To Michael Derrick Hudson aka Yi-Fen Chou:
YOU ARE A WHITE MALE! (I assume you know that already.)
And there's something you white males have. It's called white male privilege. (Surprise!)
You have lived your whole life in America as part of the most privileged class of society. That means you are on the top of the food chain. (Figuratively, I hope. You'd be a real bastard if you're actually eating people.)
You can never understand what it's like to live under the oppression of white privilege. NEVER!
Do you know why women and minorities use pseudonyms?
It's because, for our entire lives, we're faced with the invisible, intangible burden of discrimination. Of racism and sexism, implicit and explicit. Of being treated less than we're worth (and being told we're worth less than you). Pseudonyms are used as a way to alleviate that burden.
And, it's a fucking heavy BURDEN. You don't know how much it's a part of our lives. NO, shut up. You DON'T! (Now, I'm talking to an imaginary white guy...)
You don't know what living with the burden of white male privilege feels like.
You don't have to announce to the world that you're American every chance you get or make an effort to sound really "American" so people don't assume you're foreign. (It's especially infuriating if someone mentions how good your English is.)
You aren't constantly being asked "where are you from? No, where are you really from?"
You don't have to make an enquiry for an apartment online with an alias because you know that people prefer English speakers in general and you didn't want to be discriminated against because of your Asian last name.
You weren't called Yao Ming when you were playing basketball on the streets.
When you were a kid, you didn't have to deal with kids making fun of the food that you brought to school for lunch. (I pity you. You had boring ass PB&Js and grilled cheeses... Although, a grilled cheese sandwich would hit the spot right now.)
Your poem was rejected 40 times. Big fucking deal.
That was probably a fraction of the number of Asian Americans who were rejected this past month the moment they walked into a Hollywood audition room just because they aren't white.
That's how many times each year I have pricks shout ni hao or ding dong ching chong at me when I walk past them on the streets.
Your poem wasn't accepted?
BOO. HOO. Want me to change your nappy? (No, that's disgusting. Do it yourself.)
Guess what? There were probably a million other poems submitted to those literary journals that were better than yours. Many of those poems were probably written by white men. So, try to make the claim that you were discriminated against as a "old white male." (Nope, you can't.) There's no justification for what you did.
To change your name to a Chinese sounding one when real Chinese people are anglicising theirs to fit in, to try to survive in a racist environment, to not have people who look like you butcher it, shows you're completely unaware of the benefits you enjoy in society.
I don't know who you are, Michael. You might be a good guy. You might be an upstanding citizen. But you made a mistake. I abhor what you did. It was insensitive. And, I hope your writing career goes to shit.
If you were in any way sorry for what you did, you'd have your poem taken out of the anthology. You don't deserve to be featured in there.
But, there's nothing much I can do about it except shout my frustrations into the abyss.
So, I hope this incident haunts you forever.
P.S. On the bright side... Asian Hulk!