The Journalist

I am a woman with a foreign face — 

Apple-pie American (born Chinese).

Nothing I do will ever hide my race.

Nothing I am bears those parentheses. 

I wield a pen, this fine and fearless sword,

To open doors for which there are no keys.

The written word’s the law, the law’s the word.

No one I know deserves parentheses.

The newspaper I work for is the place

I bring these hate-crime villains to their knees — 

Writing the wrongs that plague the human race.

Nothing I am wears those parentheses.

Whenever foreign faces take the stand

Against injustice, fear deadens their pleas.

Nothing I am, except a helping hand.

Nothing we are, chained by parentheses.

That foreign face, my countryman, is you,

Whose ancestors once settled overseas.

Congratulations, you are foreign too,

Though seldom have you worn parentheses.