My Father’s Ghost

sitting cross-legged on a chair, head downcast

So I’m home. I’m in the suite, sitting on my couch. It’s that time of night again. On my right (gesture to the right), the Bible, on my left (gesture to the left) City of God, on my lap (gesture to the center) the Stoics and Epicureans, piled one on the other.

I have read so many words.

I have read about the flood and the plague and the Red Sea.

These words are all of my American education. These words are all my wonders and aspirations and anchors to humanity.

I have stared into their depths, hoping maybe just maybe someone will stare back at me.

look up

If God made man in his image, why is it I have always seen God as white?

spread legs on floor, and stare down

When I was little, I told the BFG my name was Sophie, and he whisked me away from London to a foreign and magical cave, where in the witching hour I poked through jars of dreams. When I was little, I met Matilda atop a tower of books. I wanted to be just like Matilda. When I was little, I read a book of princesses. Anastasia, Elizabeth, Mary, you name it. I ran to my mother, who told me, You are a princess too. Descended from the Song Dynasty.

look up

I have a hunch that some little girls can grow up without ever knowing who they are.

Some little girls learn a little too late.

look down

When I look in the mirror, I see myself in foreign clothes, see the Western tradition in my reflection.

I am tired of unfamiliar faces. I am tired of clothes that do not fit my skin.

sitting cross-legged on chair again, head propped up by hands

So I’m home. I’m in the suite, sitting on my couch. But I’m not at home. Because it’s that time of night again. Because of these books on my right (gesture to the right) and on my left (gesture to the left) and on my lap (gesture to the center). Because when words stop being your escape they make you want to escape.

only one hand propping up head

My father’s on the phone.

I try to think. I just want to get out.

My dad’s on the phone. Waiting.

Daddy, can you tell me about the time you looked up at the stars? went to the mountains and back?

look straight ahead, get up, look at the chair I was sitting before. walk to center stage.

See, I was whisked away
to the mountains, back in the
Cultural Revolution, in the village
of Shuji, in the province of Fujian.

I was only 8.
But I was real.
I was a phenomenon.
I memorized the prayers
for after waking and before sleeping.

Built them up like Lego’s, first the words then
sentences then
paragraphs.

move to the left, look to the right

How long was I there?

look to the front

8 months

move to the left, look to the right

What was it like?

look to the front

When you are a true Buddhist, everything
is empty, the material world
is nothing, only spirituality
is left, and wealth, and
even family are nothing. This is why,
when the government found out
I was too little to be a monk,
I felt nothing. When the authorities
whisked me away
back home,
I felt nothing. When my mother
and my father back home
left me for the next temple,
I felt nothing. I couldn’t.

move to the left, look to the right

And the stars?

look to the front

I would look at the stars,
sleep on the floor,
in the evening,
sit in the courtyard
look up at the sky
dreaming,
what’s there
who’s out there
who am I
escaping
reality

move to the left, look to the right

How did I come here?

look to the front

My father brought me here. I thanked him.

look to the right

For what?

look to the front

He helped me escape.

move to the left, look to the right

And the stars?

look up and stare and shrug and sigh

move to the center stage, looking down

I tried to read poems, daydreaming a little every day
Wanted to live in my own world
but knew I had to survive
because life can be so terrible
because maybe your parents die
your siblings die
and you need to be strong enough, support yourself

move to the left

I was the only legal immigrant
in a building
of people
who didn’t
belong

move to the center again

Oh! You’re writing a poem about me!
I have so many ideas for your collection.
My Father 1 (gesture to the right)
My Father 2 (gesture to the left)
The Little Monk (gesture to the center)

move backwards, standing against the chair

See, my father survived,
So I am alive
Works in IT now,
stares at (pause and look up, then stare down)
his laptop most of the day.
I’d like to hope his dream is still alive.

move backwards toward chair again and fall back down

For I’m home. I’m in the suite, sitting on my couch, with these words on my right (gesture to the right) and on my left (gesture to the left) and on my lap (gesture to the lap), but also all around (spread palms)

For I am sitting on my couch
dreaming
what’s there
who’s out there
who am I
escaping
reality

For I am sitting on my couch,
as all of myself,
when I look up
when I look up and see a familiar face for once
when I look up and by my side stands my father’s ghost (stand up and look to the right and hold his hand with my right hand!)
who lives and
breathes
through me
and when we look up
and wonder
about the same sky
I am all of myself.

step forward a little

If ever you see a little girl, a little boy, lost in a sea of words, don’t leave them to find their place when they are already displaced.

Take them in.
Have a heart.
Have a heart to heart.

step forward again

But say you are this little girl, this little boy.
Don’t let yourself get washed away.
Anchor to someone who speaks to your heart.
For you do your voice the truest justice when you speak the truest words.