Button Poetry - What Kind of Asian are You? lyrics

So he said to me: "What kind of Asian are you?" And I said back: That's a loaded question. What kind of Asian do you EXPECT me to be? Because any way you slice that egg roll, I'm still pretty much whatever you want to see. I've played many a Far East stereotype: Awkward math genius, cold and calculated Kung-Fu expert, a**istant to "Dr. Jones, you crazy!" You want me to drive? How so? I can give you Tokyo Drift, Jeremy Lin Mario Kart, Tiger Woods, and Blinker left on for about half a mile I am the foremost expert on all things Asian. The Mejia era and the Ban of the Samurai? Done. Confucianism versus Daoism? I'll give it to you with no slant! What's the difference between Asian stereotype 1 and 2? WELL LET ME TELL YOU. Let me tell you anything YOU want to know about my culture. Let me tell you in a Mulan-esque soliloquy of me staring in the mirror asking Who IS that girl staring that I see? Let me tell you about Jackie Chan and Bruce Lee and how they are related BY BLOOD to me. Let me tell you about being so marginalized it's to the point of "I really CAN'T believe that's Asian!" Let me tell you about derogatory terms and origins of words such as chink and gook Let me tell you about the struggle of Asian parents not knowing the language so we ate pet food because it was cheaper Let me tell you about the job of interpreter when you're still playing with LEGO blocks but your English is already that much better than your guardians Let me tell you about honor and dignity. Let me tell you about a society that projects us as nothing but the secondary role and never the leading man. Let me tell you all the things you don't want to know. Like how chink comes from the clanking of metal to railroads as the slaves built train tracks for this country to be connected. Like how the zipper head down the street is called that because of the way our heads split open when struck with a**ault weapons or how the Jeeps ran over and left marks across corpses and someone clever thought that we were only good to unzip. Like how every time you lump an Asian person into one culture is systematically making us a**imilate into an America we thought was better than our war torn home and every time you confuse me with some other nationality that I might share similar features to is stripping away my individuality And I still feel the shame of being Asian the heat and pious dedication of June 11th 1963 the envy of blonde hair and blue eyes And I still remember thinking where all the boys that looked like me on TV were the broken words of my mother and father stage diving off my tongue the anger I felt when those kids thought I'd get them sick And I still feel the ash of the incense burn my hands when I prayed for my family And I still remember thinking my skin was what I was worth And I still feel the ironwork of my bones grow stronger with every train of thought that pa**es by And I still feel pride And I still feel heritage And I still feel Chinese And I still feel Vietnamese And I still feel American And I still feel