# data[].attributes.body
“I wrote my thesis on the inevitable influence of blood quantum policies on modern Native identity, and literature written by mixed-blood Native authors that influenced identity in Native cultures. All without knowing myself. Like I am not Native enough. I’m Native as Obama is black. It's different though. For Natives, I know. I know how to be. Every possible way I think that it might look for me to say I’m native seems wrong” (Orange 71-72 Edwin black).

There There by Tommy Orange is a story following twelve characters from native communities. All twelve are on their way to Big Oakland Powwow to tell the dangers of being an Urban Native American. The quote above is told from the perspective of Edwin black (one of the twelve characters in the story) as he tries to learn more about his native American father and his Native American heritage.

# data[].attributes.body
Persimmon by Li-Young Lee is a poem that outlines how the Chinese immigrant who moved to America trying to adjust to their new life in America. The speaker jumps from remembering the painful memories from school to the nostalgic memories the persimmon fruit gives him.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
In sixth grade Mrs. Walker

slapped the back of my head

and made me stand in the corner

for not knowing the difference

between persimmon and precision.

persimmons. This is precision.

Ripe ones are soft and brown-spotted.

Sniff the bottoms. The sweet one

will be fragrant. How to eat:

put the knife away, lay down newspaper.

Peel the skin tenderly, not to tear the meat.

all of it, to the heart.

Donna undresses, her stomach is white.

In the yard, dewy and shivering

with crickets, we lie naked,

I teach her Chinese.

Crickets: chiu chiu. Dew: I've forgotten.

Ni, wo: you and me.

she is beautiful as the moon.

that got me into trouble were

Fight was what I did when I was frightened,

Fright was what I felt when I was fighting.

Wrens are small, plain birds,

yarn is what one knits with.

Wrens are soft as yarn.

My mother made birds out of yarn.

I loved to watch her tie the stuff;

a bird, a rabbit, a wee man.

Mrs. Walker brought a persimmon to class

it wasn't ripe or sweet, I didn't eat

but watched the other faces.

My mother said every persimmon has a sun

inside, something golden, glowing,

warm as my face.

Once, in the cellar, I found two wrapped in newspaper,

forgotten and not yet ripe.

I took them and set both on my bedroom windowsill,

where each morning a cardinal

sang, The sun, the sun.

my father sat up all one night

waiting for a song, a ghost.

I gave him the persimmons,

swelled, heavy as sadness,

and sweet as love.

This year, in the muddy lighting

of my parents' cellar, I rummage, looking

for something I lost.

My father sits on the tired, wooden stairs,

black cane between his knees,

hand over hand, gripping the handle.

He's so happy that I've come home.

I ask how his eyes are, a stupid question.

All gone, he answers.

Under some blankets, I find a box.

Inside the box I find three scrolls.

I sit beside him and untie

three paintings by my father:

Hibiscus leaf and a white flower.

Two persimmons, so full they want to drop from the cloth.

He raises both hands to touch the cloth,

asks, Which is this?

This is persimmons, Father.

Oh, the feel of the wolftail on the silk,

precision in the wrist.

I painted them hundreds of times

eyes closed. These I painted blind.

Some things never leave a person:

scent of the hair of one you love,

the texture of persimmons,

in your palm, the ripe weight.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Persimmons by Li-Young Lee | Poetry Foundation

# data[].attributes.body
This poem is about how a young adult from India goes to the United States to seek a higher education. Prior to going to the United States the speaker and their father had a strong bond. It was only after the speaker got back and tried to talk to his dad after being away from home their father saw them as a totally different person.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
I am trying to imagine my new life when I am returned to the place of my parents’ birth.

# data[].attributes.body
How do you think cultural detachment is represented in the poems and book? Are there any similarities or differences between the 3 sources?