On Choosing Hope

On Choosing Hope

By Shel Zhou

I hate the face in the mirror. 

I hate the slightly crooked nose, 

smashed into a brick wall 

In the second grade 

I hate the weak and thin chin 

Withstander of years of brutal dental 

Operations 

I hate the small mouth, 

Pressed together in a staunch refusal to consume

Despite yowling protests of a constantly empty stomach

I hate the raised cheekbones 

That squish into the eyes to press them too thin

The subject of primary school mockery, still echoing painfully

I hate that taut, sallow skin 

With an almost wax-like quality, stretched too thin over

Bones and flesh, like a poorly constructed Galatea

I hate that face in the mirror 

I hate that world, that wanton capitalism and American

dream turned American greed 

I hate big oil and the fat cats of the market, the only

Immovable pillar in our ever-changing society 

I hate the rampant blind destruction caused by blundering old

mules and the vicious, designated stamps of 

The stubborn and clouded old elephants, as we ants 

scamper underfoot 

I hate that Earth, I hate it's vicious peoples 

Who kill and maim and rape and start wars they will never wage

Snatch books from the hands of children and burn them by the page

Who feel nothing feasting on the pleas of the innocents they damn

and turn us into nihilists, spout their hypocritic jargon and 2025 plans

I hate that I, woman, am not equal by your God 

I hate that I, chinese, am not equal by your Laws 

I, queer, do not even come close to the prospect of deserving

any sort of judgment by your measure 

And I am a child 

What can I do but hate? 

Oh… 

But - 

I… 

I love that Earth. 

I love the crashing of colossal cerulean waves 

I love fresh and cool rain sliding down from rich green

canopies and dancing like a symphony on 

forest floors 

I love the mountains, lifting visionaries who dream of

touching the heavens upwards through the 

nebulous clouds 

I love the shadows casted by the sun and stars 

That threw mankind into the throes of thrilling adventures

In science and mathematics 

I love that Earth and its beautiful people, 

it’s strong and brave mothers and idealistic children 

And battered but kind elders and people with warm hearts

I love that world and its gentle wind and pattering rain I

love that face in the mirror 

I love that crooked smile with teeth fitting like 

a jack-o-lantern’s grin 

I love that soft thickness of eyebrows from my mom

and my grandma and her mom before her 

I love the moles dotting around my eyes and hidden

By hair on my forehead like little constellations 

I love that melanated skin the color of olive oil and 

sun-kissed, ocean-fresh pearls with a natural sheen 

I love those dark eyes that go on and on forever 

like a cool tunnel under a bridge, providing shady summer solace

I love the bump of bone in that nose, as bumpy a ride

As my great grandfather’s, riding to fight the Japanese in World War II

and defend his village 

I love the crinkle on either side of the lips 

That form from a smile, the mark of a happy memory

Despite, albeit, although, yet 

I love that face in the mirror and I choose to do it 

A little bit more than I hate it 

So I haul myself up every morning to see that face 

In the mirror 

And remind myself of all the reasons 

Despite, albeit, although, yet 

I survive to fight for her