I Am a “Good Person”

A Poem by Ada Hu

I am a good person. 

I open my mouth out of generosity,

and vocalise a triad of syllables 

to the nerdy Asians in my class,

because they are too quiet,

and way too lonely.

I am an activist.

I repost lengthy hashtags

regarding social justice issues,

and profess to stand in solidarity

when I see another black man fall

under the hands of police brutality.

But even with those top grades I get,

no formula could ever help me work out

who Martin Luther King was,

or what the Taliban is doing 

in Afghanistan. 

I am a campaigner;

one who dedicates immense

time and energy 

towards ending discrimination. 

After reposting two black squares

for 'Black Lives Matter',

my fingers are sore,

and my vision,

albeit quick to spot injustice,

is blurred from the blue light 

emitting from my phone screen.

But I always remain humble,

and continue my mission

of eradicating all forms of prejudice

one could ever enumerate. 

I am an ally.

I speak fluent English,

but the word, 'privilege',

still doesn’t have a definition 

in my dictionary.

I dislike the tone of my BIPOC peers,

so I do them a helpful favour,

and speak about their issues for them, instead.

But, most importantly,

I am a performer. 

My life is a masquerade, 

and I put on my mask every day - 

I've even mastered a flawless façade.

I pretend to care about these 'silly' movements,

which I hijack,

and use for validation. 

Being called a good person,

an activist,

a campaigner,

and an educated ally

proliferates my serotonin.

And so,

I perform even more.

I am a performative activist.