With Silence My Teacher

Cold in my bed,
I lay awake at night.
I never heard her say,
“I love you.”

After ten winters
In America, my thoughts
Still point me back to
My native home.

I crossed the ocean
When I was twelve, but
I still wonder
What she looked like.

Half asleep I remember –
She had been there
The first four months
Of my life.

As a child wishing
For mommy –
My eyes fill
With water.

A lone tear
Rolls from my eye.
Onto my pillow now
A torrent begins.

For a second
I worry.
What if –
The neighbors hear?

Shut from tears,
My eyes swell.
My voice is hoarse
From crying.

I tell myself –
Wake up.
It is reality.
Silence.

In the morning,
My eyes are swollen.
Amidst my cries,
I must have slept.

Only twelve years old
When her mother died.
Left to care for me –
My sister.

Shed of everything,
No school, no friends –
No childhood.
My sister sacrificed.

It was no luxury
To take care of
And to feed me.
The sorrow of no childhood.

With no money,
She begs for food.
Sharing at night,
Flour with water and sugar.

Far and distant
My brothers on their own –
Until two years old I am
Greeted by an alcoholic father.

In one room.
Boys sleep with tearful eyes.
Girls in another.
The orphanage.

One child at a time
Come and play games.
I remember her.
A girl.

One day they came –
She held me very tight
And cried.
I just stared at her.

Hungry, I picked my way
Into the bathroom.
I ate the toothpaste.
The nuns spanked me.

Sometimes I am greeted
By my sister.
Floating like a dream –
She would cry.

I am already
Six years old.
Bidding farewell –
My brother comes to get me.

Five sons,
And five devils –
Dad found a woman,
And took me to live with him.

No electricity.
Makes me cook
And get firewood –
She’s an alcoholic also.

Dad comes home
late at night.
I pretend to sleep while
They fight.

Like a winter wind,
She gets screams at him.
When he is gone to work –
She will beat me.

If I tell my dad
She will come again
And hit me;
Because I told my dad.

Silence.
I don’t tell anymore.
When nobody’s home
The devil is.

Tears rush down my face
As my eyes are opened.
Cold and dark I wonder, why
The night looks so different.

One day after another.
In tumbling succession they fight.
Going to the neighbors house,
I try to hide.

Round and round
My world flashes.
The lady comes.
She pulls me by the hair.

Making dreams dance alive –
My brother comes and
Gives me a doll.
It is my birthday.

All my livelong days –
It is my first doll.
Angry, the lady
Throws it in the fire.

Her son and I go
to the same school.
All kinds of food her son has.
My stomach is empty.

The devil’s restless and
I can’t stand the beatings,
Inviting a tempest,
I live in a shed for a week.

My uncle,
Poised to save me –
Hits me for not obeying
My father.

Because I was too scared.
He lets me stay there –
For a few months.
He wants to send me home.

When ever I
felt the cold spray of life,
I talk to my mother.
Silence.

Should I die
I will go to my mother,
so I put a knife to my stomach.
It hurts too much.

To escape the future
By killing myself
I would have…
Fallen upon the knife.

In the darkness,
I write to my sister.
In one room with husband, son, me
We live.

This heaven,
Hardly more than a year.
I would gladly stay more
But for they are too poor.

A one room apartment
Is where my brother lives.
Under the same roof
We all sleep in the same room.

Even love cannot save me
from poverty.
Bravery, but no job.
I go back to my sister’s.

Out of the utter silence,
A rain storm penetrates
My world.
Dad comes to get me.

From this day forth,
The rain washes away
My heaven.
The lady beats me again.

I hoped to have
Been able to avoid it,
But the son devil is doing all
Kinds of bad things to me.

My dad is drunk –
And a fight ensues.
Like leaves, our lives
Are scattered in the street.

Dad goes back to her.
I go back to my
Brothers house again.
The same problems.

On a cool day in fifth grade
I met a lady
From the orphanage.
She knows.

She asked me to
Live at her house.
A passing year –
I live there.

She is kind, but
Heartlessly indifferent
To a child's fears is
Her 24 year old son.

Behind the door
Of her absence,
He would do
The same thing to me.

In mid-winter I
I won’t have any place to live.
If I tell –
He says.

Whenever she goes somewhere
I ask her
To take me with her.
She won’t.

Close to twelve years
Old I will be.
I want to go to junior high,
But I have no money.

I deliver newspapers
To earn money.
A little at a time,
Hardly enough.

My sister wants to
Take care of me.
I hear about adoption.
America.

My sister said just wait
For a few years.
I am in everyone’s way.
But I want to survive.

Under an empty wallet,
My brother agrees –
When I come to America,
I don’t know any English.

Like an ethereal dream,
My American family.
The smell rises to my nose.
So much food.

Because I think I must
Worry about tomorrow,
I hide food –
Under my bed.

Many wonderful things are
Brought to mind.
I have my first birthday.
A birthday cake.

Christmas.
I am dreaming.
They explained about
Getting presents, but…

Coat and dolls
And clothes and perfume.
I fear that if I touch –
They will disappear.

I can’t believe I have more
Than one set of clothes.
Houses in America –
Are so huge.

I can’t go home.
After school –
Because I worry something bad
Will happen.

I can’t go home.
I’m so nervous.
My heart pounds.
But, nothing bad happens.

My new parents let me
Keep in touch with my family.
My brothers and sister
Always feel guilty.

November 1, 1996.
My Korean father dies.
I stand in my room.
Silence.

Ten years since I left –
I go back to Korea.
I am scared that America
Was a dream.

Maybe things
Didn’t change.
Maybe I’ll wake up.
Don’t wake up.

Through having baby
And looking at her
I am healed.
I hope that her life –

Will be better than mine.
Keep going if you can hear,
My friend –
Silence is the teacher –

A warm summer wind.
I shed my tears
On Jesus’ sleeve
This beautiful day of Joy.

Warm in her bed,
If my baby lays awake at night,
She will hear me say,
“I love you.”

About the Poetic Style

With Silence My Teacher is based on the real life experiences of SoonHee Oh, a Korean adoptee.  As Ms. Oh reflected on her life experiences with the author as he prepared to write this work, her memories often surfaced in vivid "flashes."  This inspired the author to choose a poetic style influenced richly by Haiku, wherein as much as possible is intentionally removed and unsaid and it is intended that the reader experience, not just read the poem.  All but the necessary elements have been removed and each stanza stands alone like sketches or fragments of Ms. Oh's life frozen in time, leaving the reader to imagine and experience the details in extremely acute powerful flashes - just as Ms. Oh remembered them.

© 2007 Jason Haddock, All Rights Reserved.