“But you’re Asian?" Is what they said,

When I told them I was bad at math.

As if my race had anything to with my ability to finish your homework.

But my culture is deep,

It is rich with history and tradition.

Yet all you see is my ability to perform a simple calculation.

You shame us until you need us.

You despise our eating utensils.

You mock our eyes and the simplicity in our face.

“They all look the same!” You say,

But you should really take a look at your own race.

But when you can’t figure out Pythagorean’s Theorem,

Or calculate velocity and trajectory.

We become the escape goat,

The human computer that will spit out the answer.

But I am more than that.

I am witty

I am loud

And I am ambitious.

I don’t work at a nail salon,

 Or play eight instruments.

I don’t speak “Asian”

And I’m actually not Chinese… Or Japanese,

And I. Hate. Math…Shocker, I know.

But I’m okay with that

I work hard for what I have,

My achievements are not based on where my family comes from.

You cannot write off my success do to ethnicity,

Because I am a new breed of Asian youth.

A youth that does not live by stereotypes.

I am a great driver

I love my dark almond shaped eyes,

My pigmented skin and black hair,

My heritage and culture.

 And despite my cultures portrayal in modern media

With comedies playing off of my peoples suffering,

Appropriation of our sacred traditions

(Take that kimono off)

I am proud to be Asian.

But I will not let it define me.