Where I’m From Poem

I am from the backyard olive tree,

Sunny afternoons glistening off the grape vines,

From jasmine flowers and rose water,

Fresh herbs and exotic spices.

The peaceful beauty of suburbia,

A Golden State,

The image of perfection.

I am from soccer balls and shin guards,

Grassy fields and bruised legs.

From loving teammates and lifelong friendships,

Obligatory torture sessions,

The persistent ache after a tournament,

A loving hatred an athlete develops,

The sport that consumed my life.

I am from endless energy,

Emotional fighters and stubborn lovers,

From “you have a male personality,”

And “girls, go help in the kitchen!”

The Arab-Hispanic hybrid,

A father who fought in the Lebanese civil war,

The mother whose identity depended on her children.

I am from books and bows,

Tan baby dolls and Theresa barbies,

From the brave heroines in my favorite novels,

Battling their demons while I run from my own,

The cultural hybrid of a liberal-conservative conflict,

A broken family haphazardly patched up,

The pain that never fades away.

I am from the nomads,

Searching for a shelter,

Running from their homes.


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