Wang Ping

cantfindit

Wang Ping is a Chinese American poet, educator, and multimedia artist born in Shanghai during the Cultural Revolution. Her family moved to the countryside when she was 14 to become farmers. Though she described those years of manual labor as back-breakingly difficult, she cherishes the experience for developing her deep respect for nature and water, a notion represented in her work through themes of industrialization and the environment. Mostly self-taught during this period, she would eventually earn a bachelor’s degree in English literature from Beijing University before leaving for the U.S. in 1985 to earn a master’s degree in English literature from Long Island University and a PhD in comparative literature from New York University. It wasn’t until her education in the U.S. that she would begin to write poetry, though she was always a fan. Poetry in Chinese culture, according to Wang, is so highly regarded and sacred that it almost seemed disrespectful to write it. It was fate, then, when she accidentally entered a creative writing class at LIU taught by Lewis Warsh, who would become a mentor and the first person to encourage her to write. Informed by her experiences as a Chinese woman in the U.S., her art frequently addresses the often opposing and even violent intersection that exists between cultures, but also emphasizes the beauty that can exist there. Her writing seeks to help influence other speakers of English as a second language to take advantage of purported shortcomings and to validate what has historically been seen as grammatically “incorrect” uses of English. Wang has been highly awarded for her dozen-plus collections of poetry, novels, and academic works of nonfiction. She is also the founder of the Kinship of Rivers project, whose goal is to use the sharing of art and literature to build a sense of community among people who live beside rivers.  She describes poets as courageous warriors of truth.

Things We Carry on the Sea

We carry tears in our eyes: good-bye father, good-bye mother

 

We carry soil in small bags: may home never fade in our hearts

 

We carry names, stories, memories of our villages, fields, boats

 

We carry scars from proxy wars of greed

 

We carry carnage of mining, droughts, floods, genocides

 

We carry dust of our families and neighbors incinerated in mushroom clouds

 

 

We carry our islands sinking under the sea

 

We carry our hands, feet, bones, hearts and best minds for a new life

 

We carry diplomas: medicine, engineer, nurse, education, math, poetry, even if they mean nothing to the other shore

 

We carry railroads, plantations, laundromats, bodegas, taco trucks, farms, factories, nursing homes, hospitals, schools, temples…built on our ancestors’ backs

 

We carry old homes along the spine, new dreams in our chests

 

We carry yesterday, today and tomorrow

 

We’re orphans of the wars forced upon us

 

We’re refugees of the sea rising from industrial wastes

 

And we carry our mother tongues

爱(ai),حب  (hubb), ליבע (libe), amor, love

平安 (ping’an), سلام ( salaam), shalom, paz, peace 

希望 (xi’wang), أمل (’amal), hofenung, esperanza, hope, hope, hope

 

As we drift…in our rubber boats…from shore…to shore…to shore…

Published:

2018

Length:

Regular

Literary Movements:

Contemporary

Anthology Years:

2023

Themes:

Bilingual

Identity

Memory & The Past

Poems of Place

Literary Devices:

Anaphora

a figure of speech in which words repeat at the beginning of successive clauses, phrases, or sentences

Extended Metaphor

a metaphor that extends through several lines or even an entire poem

Imagery

visually descriptive or figurative language, especially in a literary work

Sensory Detail

words used to invoke the five senses (vision, hearing, taste, touch, smell)