First Prize:
Mel? by Amelia, Russia/Illinois, Age 15
Second Prize:
"Soy De" Means "I'm From" by Pedro, El Salvador/Kansas, Age 15
Third Prize:
Revolution by Amy, China/New Jersey, Age 16
First Prize:
Two Worlds, Two Dreams by Andrea, Colombia/Florida, Age 17
Second Prize:
Dynasty or Wang Jo by Katherine, Korea/Georgia, Age 17
Third Prize:
Lumpia and Cornbread by Billimarie, Philippines/California, Age 17
First Prize:
The Little Line by Cathy, China/Texas, Age 15
Second Prize:
Choosing Names by Grace, Singapore/California, Age 15
Third Prize:
Standing Strong by Beatrice, Philippines/California, Age 13
First Prize:
Two Worlds by Natasha G., India/Alabama, Age 14
Second Prize:
The Perfect One by Zhan Tao Y., China/Nevada, Age 14
Third Prize:
From Russia With Love by Laura S., Russia/New York, Age 13
The Fire Escape's 2006 Poetry Contest Winners
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First Prize Poetry 2006:
Mel?
by Amelia, Russia/Illinois, Age 15
an onion dome of gold
defies the pale blue sky
and glitters like a Christmas card
the small Orthodox church, a time machine beckoning
to a place lost but remembered in dreams
a genetic gift
as tangible as eyes the color of the Baltic sea
American Idol is on
and i should be watching it
but instead i find myself
lighting a candle
and breathing in incense so pungent
it makes my nose bleed
instead i find myself
in the remnant of a world
that smells of boiled cabbage
and feels like velvet
because it is lent
even in New York
and my Russianness clings to me
like soot on a humid city morning
i would like to tell you that i feel out of place
surrounded by old women dressed in black
whose prayers sound like chickens cackling softly
my ears not attuned to a choir singing in Old Church Slavonic
a language nobody seems to understand
born Yemelia Nikolayevna
i am now Mel
just Mel
Mel who wears birthday-cake lipgloss and lavendar flip-flops
who takes hip-hop on Thursday night
and knows pizza is far superior
to paper-thin pancakes stuffed with fish eggs
but somehow the deep, gold smell of the incense
and the glow of fragile white candles
and the walls filled with sad, dark saints
tell me otherwise
for when the fates were weaving my future
they used a memory yarn
that keeps stretching back
to its original shape
Mel on life between cultures: The hardest part about being an immigrant or first-generation
American is finding words to truly express the tightrope that is always there. I think translation is a myth. If you say the same word in three different languages, you are going to get three very different pictures in your mind. Language is tangled up in the colors and textures and smells of an entire culture. It is so much more than words in a dictionary. That is why, if you are in the position of being caught between two cultures, you have to find your own vocabulary and sets of images to describe your unique position in the world. Once you do that, it gets a little easier. I, also, think it is important to find a thread that links your two cultures and hold fast to it, so you don't end up feeling like you have a split personality. For me, that thread is ballet. It is my linking language. And after all, the best thing about being caught between cultures is having such a rich treasure chest brimming with words and experiences. They can be very powerful if you learn to tap into them and trust them.
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Second Prize Poetry 2006:
"Soy De" means "I'm From"
by Pedro, El Salvador/Kansas, Age 15
“Soy de” means “I’m from.”
Soy de climas calientes y playas azules.
I’m from sour limeade and chlorine-intoxicated water.
Soy de mangos maduros y pies descalsos.
I’m from melted crayons on a hot summer day and sweaty sandals.
Soy de risas fuertes y comida sabrosa.
I’m from 0.7 pencil lead and mix 93.3.
Soy de pupusas calientes y cases de carton.
I’m from clean shoes and healthy, noon lunches.
Soy de proverbios y lapiceros.
I’m from snow covered doorsteps and smoked honey ham.
Soy de quetes en la navidad y el 15 de septiembre.
I’m from comfy old cushions and snickering second cousins.
Soy de salsa y merengue y buenas notas.
I’m from six chairs at a table and a crowded backseat.
Soy de camas suaves y quartos compartidos.
I’m from Sesame street and dry chocolate doughnuts
Soy de “hola” y “hello” y “adios” y “goodbye.”
I’m from PG 13 movies and Facebook wall posts.
Soy de Shakira y estorias infantiles.
I’m from “ready, set, hut” and expected pop quizzes.
Soy de “dia de ninos” y brazos fuertes.
I’m from swallowing anger and hiding back tears.
Soy de muertes dolorosas y tios con rencor.
I’m from paper-jammed printers and $15 Itunes cards.
Soy de campos y frentes con sudor.
I’m from Crest toothpaste and year-old Nike sneakers.
Soy de padres enamorados y embarazos a edad 15.
I’m from Mayah’s goo-goo gah-gah’s and Father’s wise lectures.
Soy de agua helada y huevos de tortuga.
I’m from allergy attacks and noisy parakeets.
“Soy de dos mundos differentes” means “I’m from two different worlds.”
“Dos mundos en uno” means “Two worlds in one.”
“Soy de” means “I’m from.”
Pedro on life between cultures: The hardest thing about balancing two cultures is having to adapt to two environments that are not that similar; dealing with responsibilities, habits, and customs, that most people here aren't used to. In my school, about 95% of the students that attend are white. The rest are about 7% hispanic and 3% black. The thing I like most about my parents being immigrants is that I get to visit El Salvador often, and I think the biggest benefit is having the opportunity to be bilingual.
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Third Prize Poetry 2006:
Revolution
by Amy, China/New Jersey, Age 16
Eat your food, my mother said.
Even if you don't like it,
Or can't even keep it in your mouth, don't
Just waste it. There are people
In the world who would kill
For what you have on your plate.
When I was your age, I would have
For your dumplings and soy sauce --
Because when I was sixteen, I was living
In the countryside after Chairman Mao
Decided what equal was -- and all I had
To eat for seven months was corn.
The husks dried outside while we
Slept on straw pallets and in the morning
When we went to peel them apart, insects
Had already claimed the kernels.
So if you don't finish your dinner,
Even if it's just one bite,
One day someone may tell you where
You must go, without saying for how long;
And if, while you're gone, you have nothing
To eat but corn, you'll think of this last bite
And you won't be hungry anymore.
Amy on life between cultures: The hardest thing about balancing two cultures is accepting the flaws of each respective culture. To "half" belong to a culture allows you to easily pick-and-choose the virtues and ideals of a society; to understand that only a sense of half-belonging will still carry a full set of baggage is difficult to accept, but often necessary and real.
The Fire Escape's 2005 Poetry Contest Winners
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First Prize Poetry 2005:
Two Worlds, Two Dreams
by Andrea, Colombia/Florida, Age 17
Colombia, forgotten paradise
Your drum beats pulsate through my veins
In your soil my tangled roots are buried
Shadows dawn on your brighter days
Your oceans however tainted are pure
Your people however hopeless can smile
Snowy mountain peaks with buried treasures
Melt into the emerald sea and vanish
Infamous are your poison and danger
Fear forever carried in your name
Obscured beauty lies in your culture
Masked by unbearable pain
Colombia, my Nostalgic Dream
Bearer of my divine youth
Of the sway of my hips,
The shape of my native tongue,
My ceaseless desire,
My burning love.
America, colossal melting pot
Home of the free and the brave
Into your prosperity we leaped
Finally approaching our brighter days
Your power however condemned is invincible
Your culture however phony is modeled
Like King Midas with your touch
Vast open lands you turned into gold
Skyscrapers line the horizon
Hiding the great balls of fire
Yet stars are visible in your walk of fame
These your people will always admire
America, my American Dream
Bearer of my unpredictable future
Of the countless open doors,
The thriving competition to succeed,
My relentless ambition,
My undying gratitude.
Andrea on life between cultures: The hardest thing about balancing two cultures is adapting to one without losing the other. In the process of doing so, a person can often lose their sense of identity. Although I was born in the United States, I moved to Colombia when I was only a few months old and did not move back to Miami until I was twelve years old. I wanted to speak English as well as all my American friends, but I did not want to lose my Spanish. That was one of the most difficult parts of adapting. The best part of being an immigrant is being able to enjoy and appreciate the best of both worlds. Miami has a large Latin- American community and amongst that community, I feel entirely at home. Everything is familiar: the food, the music, the language. Outside that community, there is a whole new culture to explore and learn from, one which offers infinite opportunities. That is the best part of being an immigrant.
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Second Prize Poetry 2005:
Dynasty or Wang Jo
by Katherine, Korea/Georgia, Age 17
I am from broken English
embarrassing language faux-pas
and spelling errors
from grandmother who tries so hard.
I am from bamboo chopsticks and rice
from ginseng tea
and herbal remedies
concocted by loving ancient hands
molded by a lifetime of experience.
I am from myths and legends
from the Bear and the Tiger
and the mystics and magic
monks, temples, and dragons.
I am from soft silk dresses
whose spirits have danced
to traditional steps
have bowed to the imperial court
on New Year’s Day.
The legacy of Asian dynasties.
I am from Simon and Garfunkel
the sounds of silence
in the backseat of cross-country roadtrips
chatting with Daddy
gleefully teasing and playing pranks
while Mommy and Dennis snore.
I am from Beethoven and Chopin
while reading Emily Dickinson and Robert Frost
when words just wash over my wistful mind.
I am from Thanksgiving at Grandma’s house
from Christmas at Uncle’s
pumpkin pie, turkey, and ham
from walking down 42nd with cousins
talking as white clouds escape
mingling and lingering
in the shrewd brisk air.
I am from original sin
from forbidden apples
from Snow White and Walt Disney
with Mouseketeer ears
and the Mickey Mouse cult
from 2-mile walks up the hill bothways
and bright yellow buses.
I am from plastic
perfect pink Barbies
and masculine Ken
from Cupcake Doll
and playing house and school.
I am from the Fall Classic
9th-inning rallies
game 7 adrenaline
and the Yankee dynasty.
The hallmark of the American hegemon.
I am from this odd hybrid
an overlap between the Venn Diagram
of east and west
the mixing of two opposites
an alloy of two unmixable metals
but are they?
Katherine on life between cultures: The hardest thing about balancing two cultures is the struggle to find an identity between the two cultures without compromising the integrity and value of either one. An immigrant is a bridge between two ways of life and has the unique ability to fully understand and operate under two ways of thinking.
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Third Prize Poetry 2005:
Lumpia and Cornbread
by Billimarie, Philippines/America, Age 17
It's about having to ask for the Lumpia and the cornbread, not some
Separate course, some ironic divorce
Between the forced joining of the loved and the loveless
It's about taking both the Lumpia and the cornbread, because
Within this faceless world's view, this hue
Of just white, black, yellow, brown and red--
Am I just dead?
Or do I blend in so well with the colors on my plate?
Can you pass the Lumpia and the cornbread?
Because my heart needs two for beating
Two for one whole meal and feeling
And when it comes time for feeding
That's exactly what I'm needing
Billimarie on life between cultures: The only hard part about balancing two cultures is the pressure society puts on you to become "one." So many experiences (negative and positive) have taught me that I can't just be black one day and Filipina another, which showed me how far being accepting and tolerating of other ideas/cultures can really take you.
The Fire Escape's 2004 Poetry Contest Winners
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First Prize Poetry 2004:
The Little Line
by Cathy G., China/Texas, Age 15
Balancing on a tightrope,
High in the stormy sky,
Above two chasms,
To neither I can say mine.
One is the nation of my birth,
The seed from which I sprung,
The other is my nurturing mother,
Who is so beautiful and so strong.
So I teeter and I totter,
Along that long dividing line,
Which way do I fall?
Or should I just take a dive?
I ache for my homeland,
But Sweet America, she sings.
My loyalty and love remain unclaimed,
For both nations claim the ring.
Oh! But when the clouds break away,
I can finally see,
Sparkling like a gem in the sunlight,
My true being is set free.
I am I beautiful union,
Of the motherland and the New World,
In me lie two cultures,
I walk that little line no more.
Cathy on life between cultures: The hardest thing about balancing two cultures is that you feel like you don't have a solid identity anymore. Its human nature to want to be accepted, to belong somewhere, but when you are torn between two cultures, a question of who you are arises. Especially during the adolescent years, when teens are starting to find themselves, immigrants are often confused and depressed. The best thing about being an immigrant is that you often have seen more of the world than your American counterparts. Immigrants are enriched with an unique culture and gift of rich heritage and of course pride for not one, but two countries!!
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Second Prize Poetry 2004:
Choosing Names
by Grace H., Singapore/California, Age 14
"Fill in your name."
The teacher says.
Such a simple statement to all...
All except me.
My classmates bend over their papers
And darken the bubbles quickly.
They are so sure of who they are.
I sit there,
Uncertain, unmoving.
For which name am I supposed to use?
There is the Chinese name
I was born with;
It is printed on all my documents.
Officially, I am labeled by that name,
And yet it sounds foreign even to me.
Because over the years
I have spent in this country,
This land called America,
People have been calling me by another name:
Easier to speak, easier to spell.
And this is the name I see myself as.
But no matter how I feel,
No matter what I want...
When my hand picks up the pencil
And moves to the paper,
It is the Chinese name
That I must write.
Grace on life between cultures: The hardest things are probably finding authentic Asian food, picking names (as my poem suggests) and finding clothes that fit in but at the same time reflect my heritage. The best thing is that people think you're smart, and they respect you for knowing other languages and foods and cultures.
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Third Prize Poetry 2004:
Standing Strong
by Beatrice E., Philippines/California, Age 13
Some people look but they can't see,
They mocked and judged someone like me.
But soon they'll realize they were wrong,
'Cause here I am still standing strong.
I know I'm different from the crowd,
But I am here still strong and proud.
Distinct and special in my own way,
Still standing in the light of day.
So in the end, it came to me,
That they have all been wrong.
Look now at what I can be,
Someone standing strong.
Beatrice on life between cultures: I think it's so hard to leave all your friends behind and live in a foreign country where you don't know anyone. It was really hard to find true friends like the ones I had, but eventually, friends came to me in time. Most of them came from the same country. I'm very thankful that I've learned from all my experiences here and like my poem, these difficulties have made me strong. The best thing about being am immigrant is learning the different culture of this new place. There is just so much to see and discover. The sky's the limit!
The 2003 Fire Escape Poetry Contest Winners
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First Prize 2003 Poetry:
Two Worlds
by Natasha G., India/Alabama, Age 14
What is this strange mysterious world,
in which I hide and try to get by?
A mixture of two worlds fused together,
I am not part of one or the other.
Living each day one step at a time,
changing myself in every breath that I take.
Balancing two worlds in the palm of my hand speaking
two languages one of each land.
The love for both's food, the hate for both's prejudice,
my brain and heart speak different languages.
Two accents leap from my tongue.
Have I two homes or have I none?
Natasha on life between cultures: The hardest thing about balancing two cultures would probably have to be adjusting to new things around you, while still mantaining your heritage.The best thing would be knowing so much about two cultures and gaining experiences from both.
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Second Prize 2003 Poetry:
The Perfect One
by Zhan Tao Y., China/Nevada, Age 14
The perfect one, that’s who I am.
The best of the best, I stand alone.
No one knows my name.
I am only there for one purpose.
One purpose only.
To them, I am the perfect one
I am the one who loves to read,
To those crowds of hypocrites,
With their plastered, manicured smiles,
I am perfect; I shall never fail.
I must be the best; I must be perfect.
I must maintain my family tree.
For the rest, they can idle all they want.
I shall soar higher than they ever dare to dream.
They are there, waiting for me to fail; I know it.
I know that I must not blow it.
I shall remain to all as I seem,
Perfect, unconquerable, withstanding.
Zhan Tao on life between cultures: The hardest thing about balancing two cultures is that there is no one place that you can say you truly belong. Human nature and instinct have taught us that we should always be defined as one thing or another, so balancing two cultures does not fit into that teaching. Though youcan try your hardest at trying to fit in, you will always be known to both cultures as the opposite culture. The best thing about being an immigrant is that you get to help make the place you immigrate to a better place, for you bring with you the best -- and worst -- of the customs, culture, and ethnic background of where you come from. These customs will eventually become part of the place you go to and help to make the place more unique.
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Third Prize 2003 Poetry:
From Russia With Love
by Laura S., Russia/New York, Age 13
They look in my face.
They can tell I'm from a different place.
I look at them with pride.
I tell them you'd like me if you tried.
They don't want to be my friend.
They think hanging out with Russians is no trend.
I reassure myself it is not a crime to have an accent.
I know it is not bad to know two languages in any event.
They have inspired me to appreciate who I am.
They made me treat my two language like a gem.
I realized you must understand some folks are ignorant.
I also know when you ignore them, you're truly brilliant.
Laura on life between cultures: The hardest thing about balancing two cultures is not forgetting your native language. You often have a temptation to speak English in front of relatives who only speak Russian. It is also pretty difficult to approach ethical values. What seems right from one culture, seems wrong from another. The best thing about being an immigrant is having the ability to communicate in a whole different language. You can use this for practical things like on the job and for fun, like annoying your friends who don't understand the language. I think I'm blessed to know two languages and be a part of two cultures.