letter to confucius
spoken word piece
Originally written for Ethereal, a 2018 art exhibition showcasing Asian American artists in New York, this piece eventually became 3rd place winner at the ROAR Story Slam Chicago 2019. An excerpt of this piece will be featured in author J.S. Park’s next book!
Dear Confucius,
who the fuck are you dude?
I’m just tryna figure out how I know you
How you been passed down generations
and you’re somehow a part of this
celebration of a feast called being Asian.
See I, tried to google your manifestations
and you still remain kinda vague
But broken Google translates
a phrase or two that say,
“reflect on the past”
“recognize the new” and
“know your place”
Ever since I was a kid
I asked my parents where we got these rules from
waiting for the oldest to eat first
bowing to ancestors,
the strict focus on education..
They told me these values are Confucian
I have questions cuz
I’ve always been a curious kid and
when it comes to culture, I’m only part Korean.
There’s a lot of emphasis on the ability to study and memorize
I’m just wondering when that converted to high rates of suicide
It’s very Confucian to focus on filial piety
It trickles down every hierarchy
But what’s with fobby dads and their twinkie sons
beating up younger ones
Then demanding things like “respect me, 나는 HYUNG” ?
Are we gonna talk about the “woman’s place” ?
There’s so much saving face - instead of honesty
I guess If the shit stinks
we can cover it with rhinoplasty
Look I’m not judging, but I am questioning
We call it phenomena but I call it surviving or
a Han thing.
Dear Confucius,
I don’t really know if you’re to blame
I’m just tryna unfold the fragments of my heritage
Cause these snippets are what I’ve inherited
And just cause you don’t tell me stories
doesn’t mean I don’t feel the pain of the ones before me
The secrecy, the silence, and the shame.
In the name’ of honor and social harmony
We are taught to suppress our own inadequacies
Know your place.
Respect the elderly.
Obedience is key.
then I wish someone would explain to me
The tragedy that was entrusting our authorities during
Sewol, April 2014.
Maybe my frustration is a bit misplaced
Maybe me and the rest of us 2.0s are just a LIL displaced
Maybe you can’t spell ignore without assimilate
But when people laugh at my dad cuz of his accent
Or when I notice I can’t be chummy to teachers like my white friends
When I’m unresponsive and Teacher asks “do u speak English?”
Instead of considering that I’m shy and it’s the 2nd grade
I can’t help but to relate
Dear Confucius
Maybe we’re distant relatives cuz,
I feel like long lost cousins once-removed from these Confusionz.
Maybe I only see in broken pieces
But this experience is fully in tact
And I’m piecing together the facts:
“Reflect on the past” and ”recognize the new”
I think these values are actually beautiful.
I’m just wondering if we got tired of being colonized
And the way to survive was to colonize our own lives.
‘Know your place’
These things back at home affect me too
Even if I grew up in the States
And this IS my place
Korean-American
Imperfect, unapologetic, learning to take up space
I am oceans of my ancestors’ grief;
The shoreline for my parents’ sacrificed dreams.
An in-between crevice of beauty and broken
I am fragments and pieces yet complete in these hyphen moments
Dear Confucius
I’m just tryna figure out how I know you
How all these Confusions have been passed down generations
But I welcome you to this celebration of a feast called being Asian.
