Family Tree
Writing
Disconnect
By Samiya RasheedMy mother mourns leaving her own country so deeply it runs through her veins into mine. Bangladesh is what she knows and what she loves. She spends her time showing me her culture: spinning through dances, running through poetry, and wading through history.
Baba’s Garden
By Clara RabbaniEgg-yolks blooming in serenity
baba’s palms turn upwards
black dirt falling on the sun.
The fruit of baba’s hands
covered in spines
twisted but not the wicked way
that punctures skin.
Serpentine limbs extend in search of
The Stories They Tell
By Clara RabbaniI envy the stories
They tell.
Of the East
And the West.
Of bare feet,
Guava trees,
Roasted fava beans.
Of tin water pails
That held curly-haired children
To keep the dust off their feet.
Coconut Kid
By Neha SridharGiggling, Aditi grabs my hand and twirls me along as her ghagra’s elaborate mirror embroidery catches in colorful lighting.
To Mom: Inspired by Ocean Vuong’s Poem “A Letter to My Mother That She Will Never Read”
By Katie StanosBut you need it, you said. I thought you wanted to be beautiful. I slammed my hands on the wheel of your Land Rover and pulled over to the side of the road near the big houses with green lawns and trampolines, Norfolk Way.
Shadows Need Light
By Hiba FaruqiA ransacked village in India is where my lineage began
Women.
Women, I will
And
Can never, ever know.
Tribulations my western brain
Cannot comprehend.
They made me.
I have the blood of
Hundreds
Where I’m From
By Emme MackenzieI am from
the expressions of my people
flattened nose and slits for eyes
leathery skin and cricks in my back
each feature of mine
a reflection of my family heritage
Never a Child
By Zoë ChristiansonA class clown attempted murder today.
A mother’s little boy,
a child’s best friend,
a teacher’s beloved terror,
stood over the monster who raised his freckly faced son
like the animal he’d become,
clutching a knife.
I Am the Quiet Little Hispanic Girl
By Stephanie LaraI am the quiet little Hispanic girl,
Light skinned
people make fun of me
they say I am not the color I’m supposed to be.
But who cares? It’s me not you!
Heroes
By Patrick BarryAs a grade school student I would read comic books. I was no expert in the field nor any sort of serious collector but never the less I enjoyed reading them. I liked all sorts of heroes, Marvel or D.C., but my favorite was The Shadow. I liked almost every comic book hero.
Three Choices
By Molly KavanaughThe ties to your ancestry
Binding a great family tree,
With this can you be truly free?
Now you have these choices three:
Embrace your blood,
An old-new bud.
Refuse the bonds
For fields beyond.