I’m tired, to say it frankly: tired of looking into the mirror and trying to convince myself that my eyes are two shades lighter than the brown eyes of other Asians because to you my eyes are the color of dirt, of dead leaves littered on the ground, of swamp water endlessly suspended in mud while your eyes are the color of waves crashing onto the beach just as they catch the sunlight’s rays and of blue moons and of blue skies; tired of despising my own skin because to you my skin is the color of urine and of jaundice as the livers of sick patients fail and I should lighten it because your skin is the color of delicate egg shells and of brilliant clouds as they drift in the endless sky; tired of convincing myself that I am not a nerd because to you when I am good at math, I am a nerd, a geek, the teacher’s pet while you are preppy, educated, sophisticated; tired of feeling un-American because you whisper in my ear that America is not a melting pot, but its too late because I’ve woken up and I’ve found myself because I know that the color of my skin is the color of stars and of Belle’s dress and of the majestic sun as it rains down upon the Earth; know that my eyes are the color of Earth, the Earth that embodies hope and happiness and life itself; know that twenty years into the future, the nerds are going to be the ones leading the technological revolution and the geeks are going to be the ones who running the world; know that you walk of path of divergence, of tearing apart cultures until only scraps remain on the ivory floor; perhaps in twenty years you too will come to the realization that America is not a race but a people…  but until then don’t you dare go pointing fingers and calling names at me because I know that I am American.