WeedFlower May 5, 2009

Here is the I am Sumiko poem showing all of my classes hard work

 

I Am Sumiko

I am a lonely Japanese American girl.

I cry alone on the bench pondering why I was uninvited to Marsha’s party…humiliated with haji (shame).

I touch kusabanaflowers (weedflowers) as I fragilely display them for sale at the flower market.

I lived in California on my Uncle’s old flower farm with my extended family until the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor and F.D.R. issued Executive Order 9066.

I wonder why my family and I were forced to relocate to the Poston Arizona Internment Camp…our dirty dust-pelted (prison or jail). Forced against our will, we were herded like cattle on a warm winter day.

I hear that we are dangerous, wasteful and other hurtful stereotypes…unwelcome in my own country.

I want to return to my kusabana and smell my favorite flowers.

I am a lonely Japanese American girl.

I question the US Government’s decision to move us into Internment Camps: protection or prejudice…Shikata ga nai (this cannot be helped)…or can it?

I see dirt and sandstorms—my eyes are dried by mucous and dust.

I feel confused about Mojave Indians not having the right to vote in Arizona…until 1948.

I worry that Uncle and Jiichan will be tortured by our own people. I worry if we leave, we will be discriminated against.

I taste the delicious fried snake with shoyu (soy sauce)—It tastes like unagi (eel).

I understand that “in the world of change you accept the changes that can’t be helped. You suffer so you can learn…”

I am Sumiko and I am a melancholy and confused Japanese American girl.

I say Frank has abandoned me, but then I come to a conclusion that friendship is complicated and requires sacrifice.

I believe in Japanese Americans getting their homes, land, and lives back after the war.

I dream of my transformation from a farm girl to a flower shop owner.

I try to understand and cultivate my friendship with Sachi, Mr. Moto, and Frank.

One day, I hope to own my own flower shop with delicate stock, carnations, and my uncle’s flowers, the future of America.

I was once a lonely farm girl who lived on my Uncle’s flower farm and didn’t know what friendship was.

But now I am a girl with family, friends and a future who wants to own a flower shop

Advertisement