Where are you 'really' from?

“What audacity I must have….” Ink, Acrylic, Collage, and Carving on Wood Panel. 8’ X 4’. 2012 by Latoya Hobbs

WHERE ARE YOU ‘REALLY’ FROM?

YOKO LEE GRINDEL, FINE ARTIST, SCHOOL OF THE ART INSTITUTE.

Where I’m from; No, where I’m REALLY from:

Are you familiar with body gripping traps? Victor conibear trap, specifically The kind that leave you Taffy stuck And In the grip of a claw machine like plucking up lifeless plush toys. Much like the grip of racial stereotypes.

You see, the wonderful thing about being Asian is I’m the socially acceptable fetish you’ve always wanted.

I’m the oil spill left on your shirt after you’ve cleared your fine china Leaving you belching and grabbing for more “Exotic you say; I love Chinese you say.”

My mother all but forgot her tongue. Trading it in for a lighter language. “English is for rich people.”

Her ignorance beams through the blackout curtains she calls skin.

I try to squeeze the blinds shut to keep that first squirt of light from permeating the rest of the room.

She opens her mouth once more and a beacon of ignorance crawls out her. The mountainous candle of a woman that outshined the sun.

- Assimilating the Mother-Land.

My mother feeds me spoonfuls of words I don’t understand Yes, I said spoonfuls because not every Asian country uses chopsticks

She shoved her yellowness into a white envelope licking the stamp to arrive to a family I have to use google translate to communicate with.