wandering empty school hallways, i've forgotten to take an exam, i've forgotten what my next class is, i found a path through a forest & it is quickly getting
dark, the path where are you from?
is long gone, & so i am coming out of this dream in a haze, & i come from the stomach of an angel that is speaking new languages from thirteen of its myriad mouths, i come from an angel that is slowly
turning into a human who are you?
& despising it, & a bioluminescent moth awkwardly dances for an unlit lightbulb held up by a young girl who in turn is held up by a skeleton made of lost stories, & i
come up out of this dream clawing ?
at a wild hill, my memories crumbling like sweet cake, & i try to write this down with stained fingers because it must be the answer to an exam that i am taking too late in an empty hallway that i should not recognize in a school that is in a quiet forest with no pathways so that the hungry angels
always leave me alone. where are you?
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Where are you from? I said ‘right down the road’
As your mom froze your sister staring into me –
You laughed softly as your sister shook her head
And told me I was from the stars completely sure
After alone as your fingers traces my skin gently
You said I was more a puzzle touch soft as rain
I kept my laugh as soft the unfunny left unsaid –
Staring my body which fit nowhere but you saw
You kissed me apart and hugged me back together
Without a single word and I shivered just a little
‘Sometimes we get what we don’t deserve’ I said
You said we deserved everything between kisses
Some days I could almost believe what you tell me
But I know stars must fall to earth and asked why me
A quake you tried to ignore saying only love mattered
I’m not a star – but I know you came from dreams
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Where Are You From?
Pictures from Pinterest
Where all four seasons exist
Lightning bugs fill the summer sky
Leaves crunch under feet on Halloween
White Christmas ‘ are more likely a reality then not
Dandelions cover yards in the spring
Where a dairy exists where you can see the cows where your ice cream comes from
Maybe even milk them
It is part of the heartland
A fly over state
The very heart of the country
Where am I from
The buckeye state
Ohio.
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"He's not mine Grian, I'm not that selfish"
Grian rolled his eyes at that, fluttering around Doc as the man loaded more shulkers into his system.
"I'm pretty sure he's just waiting on you, you know"
"uh huh, and I'm sure that everyone's going to be happy about me claiming him hm?" he raised an eyebrow and pointedly looked at Grian. The builder had the absolute audacity to tilt his head to the right, pretending to look confused.
"huh?" Grian tried, but his expression dropped when Doc didn't budge. He huffed, angrily raising his hands "I want him to be happy! And you make him happy so why don't you just-"
"and you don't?" Doc shot back, stunning Grian into silence. "Do you really think he's not happy when he's with you?"
"... I-..." He drew his eyebrows together but stayed silent, stubbornly kicking at the rocks by his feet. Doc sighed, his large hand fluffing up the builder's sandy blond hair.
"besides, we don't do the whole claiming thing anymore G" He squeezed Grian's shoulder reassuringly "we're all here for each other."
He gathered up his stuff and continued on with his task, picking out the full shulkers and replacing them with empty ones, he was so preoccupied with what he was doing that he almost didnt hear Grian mumble under his breath.
"what was that?"
"I said I want him to..." Grian looked away, his cheeks burning bright red.
Doc inhaled sharply, momentarily stunned at the confession. He slowly let out the breath he was holding as his expression softened. He raised his hand and placed it on top of the builder's head again.
He wanted to say something, anything, but the sentences won't form on his tongue. Grian just sighed dejectedly and sat down onto the grass. Doc sat beside him, letting out a sigh of his own.
"we're really in it now, aren't we Doc?"
Doc just hummed an affirmative, looking out into the setting sun.
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Where Are You From?
I’ve been asked that question a few times in my life. If you’re a POC (person of colour) or even white-passing you might have heard that question a few times in your life. As for me, I never knew what that question really meant or why so many people asked me this question until I was older.
In most cases, when people (mainly whites) asked where you’re from, it’s so they can figure out how to judge you and either try to avoid being racist or just be racist but this time is culturally correct. (Most of the time their cultural racism is far off from what I am.)
Let’s start with the non-racist people. Some people are just interested in where others come from. If someone approached me and asked where I’m from, I would tell them the United States of America, if they’re not racist, that line of conversation ends.
So why is it considered racist if they keep asking me?
It’s because they want to know where my blood comes from, since I don’t look white, they get confused.
Stranger—Where are you from?
Me—U.S.A
Stranger – No, I mean where are your parents from?
Me - ...U.S.A?
Rakshitha Arni Ravishankar probably said it the best when explaining why asking where someone is from is a bad thing. “It reduces someone’s identity to a social group, a city, or a culture, and that can trigger feelings of alienation.” (2020, Ascend, What’s Wrong with Asking “Where Are You From?”, https://hbr.org/2020/10/whats-wrong-with-asking-where-are-you-from)
I got asked this question a lot from my own classmates who didn't believed I grew up in the same town they did. When I told them my blood is Puerto Rican I would get lumped in with the other Hispanic kids. Racial jokes shortly followed.
The feeling of alienation was always there. I wasn’t Hispanic enough to be with the Hispanic kids, and I wasn’t American enough to be with the American kids. Yes I did had my own friend group but we were the group of rejects. I always wanted to be part of the other groups but they never let me and I never understood why. I’m Hispanic, and I’m American, why can’t I join both groups?
I told my mother I thought about changing my last name to make it sound more American but my mother insisted I didn’t because corporations hire people base off which groups they belong too. My mother wanted me to look white, but keep my last name so it’ll be easier to get a job. (It wasn’t easy).
Moving forward to when I came to Australia and I was asked where I’m from. This time I’m annoyed at these questions and lie to people, every single time they believed me. I even told one person I’m from Azela (a made up country in my book) and they believed it.
These people just want me to say “I’m not Australian” (because I’m not) so they can lump me with group A) B) or C)
“I don’t care if people ask me where I’m from!” Is something I heard more than once and that’s because, white people don’t get asked that question every time they have a conversation with someone.
I pulled an uno reverse card on someone and asked them where they were from and it went a little something like this.
Me – Where are you from?
Stranger – I cam from ___ state, my father came from ___ and my mother came from ___
Me – That’s nice, but where are you really from?
Stranger - ?
Me – I mean, where’s your blood from?
Stranger – My bloods American.
Me – What about your ancestors? Where are they from?
Stranger – England most likely, I also have a little bit of Irish in me
Me – I thought you were Irish, you looked Irish. I know another Irish, Bob, who makes the best potato bake, Do you know Bob?
Like I said before, I live in Australia and when I get asked the question where am I from and I say the United States of America what’s followed is a barrage of jokes against Americans. “Don’t shoot me!”
“I thought you’d be fatter.”
“Did you moved your sister here as well?”
“Do I need to slow down so you can understand me?”
A lot of people lump others into one of three separate categories
1) This group is good
2) This group is bad
3) I don’t know much about this group to be certain what my feelings are.
Asking where I’m from will place me in one of those three categories and I can tell if I’m in number two or three, just stop lumping people in categories. Regardless of where someone is from, they’re a person. A person who is different from someone else. If white people truly make the claim they don’t see race, then they should stop asking people of colour where they came from based on their looks.
That is why asking someone where they are from, to a complete stranger, especially if that stranger is a POC can be seen as a racist.
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