it began – the leaving of my heart from yours

It was when I found my own course
That it seemed away from you I ran without pity

It was when I started succeeding
That you began to lose your way

It was when “I love you” became harder to say
That for a separation was my pleading

It was when your stress was so high
That you looked at them, those two-dimensional women

It was when you would ask me to dress more feminine
That every piece of my heart and soul would cry

It was when I realized the laughter between us had died
That there was nothing to be saved

It was when our attempts to “fix” it became depraved
That I learned we both to each other had lied

It was when the lies became too much
That I knew it was time to give up

It was when there was nothing left to take from our cup
That I could no longer bear your touch

It was when our simple conversations turned into arguments
That the yelling and slamming was only the tip of my anger

It was when we both began at each other to point a finger
That it was time to end the torments

It was when I cheated on you
That you felt the intensity

It was when all was lost in our beauty
That you finally knew

We were not meant to be…

-T
~May 10, 2009

May 082009
 

Tonight I was asked,
“So, Tara, where is your family located?”

I paused to consider what the question really meant;
I knew that was not the real question.

I responded,
“In Oregon. In the States.”

“Is the rest of your family in Japan, then?”
As I expected, he didn’t really want to know where my family is.

I replied,
“Well, I’m not Japanese. I’m adopted and was born in Korea.”

Inside my head, I am screaming,
“WTF? How does this always come up in a conversation with me?”

Then, I thought to myself,
Why does it matter? Why do I get so worked up? What is it that really bothers me?

“You have issues,” I have been told by a beloved colleague.
“We all have issues,” I responded politely.

The difference is that we always have to discuss MY issues when a question is raised
About where I am from, who is my family, why am I Asian and only call myself American…

To me, asking this kind of question is the same as me asking someone to talk about their most sensitive issues in a casual, nonchalant, “I’m totally insensitive to your feelings” kind of way.

I know that is not necessarily the intent, but what right does anyone have to ask or assume that when I say,

“I am American. My family is from and is in Oregon.”

That I should be saying,

“I was born in Korea and I was adopted, so I don’t speak Korean. No, I don’t know my birth family, and I don’t know much about Korea.”

If a white man says,
“I am American. I’m from New York.”

The question that generally follows is:
“Oh what part? The City or Upstate?”

No one would think to ask,
“Were you born there? Is your family there? Where are you or your family from originally? Does your family speak that language still?” with underlying assumptions that he doesn’t belong, that he must have another reason for saying that he’s from New York and calling himself an American.

Why is it different for me?

Why is being Asian on the outside not freely acceptable to be considered American?
Why is being Asian on the outside an invitation to question origins, history and in general one’s existence?
Why is being Asian a free pass to consciously or subconsciously make a point that I am not from the dominant, colonial culture and therefore, I must have another reason for passing myself off as “American”?
Why is being Asian questioned at all?

Why is being adopted still not accepted?
Why is being adopted still an awkward topic, while being homosexual or transgender is less so?
Why is being adopted still something to be pitied or forced to be grateful about?

I suppose I will never escape the questions
I will never stop people from asking…will I?

Acceptance…peace…issues.

-T
~May 7, 2009

 Posted by at 06:52  Tagged with:
May 072009
 

Love is the passionate search for a truth other than your own; and once you feel it, honestly and completely, love is forever. Every act of love, every moment of the heart reaching out, is a part of the universal good: it’s a part of God, or what we call God, and it can never die.
Gregory David Roberts in _Shantaram_

May 062009
 

Always someone new
Enters in this life I lead

Always someone asks
“Where are you from?” immediately

Always someone really means
Not what is your nationality, but

Always someone wants to know
Where were you born?

As if it should make a difference
As if it matters what are the answers to the questions:

In what country was I born?
What language do I or do not speak?
What color is the skin of my parents?

As if the assumption is, it’s okay to ask a perfect stranger:

Oh, you don’t speak Korean?
Oh, you don’t have Korean parents?
Oh, have you ever been to Korea?
Oh, do you know your real parents?

As if the same questions were asked to them:

What is your family heritage?
You don’t know?
You haven’t learned the language of your native culture and country?
You haven’t found out how or why your family left their native land?
You have no connection to your origins?

Would it still be okay?

Always people think it is their right
To pry into my life within minutes of meeting

Always someone shows discomfort
With a response of, “That’s cool.”

Always someone feels awkward
When I tell them the truth

As if to say being adopted is a tragedy
As if to say I’m to be pitied or considered lucky
As if to say:

“I’m sorry for your situation, but that’s cool someone took you in”
with not so many words

So, these are my words:

It’s none of your business where I am from.
It’s none of your business what language I speak.
It’s none of your business if my parents have different colored skin.

It’s none of your business to know if I am adopted or not because,
it’s not your right to ask me personal questions beyond the country of my nationality
or the State in which I grew up
or my occupation

And, I do not want your pity.

I am American. I grew up in Oregon. I am a university teacher.

When we are friends, I will tell you more.

-T
~May 5, 2009

Apr 302009
 

Every day brings me closer
to seeing you.
Every day brings me closer
to touching you.

Every day takes me further
from knowing what to do
Every day takes me further
from deciding about you

Should we be in the same place?
Should we be daily face-to-face?
Should we be thinking about the future?
Should we be letting this relationship fully mature?

Some days I feel we are on the same page
Some days I feel you are hard to fully gauge
Some days I don’t know how to be apart
Some days I don’t know how to express all that is in my heart

Every day brings me closer
Every day takes me further
Should we be always together?
Some days I don’t know how I feel.

-T
~April 29, 2009

Apr 262009
 

You don’t deserve this poem,
But because we once shared a home
Because we once shared a heart
I need to express our coming apart.

For years I denied the truth
For years I tried to be your Ruth
For years I hid the pain
For years I accepted I would never again feel the same.

Slowly my identity faded
Slowly my attitude became jaded
Slowly my confidence dwindled
Slowly my love for you could not be kindled.

The more you said you tried
The more I cried
The more you said you would get better
The more I felt my heart become deader

With every look at an unknown her
With every comment for me to dress sexier
With every night I slept alone
With every eye that would roam

I died, piece by piece inside
From everyone I chose the pain to hide
Because I wanted to respect you
Because I thought it was the right thing a wife should do

Now, I wonder what it was all for
Now, I’m glad we’re not together anymore
Now, though I would probably still do it all again
Now, I know it’s the best thing that it came to an end.

-T
~April 26, 2009

Apr 252009
 

The days are passing slowly
As I wonder how it will be

to see you
to touch you
to hold you
to just be with you

My heart feels torn
As I wonder what the future holds

should I stay
should I go
will you stay
will you come

It seems endless as I consider
Three months are left

to wonder
to ponder
to weigh
to convey

All that I feel.

-T
~April 25, 2009

Apr 182009
 

You’ve gone and I feel relief
Our time together was very brief
But filled with ups and downs
Sometimes I felt like I was going to drown

in your kisses
in our arguments
in your eyes
in our differences
in your arms
in our opposites

You said you really care about me
But how can that be?
I asked you, “What does that mean?”
For this was never what it may seem….

did we ever date?
did we ever have a relationship?
did you ever understand my heart wasn’t yours?
did you ever accept we could never really be?

You are gone now
I hope that somehow
All the pieces will mend
As we stay friends.

-T
~April 17, 2009

Apr 102009
 

They look
They stare
They smile
They hiss
They laugh
They propose
They walk with an air of importance

Am I just an object to them?
Am I just a vessel for pleasure to them?
Am I meant to be submissive to them?
Am I valued at all as a human being to them?

Some say it is culture.
Some say it is religion.
Some say it is the color of my skin.
Some say it is the slant of my eyes.
Some say it is just the way it is.

Am I to just ignore it?
Am I to just accept it?
Am I to condone it?
Am I to devalue my own humanity for it?

Insh’Allah, in God I trust, in Jesus’ name
I pray

For I am not just an object.
For I am not just a vessel of pleasure.
For I am not willing to be submissive due to my gender.
For I am a woman

Who values herself
Who celebrates her beauty
Who respects herself as a human being.

-T
~April 10, 2009

Apr 102009
 

There is a smile on my face
Put there by you

There is joy in my heart
Placed there by you

There are not adequate words to express
My feelings for you

How my heart aches to be
Next to you

How my body aches to be
Close to you

How my eyes ache to be
Gazing at you

-T
~April 10, 2009

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