“A Former Immigrant Juvenile's Feelings and Views on Race and Color in America”
You must login to vote
*(This sonnet more or less summarizes my memories and feelings of growing up in the South in America as a half-white, half-Vietnamese boy raised by an African-American, soldier step-father and a Vietnamese mother during the 1970's era after emigrating from South Vietnam as the Vietnam War still raged on.).
During the '70's, deep in the South,
I was white but raised black by a black man.
As a boy, I have watched the Ku Klux Klan
on the news—and was frightened as a youth
who was “black.” In those times, it was uncouth
and a mark of disgrace to be less than
the child of a white mother and white man:
even back then I felt that racist truth.
Two-score years have passed and I’m still confused,
troubled, and unclear as to what or how
I should be: am I white—or “black” (abused
by my black "dad," I relate to him now—.)?
It’s joyless being me—unhinged like this:
but feeling more black, I hate prejudice.