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In this poem, langston hughes, a twenty-two-year-old african american student, reflects on the complexity of defining one's identity and sense of belonging. He explores the intersection of his personal experiences as a black man in harlem and his role as a student in a predominantly white college. The poem raises questions about the nature of truth, identity, and the shared human experience.
Typology: Exams
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The instructor said, Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you-- 5 Then, it will be true. I wonder if it's that simple? I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem. I went to school there, then Durham, then here to this college on the hill above Harlem. 10 I am the only colored student in my class. The steps from the hill lead down into Harlem, through a park, then I cross St. Nicholas, Eighth Avenue, Seventh, and I come to the Y, the Harlem Branch Y, where I take the elevator 15 up to my room, sit down, and write this page: It's not easy to know what is true for you or me at twenty-two, my age. But I guess I'm what I feel and see and hear, Harlem, I hear you: hear you, hear me--we two--you, me, talk on this page. 20 (I hear New York, too.) Me--who? Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink, and be in love. I like to work, read, learn, and understand life. I like a pipe for a Christmas present, or records--Bessie, bop, or Bach. 25 I guess being colored doesn't make me not like the same things other folks like who are other races. So will my page be colored that I write? Being me, it will not be white. But it will be 30 a part of you, instructor.
You are white-- yet a part of me, as I am a part of you. That's American. Sometimes perhaps you don't want to be a part of me. 35 Nor do I often want to be a part of you. But we are, that's true! As I learn from you, I guess you learn from me-- although you're older--and white-- 40 and somewhat more free. This is my page for English B.