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Privilege and luxury

Very Proud Daughter of Immigrants

What’s the one luxury you can’t live without?

Privilege and Luxury


Luxury looks like the chauffeur
who drives me and my sister
to ballet classes
and my brother to karate

Privilege tastes like eating garlic cloves
in bed with my bunny
who wears a knitted hat
made by my Mami

Luxury smells like el amuerzo
of rice and over easy eggs
the maid serves us

Privilege sounds like a bomb
going off near our house
one of its residents
loses his hearing because of it

Luxury feels like my mami understanding
terrorism is at her front door
and applying for U.S sponsorship
through a relative

Privilege is having parents
who crossed the border
for us and with us
out of love and for our safety

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poetry: Kam Hwy

I wrote this poem in April of 2024.

me at 12 when I lived in the duplex

ramen 3 times a day in the dingy 2 bedroom duplex
and it was an upgrade from the miniature apartment
in mid city L.A
the one where there was a bullet hole in my window
so what if the stripper and the landlord’s son
got in screaming matches
so what if the marine next to us beat his wife
weekly for her infidelity
despite the poverty experienced, despite the trashy
and toxic domestic energy
that dingy duplex was freedom to me and my family
it was hope and salvation from the nightmare
of indentured servitude L.A had been

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poetry: ruffles and pastels

I wrote this poem in April of 2024.

always such a ham

mami dressed me up in ruffles and pastels whenever she could
I’d swirled and twirled in my dress until I got dizzy
loved when everyone told me, “ay que bonita te miras”
and I awkwardly bowed, smiled, and hid
sashayed to every single one of my relatives
and did the same thing
it’s one of the few times I remembered being vain as a child
one of the few times I didn’t feel weird and like an outcast
external validation learned at the tender age of 8

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poetry: tribute

I wrote this poem in March of 2024.

I do this for them

I pay tribute to the women who came before me
women who sacrificed so my parents could exist
my mami who had to leave behind her culture,
traditions, and language to give me a better life
to make sure I grow up safe and well educated
and taught me what strength and resilience means
as she worked long days to make ends meet
as she showed initiative to move our family forward
and with her example I was able to follow it
except I change it up some
to live a life full of love, community and creativity

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poetry: Children pay attention

I wrote this poem in June of 2023.

me and my boys-one of the major reasons I’m determined to be the strongest and most empowered woman in their lives

Our children pay attention to the stories we tell ourselves
I noticed when my son’s heart broke for the first time
and it awakened a deep catharsis within me
I would no longer hold onto my victim story
the one where I tell myself,
“I’m worthless, I’m not good enough, I’m unlovable”
Instead I’ll walk with confidence and all of the self love
I can muster up for myself
maybe just maybe if I can model this type of healthy behavior
the cycle of generational self loathing and self destruction
will finally be broken
And my children has a chance of living a life
filled with more joy and contentment
than mental illness

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poetry: at least I didn’t rage quit today

I wrote this poem in May of 2023.

crazy but still cute

Can I blame the morning rain for making me crazy yesterday
it’s like I lost all of my emotional regulation skills
and I had to constantly struggle to reign my anger in
To not key my annoying coworker’s car
To not drive off somewhere and never come back
but HEY I still managed to get through the day
and not rage quit