What Haunts You

It hides in the corners of my every day.

It sneaks in under the radar.

It lives in the subtlety of the underlining plainness.

I don't notice it because I don't have to.

I grew up with this Filipino nose

And these almond shaped eyes.

This sun-kissed skin and short slight frame.

And the privilege of Privilege.

My heart doesn't carry with it the strength of my ancestors

The history of my bloodline.

I am a blank slate with the fortune of being embraced

Into a home with love and laughter

And the advantages of my parents.

I didn't want for food.

I didn't want for shelter.

I didn't want for an education.

I never feared for my safety.

I never questioned authority.

I never worried about making it another day.

[Insert here the hardships]

[The struggle]

[The fight]

[I never had to stand up for]

My parents worked hard.
I've worked hard.

Our hardships were significant.

But different.

And yet --

Are still afforded the luxuries of pale skin

And light features.

It haunts me

And yet it has protected me.

The White Privilege of a Brown Girl