Student Submission

Paradox

Text: Fahima Chowdhury

Text: Sheila Camacho

Her title as American was secured six years before her birth

But her reflection as a Mexican

Would never allow her to be a true citizen

8 years after the fall of the twins

America’s ideologies never seemed to change

In capturing her in a box

Labelled Muslim and Indian

Kicking her under the table

So she would never

Learn the ways of her ancestors

And finish the job they had started but never completed

In an academy of 120 students

With only 5 other Mexican girls

She needed to prove her worthiness

And surpass the limitations that were once set upon her

In an academy of 120 students

She grew tired

Of seeing her own reflection

On every other similar face

This white society

Has brought these two minorities together

But did not acknowledge the distinction

That lies between the Pacific

Their eyes sealed with ignorance

Leaving them unaware of the revelations

That were once implanted in the mind of their ancestors

Being passed down to each generation

Never growing but only expanding

Invading their thoughts

Creating habits

Exhausting the idea of change

Threatened by the idea

Of putting a terrorist and a drug dealer in the same room

“Why are these two girls friends? They are so different it’s unnatural.”

“How can their mothers allow their friendship to thrive?”

Age doesn’t matter

Even a 12 year old can say

“Look at them, they’re so different.”

She’s questioned on a daily basis

Of what she really is

Questions of how she’s come this far

I look in admiration

As she refuses to feed the curiosity

That lies behind these questions

I don’t tend to these questions because their not questions

But hidden interrogations

Confounding her descendants

By refusing to wear her hijab

Yet she places her hand

Above the holy Quran

You derive pleasure by rebelling

Against your religion

I never planned to rebel

There’s just other ways

Ways not yet written in history

Ways I want them to sprout and be visible to the old fashioned

Afraid of letting their kids under her supervision

Imagining she will erase all of the manners they have taught

Maybe if you change your attributes

These parents will change the way they look at you

I will not allow the length of my skirt to define whether I will be accepted

But nonetheless, I am incapable of removing

The shade of my skin

To fit their ideologies and

Be accepted in one’s kin

They are reluctant to take your orders

Believing you would waste five extra minutes

Questioning the ingredients

Presented on your tray

Although you know the answers to your questions

Do you merely ask for reassurance?

I never really asked

I’m always conscious

Of what I’m ordering

Although this is a free country

To practice any religion

So why should I be judged for asking a few questions

Questioning is what got

Your 7 countries banned

I never saw a list

With Bangladesh

But there’s an order

Set after your family members

Depriving them the chance to see you

Instead they’ll view the inside of a cell.

Those who are blindsided to

The cruciality of this situation

Should not have a say

I wasn’t given a chance to choose from either

Spending weeks in a lonesome, distressful desert

Or watch the clouds drift through the sky

Flying first class

I strive for goals that now have become unreachable due to the chains I’ve been forced to wear since birth

Setting limits to my success

Meanwhile you wait to have your meals

Spoon fed

Boasting about a luxury acclaimed by working hard

Isn’t a crime

We’ve pulled all the weight to bring us here

Uncovering that hard work never comes to an end, the clouds are still the same way

The chains that you talk of

Are not only yours

Everything didn’t arrive in a package

It’s needs to be triggered off

Says the terrorist

Drug dealer

Bomber

Border crosser

ISIS supporter

Criminal

MURDER

I guess I can’t trust an Indian

It’s unfair how the things

That makes me who I am

Is often contradicted

I wasn’t raised in a land

Where I was greeted

By the eyes of 1,000 gods

Instead, I rose from a country

Of our only God, Allah

Those arrogant minded government pets never took a moment

To think

How incompetent these two titles are

How these two parallel lines can never intersect

You’ve been so absorbed with your own conflicts

You never realized how I’ve hid

From the streaks of red and blue

From those red and blue lights

After January 20 I could never breath without hesitation

Fearing that one day I’ll see I.C.E. at the door

You’re not the only victim

BUT WHY DID THE THOUGHT
OF US UNDERSTANDING EACH OTHER

CROSS OUR MINDS
BECAUSE WE ARE NOTHING ALIKE

YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND ME (Spanish)

YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND ME (Bengali)

Why did we think this would work out

When we’ve seen this game

Be played out throughout history

By what we call society

Yet we took a chance rolled our dice

But they never got to hit the ground

For they fell into the hands of the Republicans

For he tampered with our faiths

With the power given to him from the 307 electors

The same 307 that forced us to stand as one

Now their fingers on the trigger with only one bullet

Before this man our conflicts were merely shadows lurking at night

But now the office has been passed down

To the man who turns these shadows into slaves

Carrying out his every command

Infusing into our minds that our religion, culture, race, and gender

Don’t make us special

But simply make us different

Two minorities stand on the pedi stool

They believe there’s a bullet in that gun

But if one race stands underneath the hand of the president long enough,

Then they can solely become a blemish

On his colorless palm

Believing they will accepted in this country

Which one of the us will stand down?

Which one of us will force the other to stand down!!!!!