I am from:

I am from worn-down leather skates carving into smooth ice as I breathe in the crisp air  

I am from my rice cooker, inherited from my mom, following me through countless dorm rooms and apartments 

I am from my parents’ cars taking me from rink to school to rink, over potholes in suburban Illinois 

I am from the Metra to Evanston and the Orange Line to Chinatown 

I am from pillows and blankets, softness and comfort surrounding me 

I am from Southern All Stars, Jonas Brothers, Beyonce, and Kpop before Kpop was “cool”

I am from Kimchi and Okonomiyaki and Portillos and Culvers and soft serve with rainbow sprinkles and year-round pumpkin pie 

I am from lake tubing and chocolate chip pancakes at a friend’s Wisconsin lake house 

I am from summertime bike rides to Baskin Robins and hot chocolates after playing in the snow 

I am from a Japanese-Korean-American home (especially the kitchen) changing every time I visit (today it smells a little like a dog) 

I am from my mom’s cooking and “Do you need anything from Mitsuwa before you go?” 

I am from hot and humid brownstones in Fenway with a rotating cast of roommates and the soothing buzz of the city

I am from competition travel where I’m just one of twenty 

I am from bunions and calluses and torn ligaments and sore joints 

I am from a pedestal, stuck there by adults who forgot where their responsibility lied 

I am from “You’re fine, just keep going” and “Do it for the team” 

I’m trying to remember where I’m from, I think my mind wants me to forget 

I am from piano lessons and Kumon and tennis lessons and “the model minority” 

I am from the quick snap of the piercing gun at Claire’s 

I am from blue and pink dye jobs and platinum blonde hair 

I am from team dress codes and mandatory haircuts 

I am from the mountains of Korea, a place I will never know or see

I am from stories of home in an angry diaspora, disconnected 

I am from the water, a Japanese oceanside town called Ise, a spiritual home with soft air 

I am from bonsai trees and fresh-picked corn 

I am from soaking in an onsen and jet lag  

I am from midnight calls to Japan that I couldn’t understand 

I am from speaking broken Japanese to my Korean grandmother as we embody the violence of language

I am from searching for my Asian family in a sea of White faces in the competition audience 

I am from growing up to say “I love you” now that we’re all adults  

I am from my brother, Seiji 

I am from my besties and my teammates and my cousins and my comrades 

I am from my parents and my grandparents and my great-grandparents 

I am from my queer ancestors in Japan and my roots of resistance in Korea 

I am from my community, past, present, future 

I am from the prairies, the expansive horizon my version of the ocean 

I am from the endless space, holding me, grounding me 

I am not from here but I am from here

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This poem was written for an activity modified from the George Ella Lyon “Where I’m From Project”