I am from cast iron skillets, from Sriracha hot sauce, and eggs over easy.
I am from the red brick house on the hill with the American flag in the front. I am from the flower bushes in the back yard and the overgrown grass on the front lawn. I am from Seven Fish Christmas Eve dinners and bushy eyebrows, from Lagneses and Changcos and lolas and lolos. I am from eating rice with every meal and overplanned family vacations. From “Try it, if you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat,” and “You have to eat it anyways.” I am from Catholic school, and boring Sundays spent at Sacred Heart Church. I'm from the Philippines, pansit, and dinaguan. From the lola complaining about everything, the dog running out of the backyard, and sneaking in the back late at night hoping my parents are already asleep. I am from a blend of Filipino, Italian, and American culture, I’m from a caring and supportive family. Where I am from is not perfect, but neither am I. Recipe for a Confused Identity To make a Malaysian, This dish is halal and doesn’t contain pork. Preheat the oven to 180°C(olonialism) Add a teaspoon each of Bahasa, Cantonese, Hokkien, and Tamil to one cup of English to make Manglish Whisk in your mother tongue of choice Combine Chinese New Year, Hari Raya, and Diwali in a bowl Bake in a pan of multiculturalism with a hint of Malay-Muslim privilege Finish with a dash of vibrancy, open hearts and open arms. To make a Singaporean Preheat the oven to 180°C(olonialism) Separate from Malaysian corruption and add proper government and nationalism Combine Mandarin, Cantonese, Hokkien, Malay and Tamil to make Singlish Whisk tropical weather and humid air into island/city/country Quickly mix city planning, trading, tourism and efficient transportation to make First-world country Add passion for food and multiculturalism to taste Bake in flora and fauna to make The Garden City To make a Charlottean Preheat to 350° F(reedom and Liberty) Add a dash of ya’ll to one cup of English Combine Carolina BBQ with Southern Comfort food Whisk together hot summers and mild winters and remove spring Bake in underlying racism and Trump support divide Recipes only offer suggestions and can be altered to your liking. I grew up in a Blue country But I was born in a Yellow country My parents are Yellow. So I must be Yellow? Or at least, that is what they told me. But I played with the Yellows. I went to school with the Yellows. I spoke the Yellow language. I even dressed and appeared to be Yellow. Then I moved to the Blue land. Now I go to school with the Blues. I speak the Blue language. I even dress and look Blue. But deep down, inside me, I am still Yellow. I love the Blue country. But my ways are tinted with Yellow. When I am in the Blue land, I want to be Yellow. When I am in the Yellow land, I want to be Blue. Why can’t I be both? A place where I can be me. A place where I can be green. I just want to be green. I am from Timex watch from Kleenex, Clorox. I am from the pretty, safe, good smelling place. I am from the oak tree, daisy, mineral, the pine tree, rose, humidity. I am from take your shoes off and don’t make excuses, from Yoko and Mitch and McSwain’s I am from the crazy and stable. From wash your hands and don’t lie. I'm from Little Rock, Arkansas and Japan. Pork tenderloin and Soba. From my mom moved to Arkansas from Japan when she was 18, drives a stick shift, it’s never too late. I am from Japan, Arkansas, North Carolina, be honest, love yourself, I am always loved, and only child. Where I’m From I am from ironing boards, From laptops and smartwater. I am from the puddle of leaking fluid under every car in the driveway, wet, abundant, it smells like chemicals. I am from ficus elastica, The cherry tree, whose blossoming flowers and intoxicating scents take me back to my childhood. I'm from church on Sundays and Irish humor, From Grandpa Bennett and Grandma Dougherty. I'm from mid-afternoon naps and road-trips, From “Sharing is Caring” and “Stop bullying your sister”. I'm from early-morning Christmas mass to a post-church holiday brunch with family and friends. I'm from Chicago and the rolling green hills of the Irish coasts, No-bake cookies and pumpkin-spice coffee. From the day my grandma put down the cigarettes for good, The time my grandpa took me hunting and fishing. In my bedside drawer sits an album; a record of a childhood long ago Those happy moments, and the people in them, define me, piece by piece. Where I’m From I am from the sand, from the cheap magnets and Tommy Bahama shirts. I am from the coast, with the palms, the patio, and the pool. I am from the orchids, the rain. I am from love and loyalty, from Mark and Liza and Sharon. I am from pure independence and the thirst for adventure. From “hold yourself accountable” and of course “clean your room.” I am from my own beliefs in religious disbelief. I’m from the great state of Ohio, spaghetti and lasagna. From the father whom loves to swim, and his Reds, and the mother who loves to love. I am from China, Italy, Greece, Russia, and everywhere in between. I am from everything that has made me into who I am today, and I love every bit of me. I am from the open wooded area, from mint chocolate chip ice cream and homemade Belgian waffles on Sunday mornings. I am from the serene, quiet house near the 16th green with the peanut shaped pool in the backyard. I am from the Orchid, the Hydrangea, resilient and beautiful. I am from Diwali and generosity, from Bimal and Vaishali and the Doolabh name. I am from the sociable but still sincere. From fairy dust and lighted candle driveways. I am from Hinduism. From the stories of the Ramayana and the Gayathri Mantra. I'm from St. Louis, Missouri and India, from fried chocolate banana wontons and chicken biryani. From Shirish Doolabh who began his success story working with the coal on the railways in Zimbabew, the long and tireless nights, and the dedication of Serweshwer Mathur who from the age of 17 solely raised his family in India and worked his way to bring himself and his family to the United States. I am from Orlando and Jacksonville and Houston and everywhere the Doolabh and Mathur names have been. I, like the Doolabh name, am unique, but ubiquitous. Where I Am From I am from white Gabis From the blue barely and green coffee beans. I am from the dirt in the back yard (Brown, sticky), that is difficult to lift your feet from. I am from the eucalyptus trees whose leaves are used to treat patients. I'm from Meskel and Enkutatash, from Aschila Endalisasa and Marew Shimelash I'm from listening others and talking to someone else From “please be kind to others” and “don’t let others bother you” I'm from the orthodox church where elders are respected and Senbet on Sundays I'm from the Simien Mountains and the Shimelash’s, Berbere spicy and strong dark coffee, From my grandfather’s stick that he uses to beat up anyone who messes with his family and his land, From my grandmother’s clay pot where she feeds all the neighbor’s kids On the Gebara wall in the house is a stack of photo Albums, organized by ages from the top left corner of the well to the bottom right of the well to indicate the power of authority in the house. I am from the green leaves and rose flowers, where love and kindness is passed in the family tree. |
I am
from a bed that is unmade most days, from packets of fruit snacks, and from stress that is most often imposed on by me. I am from the county of Culpeper, which is more rural than anything and more of a home than anything I have ever known. Here it seems that all roads in town all lead to my house. I am from the largest tree in the world, the tree with the longest branches, for my ancestry is a mystery, but is still one that I identify my heritage with, as I am me and all of me is from both of my families. I am from Christian background, and really bad holiday movies that recur for the purpose of sustaining family traditions, from Richard and Ellyn, and the other-the unknown-family line, and all Vaught. I am from the family of late arrivees, and from the family that loves everyone like a neighbor. From a family that will go to both ends of the earth to protect one another, and will always be in solidarity no matter the circumstance. I am from a Christian upbringing that celebrates church on the two most popular days in the Christian church- Easter and Christmas. I'm from Anhui Province, China with no family ancestry identification, rice and macaroni combined, a mixed sort of two cultures that are unsure which is the more dominant. From the family that will drive crazy distances to spend a couple of hours with each other just because too much time has passed, the family that will surprise another with a party even when they do not want one. I am from a home that holds memories that are not rooted in the walls, but rather in the love that is available with open doors. I Am From I am from Green grass From Snake away and Neem Oil I am from the hardwood floors, cold tile floors, wood walls, creaking wood I am from pine trees, the seep sticky sap I'm from big dinner table and loud noises From mom and Malik’s I'm from the comforting and good advice giving From not lying and respecting elders I'm from Islamic values, going to the mosque I'm from Trinity, NC and Pakistan, spicy rice, bryani From the sister falling from a tree and going to the hospital I am from the beautiful, colorful sunsets, from FNF and a glass of sweet tea. I am from rolling hills and fences that never end filled with cows that graze lazily. I am from the kudzu and grass stains, maple trees that shed their leaves when the wind chills. I am from full bellies and playful arguing, from Nanas and Mimis and Mawmaws. I am from spur of the moment vacations and Krispy Kreme donuts. From bedtime secrets and intelligence that seems to come out of thin air. I am from switching churches due to a preacher’s thievery, from a family who now doesn’t attend church. I'm from Denver, a place of small town families who know their neighbors. From potato salad and collard greens. From the sister who raised her siblings, the grandmother who trades alcohol for a bible, and the mother who went to school, worked, and raised three kids. I am from the living room table, the canvases and collages, the tagged posts on Facebook. I am from colorful, smooth rocks on the edge of the ocean, from Trader Joe’s Peanut Butter Puffins and microweavable spinach and mushroom quiche. I am from a home built by my father, front porch hammocks, m0rning light in the kitchen and the sound of seagulls waking me up. I am from the canopy of leaves above my head, the wildflowers in the secret path to the beach. I am from Christmas mornings opening presents with my grandma, and arguments in the car. From my mother and my father and Barbara Rae, my quiet but loving grandmother. I am from the emotional openness of my mother and the organized mind of my father. From Winnie the Pooh hiding in the trees and monsters under the bed. I am from dancing while washing the dishes after dinner, from imperfectly perfect singing. I'm from Stony Brook, New York; from ice cream cones in the village and corn on the cob on the back porch. From the paintbrushes of Gaetano, the Long Island Italian Christmas Eves, and the pet racoon of my dad and his 5 siblings. I am from the beach house at West Meadow, knocked down, but filled with memories. From shelves and shelves of photo albums; photos of my twin brother and I, big blue eyes and bald heads. From treasure hunts in the sand at single digit birthday parties, and a home bursting with love. I am from the stages where I have performed, from the Moleskin journals, watercolors fine-point black pens that have documented my life. I am from the house with the colorful roofing, plants on my window sills, and the sound of a violin being before the crack of dawn. I am from the Roswell magnolia tree and the Russian birch tree, the daffodil and the poppy, the hot summer air and the smell of crisp autumn leaves in the north Georgia mountains. I am from our Russian dacha and pre-Revolution ancestors that will forever remain a mystery to me, from Naumov, Chernykh, and Romanov. I am from the hot-headedness but the joviality and a strong love for tea. From “work hard and results will come” and “trouble never comes alone.” I am from Russian Orthodox churches with golden onion-shaped domes, candles, and mysticism about this faith so unknown to me. I'm from Roswell, GA and Belgorod, Russia (place of birth and family ancestry), _sweet potato salad and spinach borsch. From the Soviet Gulags during WWII, the collapse, the rise of job opportunities and chance to start over in America. My parents’ big I am from Russian woods and Georgia hills, nesting dolls and Barbies alike, photographs from Russia on the Georgia windowsill and photographs of my sister and I on the Russian windowsills, from weekly Skype calls: laughter, tears, and communication, that cross oceans and keep my family as one. I am from the country clubs, from ovaltine and marshmallow fluff. I am from the white house on the corner, the one with the spooky decorations every October that the school busses slow down for. I am from the poison ivy, dandelions, and cliffs, the honeysuckles, peonies, and changing seasons. I am from playing daddy monster and charades, fromdebaters, from Jennifer and Matt and Fischer. I am from the coffee drinkers and Springsteen lovers. From the “my mom thinks I’m cool” and the “never back down”. I am fromPresbyterian and Quaker. I'm from Wilmington DE with Irish and German heritage. From pesto pasta and buffalo chicken. From the father who lit off fireworks in a small canoe, who taught me to how to make mistakes, and the mother who taught me common sense. I am from Pittsburg, from the beaches, from the mountains. I am from explorers and adventurers. I am from an island in the archipelago, from IKEA and cinnamon buns. I am from the town with sporty street names, where the trees are greener and where children play in the streets. I am from pines and oaks, the roses and grass. I am from midsummer family gatherings and Austrian roots, from granny Gunnel and aunt Ania. I am from the soccer loving and jetsetters. From “always be nice to everyone” and “life is a journey”. I am from slightly Christian traditions. Mostly celebrations of Easter and Christmas. I'm from Stockholm and Vienna, meatballs and wiener-Schnitzel. From the one time that my aunt put shampoo on her face instead of facial cream, and I didn’t want to question it, and the time my grandma went on a walk in Central Park and couldn’t find her way back to the hotel. I am from family albums of trips to Vietnam and Dubai, Spain and Italy. |