“My Rosy Cousin” wins 3rd place in UH Poetry Contest

So I just found out that a poem I had written about one of my crazier cousins won 3rd place in a University of Hawaii writing contest called the Ian MacMillan Writing Award. The writing contest is sponsored by the English Department and it’s open to the public, not just students. You can find out more info about the award here: http://www.kaleo.org/hawaii_review/ian_macmillan/ I had submitted that piece on a fluke, and really hadn’t expected it to win so it was a very nice surprise! Not to mention the other poets who won 2nd and 1st place – Lyz Soto and Rajiv Mohabir, are phenomenal poets whom I really admire.

One of the first things I had to do when I first found out I won, was facebook message my cousin and let her know I had written about her. This brought back a memory from a few years ago when one of my cousins mentioned off handedly that, “You have to watch what you say around Dede – she might write about you.” (quick fyi – Dede is my family nickname. It’s Marshallese and it’s a sort of shorthand of the way one might pronounce Kathy with a Marshallese accent.) “You have to watch what you say around Dede – she might write about you,” sounds pretty close to threatening – kinda funny.

Which brings to mind a few issues with writing in general. Namely, what to do when you want to write about family members – and it isn’t always the rosiest picture? What kinds of responsibility do you have to take for airing out the skeletons in your family’s closet?

I know that for my poetry, I’ve been very selective with what I’ve shared and what I haven’t.

And yet, I also wish I could just publish and write anything without having to worry – there are a lot of conversations revolving around abuse and addiction that I wish was more openly discussed. In my mind, it just seems healthier to acknowledge these struggles and talk through them rather than sweeping them under the rug and pretending they don’t exist. How will we ever find solutions to our problems if we don’t acknowledge them?

Either way, in the end I would always choose to put my family’s needs first. So if they don’t want a particular piece out there, then I would respect their wishes. This means taking the crucial step of sharing their poems with them – which is incredibly scary for me, but might ultimately lead to healing as well (at least I hope so. I haven’t tried often enough just yet).

Anyways, luckily my cousin loved the poem when I showed it to her. She said it’s not only true but really funny. I was worried she might not like it or might be offended by it – it’s pretty raw and honest to be real and not all of it is super flattering (eg – sections which highlight my experiences with her drunken nights – which were actually pretty entertaining if you understand Marshallese and if you knew her. “Kwonej loe” translates to “You’ll see” – a very infamous and common Marshallese threat older siblings and parents use all the time).

To be real, though, the poem commemorates an important relationship I had growing up. My cousin, with all her beautiful imperfections, had a huge influence on the way I was shaped and how I saw the world, even when it meant being bullied for being the “white” one of the family because I liked poetry and piano (we can go into internalized racism on another post lol that would take a while) or how she re-introduced me to rebellion and alcoholism (the funny bits), family shaming (also funny – in a heartbreaking sort of way at times), and how we processed living in the diaspora (“doesn’t that sound just like home?” was a line we constantly repeated – how home, the Marshall Islands, was constantly in our thoughts, even when we were so far away).

Either way,  it wasn’t all bullying and somewhat unhealthy dynamics – it was through her that I first learned about the Pacific Island studies department at UH – that there were actually Pacific people who studied our cultures and histories. She was the one who introduced me to the pacific greats such as Albert Wendt, Sia Figiel, Epeli Hau’ofa. She also continues to be known as the best storyteller in our family, hands down – no one can tell a story about any of our aunties and cousins and grandparents the way that she does. She can get the entire room rolling on the floor laughing.

So here’s “My Rosy Cousin” in it’s entirety:

My Rosy Cousin

My cousin is bloody roses tatted / on her ankle / her knuckles

white as rice / gripping the steering wheel / cruising

thru manoa / sunglasses ignoring those redred lights

My cousin is one cold pepsi one chocolate hershey bar /

the daily ransom for driving me to school / lets make

a quickstop / pitstop / 7eleven / gimme your money /

you live with your parents / you don’t gotta pay rent

My cousin is four a.m. taptaptaps on the window / slurred threats /

Koppeloke kojem en/ kwonej loe / passed out on the front lawn / 

mom’s pissed again / ritto bata tossed between aunties lips /

when will she ever learn / coffee cups and morning gossip

My cousin is bullying / dede you’re so stupid / dede you’re so useless /

other times she cuts/ straight thru bone / dede you’re as white / white /

white as they come / i mean what other marshallese writes /

poetry and plays piano

My cousin goes to college / talks about classes with hawaiian professors

and tongan scholars / tells us tragic samoan love stories and funny

fijian satires / doesn’t that sound just like home / doesn’t that sound just like Majuro

My cousin is foreign movie nights / dvds from the sinclair library / porcelain

women and hibiscus lipstick / arched bare backs against dew drop mountains /

thick cigars and smoky brothels / how we swoon over those poetic subtitles

My cousin asked me to write a poem / a poem about her / so i said that i would /

a poem about how i bloomed / inside her voice / how i was also pruned /

cut raw / dripping bloody / just like her ankle red roses