Jose Padua: On the Distant Prospect of Three Mile Island
The distant prospect of Three Mile Island
from the window of our hotel room this
December day reminds me of how
underrepresented my people have been
in the popular culture of the land. Why?
Because to be in the minority is to always
be reminded of where one is not, is to be
reminded of when one is included, is to be
impelled to always be grateful when one’s
existence is acknowledged, recognized
when what is wanted is to simply exist,
to walk like a boy or a girl on the grass
wearing a hat because it is a sunny day,
to eat because one is hungry, to drink
because there are so few things that can live
without thirst and still embrace the concept
of living. I am not experiencing a meltdown
when I refuse to tell you what country I’m from;
I am not overreacting when I tell you that
what you want to plant won’t grow here.
And love, for me, is not a political act. It is
part of the process by which I endure, the system
that contains everything in the world that is mine.