Bad Women by Janice Miriktani

In an attempt to get myself writing again I am reading poetry. My attention was caught when I searched my campus library for keywords "woman," "Japanese American," and "poetry" and only one book returned with the results - Love Works by Janice Mirikitani. It's very good and I would recommend it to anyone interested in Asian American poetry or just reading poetry for pleasure.

This poem stood out as one of my favorites in the collection.

Bad Women
by Janice Mirikitani

From San Francisco Women's Summit Speech

delivered on April 25, 2000

Women must change the definition we've been taught about ourselves, and embrace our resilience that brought us through adversity. We reject the word "bad" in its traditional meaning, referring to women who should be silence with shame. Instead, we are women who, in recovery, are so good we "be BAD."

Bad women
          know how to cook
          create a miracle in a pot
          make something out of chicken feet, pigs feet, cornmeal,
          hogmaw, fisheads, fatback, ribs, roots, soy or red beans
Bad women overcome homelessness, violence, addiction and self hate.
Bad women march for equality
          education, jobs, childcare, universal health care,
          affirmative action and choice.
Bad women flaunt themselves
          plump as mangos, skinny as tallow
          tall, short
          dark as plums and coffee
          light as cream and butter
          gold as sun on lemons, red as cinnamon
          brown as kola.
Bad women don’t get old, they get full
          full flavored like aged wine
          full as harvest’s vine
          seasoned.
Bad women celebrate themselves,
          fingerpopping, hipshaking, big laughed, wisemouthed
          hefty thighed, smart thinking women
          hatwearing, soft syllabled, eyelash fluttering
          tangerine lipstick queens,
          small and big breasted
          fat kneed, skinny ankled women
          who dance without warning
          wrap their men or their women around their waist
           and dance to the edge of dawn.
Bad women know how to stir
          their tears in pots of compassion
          add some hot sauce, wasabe, five spices, jalapenos
          the salt of memory
          stoke the fire of history
          simmer in resilience
          make it taste like home.

Bad women can burn.