What got you into creative writing?
I’ve always adored fairy tales. I remember just eating up Disney princess movies and fantasy books as a kid, so I’m not sure when or how it all started, but I was writing about princesses and magical pandas as early on as elementary school. Although, recently, I’ve been trying to tap a little more into reality as I write.
What/who are your inspirations?
Actually, poetry is not my main medium. I primarily write short fiction and novel-length works in the fantasy genre. Some of my favorite books are “Percy Jackson and the Olympians”, “Lord of the Rings”, “Six of Crows”, and “The Book Thief”. In regard to poetry, my friends, Abigail Lee (freshman, sociology), Alannah Tjhatra (sophomore, biochemistry), and Andrew Pak (freshman, music), have been very inspirational.
What is your favorite part of the creative writing process?
It would have to be reading the finished piece. It’s so satisfying to see everything come together.
To get the word out there for the club, why should students join the AU Scriptorium?
We’re super laid back and friendly. People just gather ‘round and chat about the cool things they’ve read over the past week or share a little something they wrote. We have optional weekly prompts. Really, there’s something for everyone. There’s no requirements or expectations, so feel free to drop by the rec center any Thursday at 6:30 PM.
Could you describe the story behind the piece you are featuring?
When I wrote this piece, I had just gotten in from watching the 2020 election results come in live. The past week had been a flurry of urging friends and strangers alike to please, please vote, and election day itself had been a constant stream of ‘have you voted yet?’ My ballot was in the box. There was nothing left but waiting, so flooded with anxiety over who our next president would be, I began to write.
This poem is a homage to anyone who’s ever felt like this country isn’t theirs to claim. As an Asian American and a kid of first generation immigrants, I wanted to capture the tumultuous experience of entering a new nation, the challenges my grandparents and parents faced, and the trailblazers who led the way. It’s undeniable that America has a messy past, and I think that’s something I’ll always grapple with.
“america, america”
america, america,
plentiful land, land of opportunity, land of
solemn-faced, pinched-lip mothers and fathers,
clutching screaming infants to their chests,
keeping chins up, hiding fear, staring past,
marching down seaweed-slick planks to
land of the free, home of the brave
overflowing nation, land of giving, land of
fresh calluses forming on grandmother’s hands
from stretching days of scrubbing linoleum tile,
wringing gray rags, whitening toilet bowls,
trudging home to two sons in one bed in
land of manifest destiny, home of abundance
noble country, land of glory, land of
‘they are not like us,’ see their narrow, black eyes,
their foul-smelling lunches, their rude accents in land of
‘worry about yourself’ because no one else will, and i
watch a boy paint his lips in blueberry blood in
land of mirth, home of oneness
home, dear america, hope is
a man in a plum-dark lip, shimmering crystals
in his ears and river cloth draped off his hips, refusing
to bow before the hatred, rising to himself,
sharing my name and face in
land of darkness, home of division
tormentor, dear america, hope is
a woman in a pearl necklace and a fitted pantsuit,
standing above a sea of people who have chosen her
voice to uplift theirs from their island state
with a face like mine and a voice like my people’s in
land of blindness, home of closed ears
stubborn place, dear america, hope is
a young person laughing in a tulle, tangerine gown,
a brown woman thundering in a congress hall,
a tired man sobbing in his brother’s arms,
a graying woman holding her wife’s hand in
land of equality, home of justice
america, america,
bountiful land, land of self-making, land of
unspeakable wrong etched crimson on my nation’s soul,
families rent by war, cities shelled by bombs, deep scars
torn unseen in the people’s hearts, all i ask of you is
please, let the children be happy. in this
land of relentless wishing, home of second chances
The Student Movement is the official student newspaper of Andrews University. Opinions expressed in the Student Movement are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the editors, Andrews University or the Seventh-day Adventist church.