Identity Crisis
Poem by Keyona Fazli, illustration by Mallika Sunder
Tick the box labelled ‘OTHER’
too light to fit in the brown room
too dark to be considered white,
it’s ‘earthy’ and ‘olive’ they tell me but
what am I if not skin and bones,
a plaything for the masses
judged by eyes wide shut,
a soul deemed by the United States Consensus
category WHITE?
So how do I
tick the box labelled ‘OTHER’
bemused expressions and pruned lips
this statement alien,
dropping diamonds into sand,
setting up camp to watch
a fire burning
it’s national identity,
and so they tell me we are the same;
they had playgrounds and bicycles
I had heat stroke and pirated movies,
laughing at scabs and crying at books
read in the middle of the night,
the land of freedom and kids murdered
left and right.
If I am WHITE and not ‘OTHER’
tell me why
my person is stopped at airport security,
place of birth scoffed at,
eyes widening at a language foreign
and narrowing at a tongue sharp?
If I am WHITE and not ‘OTHER’
tell me why
my hair is plucked and my body detained
at corner shops and federal zones,
traditions misunderstood,
abrupt shock at your own
belonging to me
then mispronouncing it
and using ‘terrorist’ as an adjective?
If me myself and I can’t figure it out
then maybe you should let me
tick the box labeled ‘OTHER’
or give me my own goddamn box.
