There is no tragedy without loss,
or at the very least,
a lack of something.
I am consumed by my family’s loss of heritage,
of religion,
of mother tongue-
there should have been no loss,
there should be no aching lack!
No man nor woman should fearfully shed anything for fear of retribution.
My ancestors should never have felt the need to suppress themselves,
fearing persecution in the land they fled to,
seeking freedom.
My great-grandfather should not have been ashamed to speak with an accent.
He should never have felt as if he was doing his children a favor,
refusing to teach them Russian.
As a result of unfounded fear,
I am empty,
void of what should have been mine,
void of what should have been passed to me,
void of true connection with those who fled and those who died!
What was for so long a thing of pride,
turned to a source of shame,
soured like milk left in the sun
by those who allowed paranoia to consume them.
Worst of all, my familial tragedy is common.
The Red Scare was only a single instance
of a single boogeyman,
who we are always reinventing.
I am not alone- I am one of many,
stripped of a heritage
I would have proudly embraced!
For those who could have passed it to me did not, out of unjust fear.
I bear witness to the slow death of their memory.
I may tell my children their story,
but I will never know how to tell it in the way it was written:
In Russian, a language I was never taught to speak.
I cling to what is left,
to the few fragmented pieces of my heritage,
preserved by diligent grandmothers and great-aunts.
Potitsa dough rolled thin across a table,
brushed with butter,
sprinkled with cinnamon sugar.
Small jars upon which pictures of forests and pretty girls are carefully painted.
Inside, written prayers are kept safe.
And pictures,
and stories,
of endless sacrifice.
Savannah Sisk is a sixteen-year-old woman who lives in the American South, where she spends the majority of her time daydreaming about ways to move to New Zealand. She is extremely passionate about writing, having loved to write ever since she learned to hold a pen. Most recently, her writing and poetry have been published in the Alcott Youth Magazine, Quail Bell Magazine, and Across the Margin Literary Magazine. Her work is forthcoming in the Academy of the Heart and Mind Literary Magazine and Anti-Heroin Chic Literary Journal.