I am white and I am other.
I am Australian bread and butter
and Asian exotic.
I fit fully into neither camp
but grew up loudly naïve enough to make my own.
And that, I fully inhabit.
I am a woman
Who never stopped to think that
I am a human who knows
I am also the whole world.
And, I am the awareness that holds it.
I am the honey skin envied by white and brown,
and the intellect that screams in defiance
At being defined
by beauty and colour
and improbable ideals.
I feel privileged and unsafe,
I know too much, so
I both stand tall and shrink under the gaze of men.
I am clear and confused
Which must make me
different and no different,
I am from a broken home
And a wholehearted mother,
my family straddles both sides of the river
which maybe makes me the hanging bridge,..
It gives me the advantage of great perspective.
I am undefined and middle born,
I am torn through the hearts of humans
Breaking over the whole world.
And I am made whole by love
That keeps knocking, because home
Will always call you.
And finally, I know myself
through hard-won looking, persistent listening,
ceaseless searching and incessant questioning.
I know where I belong.
Here, in my own center.
I am, I am, I am.
And I am willing.
To see you. To hear you.
To stand with you. To walk with you.
To fight with you. To celebrate you.
To love you. To make spaces where
we can sit together, in peace.
To understand and to be told by you.
We are, we are, we are.
Not one. We are dazzlingly unique.
But the same.