Dear Dad*
Dear Dad,
who has done his best to love me,
please listen.
You,
who suffers injustice and ill fortune
because you speak broken English
with an accent that bears our Asian ancestry,
but doesn’t amuse Americans quite like other accents do
because cancer wasn’t woeful enough
and now the stroke left you unable to take care of yourself,
which corrodes your pride, though it was once inviolable,
should understand.
You should understand
the prejudice that our neighbors face from being anything but
white
wealthy
able-bodied.
You should understand
the best, actually,
that Black Lives Matter
because they, like us, have been underestimated
because they, like us, have been oppressed
but unlike us,
they are still seen as savage
deemed dangerous
marked to be moronic.
You should care about things like consent
not just because rape victims
“could be your wife or daughters”
not just because rape victims
“are someone’s wife or girlfriend or daughter”
but because rape victims are actually someone
because they are their own people before they are anyone else’s
because they deserved better.
Dear Dad,
You feel that the universe has given you a bad hand of cards.
You’re not the only one.
So dad, please.
Won’t you listen?
Won’t you try to understand?
Because I need you to listen and understand,
because there needs to be more people
who can understand
like you can.
Dear Dad,
who has done his best to love me,
please listen.