Last Monday I was special
fine hair
fair skin
I wished they wouldn’t touch, stare
my mother made beautiful clothes
with patterns from overseas.
That wasn’t home.

Today I am not special
plain hair
mottled skin
now I wish they’d look in my eyes
my mother makes outmoded clothes
with patterns ten years old.
Where is home?

© 2008 S D Haydon

This poem is about cultural transition, re-entry, reverse culture shock… all TCKs have experienced it, and know what it’s like. I went from being special in Africa, to very, very, ordinary (even downright unattractive) in my birth country.

I’ve also shared this at the My.TCKID Writers’ group, under Sharing Space.

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