A Former Immigrant Juvenile's Feelings and Views on Race and Color in America

This sonnet more or less summarizes my memories and feelings of growing up in the South in America as a half-white, half-Vietnamese boy raised by an African-American, soldier step-father and a Vietnamese mother during the 1970's era after emigrating from South Vietnam as the Vietnam War still raged on.

————

During the '70's, deep in the South,

I was white but raised black by a black man.

As a boy, I have watched the Ku Klux Klan

on the news—and was frightened as a youth

who was “black.” In those times, it was uncouth

and a mark of disgrace to be less than

the child of a white mother and white man:

even back then I felt that racist truth.

Two-score years have passed and I’m still confused,

troubled, and unclear as to what or how

I should be: am I white—or “black” (abused

by my black "dad," I relate to him now—.)?

It’s joyless being me—unhinged like this:

but feeling more black, I hate prejudice.

By Ngoc Nguyen

From: United States