Hapa

I don’t quite fit in,

not 100% Asian,

nor 100% “American”.

 

Call me, “Hapa”,

Hawaiian for mixed,

half-breed,

bi-racial,

rejected, not accepted,

unwanted,

no tribe to call my own,

all I want really is to belong,

a place, I can call home.

 

I live in the land in-between,

Like the Hebrews during the Exodus,

wandering in the desert,

looking for comfort and rest,

searching for my identity,

only to have others say quizzically,

“You don’t like me?!”;

 

Not White enough to fit in with the mainstream,

nor Asian enough to be a minority,

 I’m constantly teased,

not comfortable being just me,

 

I’m confounded,

conflicted,

cursed,

caught in a cultural cross-fire,

who will leave me alone?

Better yet, who will accept me as their own?

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
My community

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