With thanks to Netgalley and Little A

I wore my Blackest Hair is a collection of poetry that deals with identity, childhood and racism. A good collection of poetry,

I Wore My Blackest Hair tackles subjects from adolescence to feminism, racism, relationships, and xenophobia.
I found the poems on racism and xenophobia to be the most impactful - Duan's pen paints an intricate and elaborate picture of the struggle of growing up within a culture and speaking a language at home that's different to the culture and language past your doorstep. She beautifully captures the feelings of "otherness" that non-white people often feel in white countries, as well as the resilience and defiance in the face of ignorant or outright racist behaviour. As well as this, Duan weaves this tapestry with the effects of racism outside of instances where it's overt - the struggle of speaking two languages and not feeling connected to them, what it means to be an American, the resentment towards parents for making you "different", the working in underpaid jobs because of the racial glass ceiling.
Overall, I enjoyed this collection. Some poems I found a little hard to follow, but Duan's voice shone through when talking about race and womanhood.
3.5 stars out of 5.

Reading this book was a struggle let alone finishing it. But I thought there were some poems that I like (very very few) so I thought might as well finish it. Actually scratch that, there were some stanzas/lines that I like and majority was a no-no but still tried to finish it. I just couldn't get the grasp on what the poems are about, it left me lost and confused.
And I don't like the writing style either.

An interesting collection of poetry focusing on the second-generation immigrant experience and reconciling American and Chinese culture. Duan rakes up powerful emotions of isolation and belonging, both with regards to her race and her sex and brings to light the prejudice caused by both. There are some sucker-punch verses that leap right off the page:

My mother
Does not own a
Laundromat or
A take-out restaurant;
She waters orchids
And doesn’t look
Your president
In the eye

Your white classmate sees you. Does not.
White men claim you. Do not.
You are small, fierce and evil: with
Two palms and a chest. There are
boxes made for you to check.
Chinese /
American. Chinese / American.
Your mom calls. She tells you to
Stop
Writing about race. You could get
shot, she says


Many were too dilatory for me. While I could feel the emotion I couldn’t really connect to the words. For me, this style of poetry is too loose and unformed, the structure appearing random rather than considered and the metaphors, while striking, are too often over-wrought and hollow at the centre.

At its best, Duan's collection of poetry is visceral and heavy without being overdone, but I found it a bit repetitive when I was least engaged. The highs for me were the poems in which she talks about her relationship to her father, and her exploration of identity and immigration. I WASN'T JOKING was far and away my favorite piece, especially the end:

"when I bit my bottom
lip they said,
Oh,
and I turned
vicious: girl
stroking the earth
with two biceps. let
no one take my
tongue. I got a yodel
in me, won't back down
without parting my lips,
wet and eager
for the flight---"

As a young Chinese woman searching for her American identity, these poems are sensitive and far-reaching in their questions. Uplifting and open, they will touch your heart.

I don’t have much to say.
Good, pretty short collection of poetry.
I really liked the author’s style and her subjects too. She talks about family, about love, about racism, xenophobia and so much more.
The reason it doesn’t get 5 stars is because I had lots of trouble really getting into it.

my mother
is not from your
country, and I am
her daughter.
don't ask me
what it's like
being small
and Chinese.

I requested this from Netgalley on a whim as I am a big supporter of diversity in books - not in a tick-box sense where an author has included all the 'requisite' minorities, but in the sense of genuine, own-voice poetry and prose. I probably don't read as much poetry as I should as I often stick to old favourites rather than discovering new poets, but I always surprise myself with how much I enjoy reading poetry when I do.
This collection deals with Duan's childhood and coming-of-age, looking at the conflicts and mixture of her Chinese parents' upbringing and her own experience as someone who looks Chinese but is growing up in America. She aptly talks about the struggle of reconciling her two tongues and identities, how sometimes she is proud and at other times angry at the assumptions of others.

I said, MOM, MOM.
while she called me
Nǚ'ér,
nǚ'ér.
 
I was her American
daughter, my tongue
 
my hardest muscle
 
forced to swallow
a muddy alphabet.
 
  
What I liked: I believe that every opportunity for another diverse voice to be heard is to be celebrated. This is a challenging, important collection of poems showing an intensely personal view of life as the daughter of Chinese immigrants in America.

Even better if: The poems seemed to be a loose collection of poems written at different times, each reflecting another aspect of Duan's experiences. While this was interesting and powerful, it did sometimes mean that the narrative seemed a bit muddled. I would have also liked it if some Chinese characters has been included, not just pinyin, but I wonder if this could have been a choice from the author to show that distance from her parent's native tongue.

How you could use it in your classroom: I would recommend this for secondary rather than primary classrooms, particularly in many classrooms in the U.K. and America where there is a high chance that some, if not many, of the young people in your classroom will be able to relate to Carlina Duan's experiences as a child of parents who have immigrated and the mixture of cultures and languages which results.

Poems of Loneliness, Loss, and Defiance

I was her American
daughter, my tongue
my hardest muscle
forced to swallow
a muddy alphabet.
(“FRACTIONS, 1974”)

in Japan,
I meet a white-haired woman who
tells me her name means moon.
But I am crescent now, she says.
Soon I will disappear.
(“YEARS”)

when
a boy plumps his lip on your throat
and asks you to say something dirty
in CHINESE, you flip the sheets
and bite down, tasting trouble
and rage. in the kitchen, alone,
you devour a pickle. your white
classmate sees you. does not.
white men claim you. do not.
you are small, fierce, and evil: with
two palms and a chest. there are
boxes made for you to check.
Chinese /
American. Chinese / American.
your mom calls. she tells you to stop
writing about race. You could get
shot, she says. so you yank your hair
into a knot at the back of your neck.
so you cinch your belt tight
at the waist.
(“YOUR MOM TELLS YOU TO STOP WRITING ABOUT RACE”)

#####

— 3.5 stars —

Loneliness, grief, identity, alienation, illness, love, sex, rage, immigration, culture: the poems in I WORE MY BLACKETS HAIR glide and dance and sprint (and sometimes chomp their way) all over the map, but what they all (or mostly) share in common is an almost stubborn sense of defiance. These are stories about confronting mortality, navigating interpersonal strife, and pushing back against racist microaggressions while holding tight to one’s will to keep on keeping on.

I’ve only recently started to read more poetry; my reticence stems from the fact that I don’t always “get” the stuff. I think I got the gist of each piece, even if some (okay, a fair amount) of the imagery Duan employs went over my head. Even so, it was lovely just the same. And where it wasn’t, it’s because it wasn’t meant to be. Some of my favorites include “MORNING COMES, I AM SHINY WITH IT,” “CALUMET,” “FRACTIONS, 1974,” “MOON PULL,” “I WANT MY BOOKS BACK,” and (so much yes!) “YOUR MOM TELLS YOU TO STOP WRITING ABOUT RACE.”

Incidentally, I did notice a certain pattern of repetition over time that I found a little…distracting, I guess? Certain images pop up time and again – corn and boiled eggs; pink mouths and straining muscles; hair, both head and body – almost to the point of obsession.

If I enjoyed a poet’s work, I usually look them up on YouTube afterwards; hearing them perform the same pieces is often even more powerful and moving. I couldn’t find too many videos of Carlina Duan, but this reading of “Twelve Years Old” is both stirring – and representative of the poems in I WORE MY BLACKEST HAIR.

As a Chinese woman, I deeply related to Duan's pieces; I've shared similar, if not parallel, thoughts, questions, and even relationships with family members. Duan's voice clearly articulated command with intentional pause and reflection.

Not just for poetry fans, this is a lovely meditation on what it means to be an American woman of Chinese heritage. I dipped in and out of this, savoring the language and the images. We don't see many poetry collections these days- I wish there were more, especially those that hang together with such lovely writing. Thanks to Netgalley for the ARC.

Interesting collection of poems loosely relating to Chinese culture.

This is a brutally honest collection of poems that challenge the status-quo, push the boundaries of and question; race, color, genetics and acceptance.
For in I am the daughter of black tide/ an immigrant. Wwere my father lives, I protect. you get the feeling that she's not backing down, you can say and do all you want, but she made it here and she ain't going nowhere. I loved that.
I'll read this again and again, thanks to NetGalley.

3.5 Stars

Lovely collection of poetry that focuses on family, race, feminism, and individuality.

A few of my favorite lines:

"My mother is not from your country,
and I am not ashamed."
***
"I am lonely, in my lonely chest."
***
"To replace the languages our mom spoke, we
smoked up our Chinese with blond dolls,
our new knees. American girls."
***
"I was her American
daughter, my tongue
my hardest muscle
forced to swallow
a muddy alphabet."
***
"when a boy plumps his lips on your throat
and asks you to say something dirty
in CHINESE, you flip the sheets
and bite down, tasting trouble
and rage."
***
"there is an entire liquid nation in his face and no-
where to admit what I fear. some day the president
might hurt him, or lie, or
dismiss: my baba who
cleans my passport with alcohol wipes..."
***
"The truth is/ I want to leave but I don't want to leave & I know nothing/ & everything..."

Thank you to netgalley and to publisher Little A for giving me a copy of this poetry collection in exchange for an honest review.

I requested this ARC through netgalley because I'm interested in experiencing more in my reading life than my traditional American life has provided me. Carlina Duan's poems were a peek into what it means to be American with Chinese heritage and expectations and what it takes to establish independence from parents yet still maintain love.

Carlina Duan writes about fighting to be a fighter, and it was exhilarating to read about all the biting in her poetry. I loved her taking on the expectations of being a girl, a woman, and having to be nice when she is perfectly capable of biting her way through this world.

The poem that resonated the most with me was "I Want My Books Back" and I felt the fury of anger in every carefully chosen word. Thank you, Carlina Duan, for opening my eyes to the wonders of yanking, biting, torching, and packing cuss words in my sleeves. Read this poetry collection and let your inner strength come out and rumble!

This engrossing collection of poetry impresses with its insightful exploration of identity as a Chinese American woman, establishing Carlina Duan as a writing force to be reckoned with!