Children asked me what I am
My innocent reply wasn't good enough for them
The reassuring words of my parents
Were stronger than the jeers and insults of ignorant children
When I was older they asked me again
Why must you require me to label myself?
Does it give you a feeling of power
To put me in a little group based solely on what you see?
All that you think of me is what you're told
And most of that is lies
If I were to be classified based on who I really am
I would be the only member of that group
After years of hardship brought on by the attempt
My ancestors have seen to it that I am as American as you
But instead of being equal in your eyes
We're considered "the exception, not the rule"
Now, when asked, I cut right to the chase; I humor you
I say what's expected, and I still cannot please you
This is no different than what was, and I wonder
Why we bothered to try and be equal at all
5-13-96 - for school