A timeline of us: A poem

photo of a mother and daughter
Madeline Kim/Courtesy

1972 South Korea. Black hair and almond eyes and parted lips; impatience intertwined with red blood. It is quiet and you are crying: a baby swaddled in fragmented memories and a mother’s tears. The air is smoky, sweet, sea-foam blue and pearly pink. An attempt to speak leads to a
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An escapism detour

It's a Chronic Thing

When my own body starts to feel less like a home than ever, I will gladly escape into my favorite things for a while.
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Photo of Marina Román Cantú

Call me by my (real) name

Cal in Color

It’s been only since arriving in the United States that I’ve subconsciously “Americanized” my name to suit the American English phonetic pronunciation.
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Rebel, rebel

It's a Chronic Thing

Instead of puncturing a hole through my face, I had to find different ways to get that coming-of-age movie feeling. Something only teenage rebellion gives.
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Photo of Elise Kim

Can you just hold me?

Things I Didn't Say

In my self-imposed isolation, it felt inappropriate to ask for a hand to hold. Growing up in a culture where conversation about emotions were rare, opening that door felt close to impossible.
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