Read the instructor’s introduction<\/a> The objective for this collection of poetry is to expand upon immigration and cultural silences as Monica Ong does in Silent Anatomies<\/em>. This project will explore the cultural ties immigrants carry with them to the United States and their struggle to assimilate into a new culture while clinging to, or rejecting, their past. Culture, as these poems will argue, stays with us, and can either empower us or hinder us.<\/p>\n Like in Silent Anatomies<\/em>, where many of Ong\u2019s poems are spoken through the voice of Medica, most of the following poems will be spoken through the voice of Lazaro. Lazaro, in this context, represents an immigrant of Filipino background. The content of some of these poems draw on personal stories of my father\u2019s immigration to the United States and his struggle to assimilate into American culture. The themes of the poems stem from the unintended tradition my father and I started. When he cooked fish and rice, he told me stories of his life in the Philippines as we ate together. These stories filled my head as a child and gave me an intimate feeling of what Filipino culture is. They have urged me to return to my roots and inspired the common symbol of these poems: the Narra tree. The Narra tree is the national tree of the Philippines because it is resilient and strong. It is meant to represent the cultural pride that every Filipino immigrant may carry with them. Many of the times, I write about how a Narra tree grows out of Lazaro\u2019s back, making his culture \u201cnoticeable.\u201d For many immigrants, not only is their physical appearance noticeable to Americans, but also their mannerisms that stem from their culture.<\/p>\n This project begins with the poem \u201cLazaro.\u201d The original idea stems from how people could not pronounce my father\u2019s last name when he immigrated to the United States. The style, therefore, follows Lazaro\u2019s identity in his home country and how he struggles to adapt in the United States. The poem is meant to introduce Lazaro to the reader and orient them at the beginning of Lazaro\u2019s journey. The poems following Lazaro incorporate several poetic styles. \u201cMag I\u00f1gat\u201d is written in prose, some are coupled with photos, and many poems contain phrases in Tagalog and Spanish. The different styles are meant to engage the reader with imagery, as Ong does in Silent Anatomies<\/em>.<\/p>\n As it comes to a close, the project questions whether immigrants should forget their cultural roots and accept American culture as their own or acknowledge their cultural roots and integrate them into their new lives in the United States. There is not a wrong answer, but Lazaro will show us the pieces of culture many of immigrants choose to embrace, as well as forget.<\/p>\n A Cultural Journey<\/strong><\/p>\n Lazaro<\/p>\n Lazaro. Lazaro is from the earth, Lazaro is freedom.<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 escape<\/em> Lazaro. Mag I\u00f1gat <\/em>[2]<\/p>\n The winter of 1982 was the first snowfall for Lazaro. November chills shocked the Narra\u2019s <\/em>[3] roots, unused to the chill. Shouldering branches and unburdened baggage, Lazaro steps off the plane. Cadiz gave him 5 dollars. One crumpled dollar curled from the cold in his pocket. It will have to do. I will be fine.<\/em><\/p>\n No one told him that the streets weren\u2019t paved of gold, the dirt paths in the village seemed freer. No one told him that white ghosts would threaten to swallow him whole, I will be fine.<\/em><\/p>\n Last of nine, Lazaro was the first to plant our seeds in the snow.<\/p>\n And they grew into a forest.<\/p>\n We will be fine.<\/em><\/p>\n Girls aren\u2019t supposed to swim.<\/p>\n I want you to sail the Ocean.<\/p>\n Growth<\/p>\n When I came to America, I went to a doctor When I did, the Narra sprung from the earth. Q & A<\/strong><\/p>\n When they ask you<\/strong> Maybe then the <\/strong>ghosts will leave you<\/strong> For Them<\/p>\n One Nation under God, indivisible, But not for us.<\/em><\/p>\n Cloudy Days are Better than Cloudless Nights<\/p>\n My sister\u2019s skin was the sky at dusk. She wanted her body to be a cloudy day. Dawn is Better than Dusk<\/p>\n My Daughter, your skin is the sky at dawn. The Moon is jealous, 1999<\/p>\n Ancestry<\/p>\n Stories are best told with rice. Rice is best with fish. When you ask me Be careful. 1. Patr\u00eda adorada<\/em> translates to \u201cbeloved country,\u201d alluding to the poem “Mi \u00daltimo Adi\u00f3s”<\/em> by Jos\u00e9 Rizal. Rizal is known as the Philippines\u2019 national hero. \u201cCurrent Fires.\u201d National Parks Service, U.S. Department of the Interior, 27 Mar. 2018, www.nps.gov\/seki\/learn\/nature\/current_fires.htm.<\/p>\n Webster, Gord. Photograph of the roots of a narra tree. Flickr, 16 Mar. 2013, www.flickr.com\/photos\/thievingjoker\/8562080801<\/p>\n Photo from \u201cFlag of the United States.\u201d Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 21 Apr. 2018, Ogaki, Mihoko. Photograph of sitting sculpture. Mori Yu Gallery, 30 Sep. 2014, Hallie Lazaro Read the instructor’s introduction Read the writer’s comments and bio Download this essay Critical Introduction The objective for this collection of poetry is to expand upon immigration and cultural silences as Monica Ong does in Silent Anatomies. This project will explore the cultural ties immigrants carry with them to the United States and […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4801,"featured_media":0,"parent":12881,"menu_order":10,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/writingprogram\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/12907"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/writingprogram\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/writingprogram\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/writingprogram\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4801"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/writingprogram\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12907"}],"version-history":[{"count":37,"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/writingprogram\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/12907\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":13229,"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/writingprogram\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/12907\/revisions\/13229"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/writingprogram\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/12881"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bu.edu\/writingprogram\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12907"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nRead the writer’s comments and bio<\/a>
\nDownload this essay<\/a><\/p>\nCritical Introduction<\/h2>\n
\nThe Life Cycle of a Tree<\/h2>\n
\n
\nPronounced \u201cl\u00e1-sah-row\u201d<\/em><\/span>
\nMeaning: Help of God.<\/p>\n
\ndeep roots, dark and knotted.
\nLazaro comes from patr\u00eda adorada, <\/em>pearl of the orient.<\/p>\n
\nLazaro is the sound of wind roaring<\/span> \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 running<\/em>
\nFlying over seas.<\/p>\n
\nPronounced \u201cLah-zza-row.\u201d<\/em>
\nLazaro is foreign soil on the tongue.
\nWet and choking.
\nGod help Lazaro.
\n[1]<\/p>\n
\n
\nor that the snow would seep into his salted bones and run them dry.<\/p>\n
\n![\"\"](\"\/writingprogram\/files\/2018\/07\/Lazarro-1.png\")
[4]<\/p>\n
\n![\"\"](\"\/writingprogram\/files\/2018\/07\/Lazarro-2-text.png\")
<\/p>\n
\n
\na Narra tree grew from my back.
\nIts gnarled roots became one with my spine.
\nIts leaves tickled my ear, and told me stories
\nI tried to forget.<\/p>\n
\nbecause I was getting a lot of stares.
\nHe prescribed me an axe and
\ntold me to cut it down and bury it
\nin the backyard.<\/p>\n
\nAnd I watered it.<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"\/writingprogram\/files\/2018\/07\/Lazarro-3.png\")
<\/p>\n
\n
\n\u201cWhere are you from?\u201d<\/strong>
\nAnswer with,<\/strong>
\nthe same place as you,<\/strong>
\nhome.<\/strong><\/p>\n
\nalone.<\/strong><\/p>\n
\n![\"\"](\"\/writingprogram\/files\/2018\/07\/Lazarro-4.png\")
<\/p>\n
\nwith Liberty and Justice for all<\/span>.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 them<\/em><\/p>\n
\n
\nUgly with its shades of color.
\nHideous with its intense depth,
\nscarred,
\nlike tilled soil in the sugarcane fields.<\/p>\n
\nAll white.
\nSo she scoured her skin
\nwith a machete,
\nAnd scrubbed away the night sky.<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"\/writingprogram\/files\/2018\/07\/Lazarro-5.png\")
<\/p>\n
\n
\nBeautiful with its shades of color.
\nWondrous with its intense depth,
\nscarred,
\nLike bark.<\/p>\n
\nand tries to scorn you.
\nDo not listen to Her.
\nFor the Sun is more interesting
\nthan the Moon.<\/p>\n
\n
\nMy Inang<\/em> [5] would let me sit
\nunder the ironing board
\nas she worked.
\nShe would talk to me,
\nand fill my canopy with stories,
\nand tell me of the past.When I was a sapling,
\nMy Inang<\/em> would tell
\nme that I, the youngest son,
\nwould inherit the land.
\nShe would say this as I
\nrecited a poem about
\nan old, yellow dog.When I grew tall,
\nInang<\/em> whispered to me less.
\nI no longer recited a poem about
\nan old, yellow dog.
\nI did not inherit the land.I moved my roots.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n
\nSit next to me.
\nI will give you some of my leaves and sew them into your canopy.
\nLet us talk together.<\/strong>Dearest Daughter,
\nDo not let anyone
\nsnatch the forest I cultivated
\nlong ago.
\nCare for it. It is yours.
\nSing Mi \u00daltimo Adi\u00f3s<\/em>
\nto it.<\/strong>When you grow tall,
\nDo not listen to the whispers
\nthat tell you to be silent.
\nSing your poem.
\nCultivate your forest.<\/strong>Stand your ground.<\/strong><\/p>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\nWhen you wash the rice, pour the water
\nover the Narra out back, it likes it best.
\nFill the pot with rice and water, use your thumb.<\/p>\n
\nWatch me pull a fish from my ear,
\nI\u2019ll wrap it in banana leaf and steam it.
\nWatch the steam, it will tell stories
\nfrom my inang bayan. <\/em>[6]<\/p>\n
\nif these stories will be forgotten,
\nI\u2019ll give you \u00adsiopao<\/em>.<\/p>\n
\nIn the middle,
\nis a Narra seed<\/p>\n
\nNotes<\/h2>\n
\n2. Mag I\u00f1gat<\/em> is a phrase in Tagalog that roughly translates to \u201csafe travels.\u201d
\n3. The Narra tree is the national tree of the Philippines.
\n4. My Father and I, 1999.
\n5. Inang<\/em> translates to mother.
\n6. Inang bayan<\/em> translates to motherland.<\/p>\nWorks Cited<\/h2>\n
\nen.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Flag_of_the_United_States.<\/p>\n
\nwww.moriyu-gallery.com\/artists\/<\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"