45 pages • 1 hour read
“I grew up hearing my father digging into words for images that will stretch the limits of life for my siblings and me. In my father’s mouth, bitter, rigid words become sweet and elastic like taffy. His poetry shields us from the poverty of our lives.”
Here, Kalia explains how her father was always a poet, and the way he could use language to transform their difficult lives into things of beauty. Furthermore, even after Bee loses his ability to compose song poetry, he continues this tradition with his youngest son, Max, telling him stories about Laos.
“In the warmth of spring, the wind transforms the empty parking lot by the corner Laundromat into a field of fallen petals as crab apple trees release their blooms and the hard pavement feels the soft brush of tender, ephemeral beauty. Wet rain falls into shattered concrete and the pools of black water lie still for the pink and white and red petals to swim in. The wind carries the voices of laughing children into our house as we watch the petals sway to and fro in the dark puddles across our street.”
Kalia uses this kind of descriptive and imagery throughout the text, demonstrating constantly that her father is a poet, but also demonstrating her own poetic prowess and facility with language. Here, she creates an image of a sleepy, warm spring day.
“The words had nothing and everything to do with my being in the big arena. There was no room for refusal, for thoughts or ideas, it was all just a moment felt, emotions bubbling forth from losses the Hmong had endured. In his song, I was no longer young. I was one with a people who had lived for a long time, traveled across many lands, a people clinging to each other for a reminder, a promise, of home, that place deep inside and far beyond where the Hmong people had hidden our hearts so that we could heal. There was nothing to be embarrassed about.”
Here, Kalia describes her reaction the first time she heard her father perform his song-poetry. Her father’s poetry doesn’t just bring her closer to her father, but closer to her heritage as a Hmong. It provides her a better understanding of the losses they have suffered, as well as their strength and courageousness in the face of their suffering.
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By Kao Kalia Yang