“at the edge of enough”

Julia Gay

Chinese | Minneapolis, MN | she/they | Non-Profit

An ask went out into the community
for API volunteers to marshal the DefundMPD march
“This is your time to show up as API for Black Lives” they said
And show up we did
As marshals and marchers and angry civilians
With our signs and our BLM masks
We march downed University Ave

They call out their names 
And we echo in response

Michael Brown
Eric Garner
Oscar Grant
Atatiana Jefferson
Freddie Gray
Ahmaud Arbery
Terence Crutcher
Bettie Jones
Trayvon Martin
Laquan McDonald
Philando Castile
Dominique White
Breonna Taylor
George Floyd 

My voice is hoarse
Parts of names get caught on the hangnails of my throat
Others muffled by my mask

Is it bad I don’t even recognize all of their names?

Don’t know their ages, where they lived, the name of the mother who mourns them
The sound of their laughter, the way they took their morning coffee–– with cream, no sugar

Maybe they were too young to like the bitter taste of coffee

Maybe I skimmed their name in a headline
As I scrolled mindlessly through my news feed 
Scrolled mindlessly through
News feeding me 
Mindlessly feeding news through me
Scrolled through me feeding me mindlessly 
News

of another Black person murdered by police

A sign flashes overhead
It reads “Asians for Black Lives Matter,”
and I wonder
Would I remember all their names if they looked more like me?
Would I march longer? Chant louder? Sob more violently?
Would I feel something more sharp and biting than the numbness in my gut
If it were my cousin?
my auntie?
my son?

Are we Asians doing enough for Black Lives Matter?
Is waving a sign enough?
If waving a sign is not enough, how much closer to enough does it get us?

I notice my feet are sore 
My socks have scrunched up 
Leaving my shoes free to scratch away 
at the rawness of my ankles
I think to myself, “My feet are sore for Black Lives Matter”
“My ankles bleed for Black Lives Matter”
But enough feels so infinitely far away

I suppose we’d have to pause for moment 
before we arrive at the edge of enough
Still our breath
Give gratitude to our breath
Stare at ourselves
reflected in the waters of this land Mni Sota Makoce 
that hold too the expansiveness the clouds above
Perhaps we must first love our own brownness 
Love with no abandon 
the brownness of our skin, 
the brownness of our accents,
the brownness of the way we grow our food and move our bodies

Before we take to the streets chanting 
“Black is beautiful”
“Black is beautiful”
“Black is so so beautiful”

Before those words plant seeds in our hearts

Julia Gay is a dancer, playwright and stand-up comedian. She is a Chinese adoptee who writes and creates to bridge the vastness between memory, heart and home. Julia is a dancer with Ananya Dance Theatre and was the recipient of The Playwrights’ Center’s 2017-18 Many Voices Mentorship. In October 2019, as part of Dreamland Arts’ Theaterwalla program, Julia produced her one-woman show, Motherlanded, exploring her personal narrative as a Chinese adoptee. Learn more about her work at www.juliagay.com.

The first draft of this poem was written as part of the Kaleidoscope Project produced by Rebecca Nicolson and the East Side Freedom Library last summer at the height of the Uprising.