Pakistani American – prettypinkchai

I stand with you
When I was a child in Sunday school and my peers said
I was the color of poop
Little did I know how deep my skin color meant to me
When my mom was speaking in our native tongue, Urdu, and someone said to speak English
Little did I know how much my culture meant to me
When I was told I wouldn’t find a husband because I stay out in the sun
Little did I know how much my skin color didn’t matter to the right one
When I grew up and felt like a novelty
Little did I know what my ethnicity meant to me
When I heard my fellow South Asians were beaten and told to go back from there they “came from”
Little did I know what home meant to me

All of the struggles we are facing, and some more than others, are sad and sometimes brutal
I have learned that even in the worst of times
humanity can get worse
I have learned to embrace my skin color, heritage, and culture,
despite the eurocentric preferences within my culture
Despite the hardships faced in this country
I can only hope that we can feel so confident in our own skin and feel worthy of love and respect, and that we receive it in return
I stand with you

– Sophia

For a more serious blog post and in honor of International Women’s day, it felt about right to catharsis this poem about my life as a women with multiple international cultures. It’s probably not the most popular opinion of cultures in general, but it’s my real talk session tonight. And don’t get me wrong, I love certain elements of my international cultures!

I also want to shout out to all the women who are going through a lot lately. Stay strong! ❤

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The Crescent Moon with Red Stripes

Sweet, tender memories I hold in my youth
With grandpa and grandma, mom, dad, and sis
Gatherings of togetherness and bliss
Learning our love for the red stripes
and our origins with the mysterious crescent moon
We grew to embrace this but perhaps too soon
For years of laughter and joy faded
And those sweet memories became jaded
When mom changed my world that day
Giving others new life’s way
New faces I met, new lives with new stories
New brothers and sisters for me to hold dear
Little did I know my worst tale was near

He said it was love, that it could be real
But I felt deep within that it could not be true
For our blood ran the same, it flows deep and dark
Still he persisted, forever leaving a gashing mark
That only washed away when I met my true love
Yet it will linger on as a memory to rise above

What still remains makes my stance bewildered
Why do they still reach out to him
Knowing once what had transpired and choosing to filter
It wasn’t a game or a willful ordeal
But a tear to my being, wrapped up in zeal
Perhaps days have passed and that is the reason
That I must stay quiet even though it is piercing

This tale runs the same
In different ways and different flames
You must face alone the pain
While the perpetrators still gain

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Oh dear blood of our own
our brothers and sisters
You bring these twisted ideals
And expect us to kneel
As if man stands above all
Yet still the scum deserve to fall
How can you turn a blind eye
To my mother so strong
How can you choose these men
Over us women done wrong

The green and white flag
Swaying with the crescent moon and star
Should stay where you left it
It’s caused enough scars
For here in this land
Us women take what’s ours
For here in this land
The wicked must cower
For here in this land
our voice is heard.

xoxo,

-S

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – — – – – – – – – – – The Crescent Moon with Red Stripes

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The Crescent Moon with Red Stripes