Critics

By: Victoria G. Smith

 

What can I say that no one else has already said?
All the stories, songs, and poems have already
been sung and told.
It’s hard to be original nowadays.
So if anyone claims to be—
don’t believe him readily.
There are many liars in this world.
Word warlocks would give us formulae to summon
feelings, as if on cue.
As if they’ve mapped the whole range of human emotions—
all tagged, labeled, classified.
So that words, by coded placements,
would seize us with enchantment of recognition—
Yes, this, at last, is true!
Dare I say I’ve hoarded melodies and fabrications
that’ve escaped the scrutiny of the wicked?
Hardly do I claim this, and here they are already:
picking on my words with pens poised like daggers,
certain they are separating chaff from grain,
aborting a poor harvest,
hacking at the grains of my truth.
Silly people.
Don’t they know you can’t cut raw grains of rice
with dull knives?

Poet’s Notes. In recent years, a big lesson as regards being an immigrant writer in the United States has re-asserted itself in a major way to me: the critical importance of believing in my self and my voice, no matter what anyone says, and despite all the naysayers.

Yet some years back, I felt my best chance to get published by mainstream traditional American publishers was for me to conform my voice to what the latter presumably wanted, based on what they published. I learned to become a chameleon, blending in with my environment. I had some success doing this, until I got tired of conforming, of being what I was not. I stopped caring about what others thought of my work—which came after I stopped caring of what others thought of me. I allowed myself the freedom of just being me, and my work simply reflected that. Ironically, it was when I did this that I met with even greater publishing and other successes. It was when I ceased laying my work at the mercy of the others’ opinion that more of them seemed to think highly of it, to want more of it. Interesting how this worked. I did not predict that.

Another thing I did not predict but should have likewise anticipated was my own people—my fellow Filipinos—minimizing, even outrightly dismissing my publishing successes. In a couple of very recent incidents, I had naively joyfully shared some of my publishing success with two Facebook Filipino groups. In one, a woman challenged the propriety of my sharing the good news of my Philippine culture and history-inspired novella winning a U.S. literary contest and accordingly being published by an American publisher, while accusing me of merely wanting to publicize my “looks” (presumably because the post naturally included my media photo). In another, a man contemptuously asked, “Who is (this) Vicki Smith (anyway)?”— his attempt to taint my successes by alluding to and attacking yet again my acts in recent years in speaking the truth about the vicious political games he and other leaders in my local Fil-Am community have been playing to the detriment of our own people.

Of course, these incidents saddened me—but not so much for personal reasons. I am sad for my people. For, to me, these were yet again another demonstration of a cultural flaw of ours—which I have made my writer’s mission to expose whenever and wherever I find it. They remind me that Filipino crab mentality is still alive and well, wherever Filipinos can be found—whether in the Philippines, the United States, or anywhere else in the world.

Although it is true Filipinos don’t have a monopoly over this type of behavior, it must also be said that this cultural trait appears to be on steroids particularly in Filipino communities. This phenomenon has repeatedly displayed itself to me in my more than twenty years experience in various Philippine communities across the United States, and confided to me by my friends in other cultural groups.

As a writer, it is my responsibility to write the truth as I see it, even if it is a sad truth about my own people. And I know many of my people will burn me for this, over and over again. This is my burden. But I cannot help myself—it’s my nature not to think about what happens to me as more important than speaking the truth courageously. In this, I am trouble itself. The story of my life. Yet I am grateful for this, for I consider it my privilege and honor to live a true writer’s calling.

I find sympathetic parallelisms in scripture. A prophet is never welcome in his own village. Thus, I persist and persevere, drawing comfort, strength, and joy from my many other fellow Filipinos and friends—Filipinos or not—who support my writing and me. My heartfelt thanks to them.

A new year has come upon us. I call upon my fellow Filipinos to include among our new year’s resolutions to cut out crab mentality from what defines us as a people.

(All rights reserved. Copyright © 2016 by Victoria G. Smith. For updates on her author events & publications, go to VictoriaGSmith.com. “Like” her on Facebook at Author Victoria G. Smith. “Follow” her on Twitter @AuthorVGSmith)