On Being Thai

A little slam poem on re-defining what it means to be Thai. 

When I was young, I never saw the difference

That apparently existed between yellow and white,

Of what you cannot control, the land in which you are born.

In a time where magazines and the media tells children who they are what they are who they should be

Looking at the chit chat rooms, I was supposed

To be “passive” and  a “whore”

says the World Wide Web

And so every day, passing through the motions,  wild commotion,

People looking me up an down, and I trying not to frown

Keep smiling, don’t be a clown.

Because you’re going to lose face.

Well I’m sorry. But there must be more than being passive,

cooking, cleaning, trying to remain hidden

More than writing hidden letters

at the people behind such hate

Hoping the torn words would float to the sky

More than flowers blossoming

Fed from silent tears

That drip to the ground

More than  “I love you long time.”

More than sleepless nights, long flights

Cute accents, new heights,

I am not something you conquer.

To that girl who said, “In Indonesian the word ‘Thai’ means ‘shit'”

To the countless smirks, the ignorant jerks who still

Grab the nearest girl, all the girls the same

Because in their eyes every Thai is the same.

How dare you try to box me into a cage of characteristics,

Take a mirror, what do you see?

Because what you see is what I see in me.

The most basic truth is written in our DNA,

We are  passions, dreams, hopes, ambitions, humans.

Change the world, why can’t we?

And so now the curtain closes,

“Liberty” and “freedom” in a world where nationalities need to be hidden

This is a battle of which you have begun.

Of the likes you have never seen, naught to none.

Let the fireworks light up the sky above,

Illuminate the world

We are Thai.

 

Copyrighted Yada Pruksachatkun

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