go back where�you came from
an asian american experience
by summer dawn
June 19, 1954
Chattanooga, Tennessee
Samuel Irving Colinco, my grandfather, arrives at Tennessee Temple University, where he will receive his Master of Divinity Studies.
March 13, 1961
Chicago, Illinois
Rosita Caña Colinco, my grandmother, begins her first day in America as a nurse.
September 30, 1983
Glendale, California
My parents are married.
June 8, 1990
Fort Polk, Louisiana
I am born. I am an only child. I am a miracle, defying the almost end of my parents’ marriage and the almost end of my mother’s life. I will have several homes.
Fort Bragg,
North Carolina
Colorado Springs,
Colorado
Jersey City,
New Jersey
April 6, 2020
Paterson, New Jersey
An angry racist tells me to go back where I came from, and to take it back with me.
I think he means to go back to China, and to fold COVID-19 neatly into origami pieces that fit snugly into lucky money envelopes redder than his face.
Under my mask I mouth the words I’d use to tell him off if he didn’t look so angry.
If I didn’t feel so unsafe.
I know he means I should go back to China. But I contemplate buying a ticket to Colorado, the Carolinas, Louisiana. Everywhere. Anywhere.
March 14, 2020
Paterson, New Jersey
He sneers at the hand sanitizer on my table the same way everyone sneered at my almond eyes on the bus.
I live with relative privilege, and it was a shock when no one would sit next to me. Or in front of me. Or behind me.
The racist laughs at the books on my table, all written and drawn by women of color, because he thinks these stories don’t belong here in his America.
He walks away and goes back to where he came from. I seethe under my mask.
We are not a disease.
We belong here just like you.
We speak the languages we need to speak.
We are not a disease.
We did not create the coronavirus.
We are not a model minority.
We are not OK with you oppressing our BIPOC brethren.
We are not a disease.
We will not go back where we came from.
We are here to stay.