For the Good of Mankind: The Nuclear Legacy Explored in a "History Project"
by Morgan Dethlefsen
May 2022
When I was 13, I wrote a research paper for my World History class. The topic I was assigned was the United States’ nuclear testing in the Marshall Islands. It is incredibly difficult to come out of researching this topic without being filled with rage. Kathy Jetnil-Kijiner’s poem “History Project” encapsulates this perfectly, and her diction and tone reflect the experiences and feelings of the Marshallese affected by the nuclear legacy, as well as those affected by United States injustices across the globe.
At 15, Jetnil-Kijiner was in a similar situation to me; critically, however, she both chose to explore the topic on her own and was relatively well-versed in the subject beforehand. In her own words, “time to learn my own history.” Being Marshallese and a victim of the nuclear legacy, Jetnil-Kijiner will know more than I ever will about said legacy. Even though I considered myself to be read in the subject, I still learned a lot from this poem.
Interestingly, Jetnil-Kijiner reassures the reader that she’s “not angry at all,” that she “knew all of this already.” More than anyone, however, she is reassuring herself to uphold a facade of neutrality. There is a common thread among portions of the American populace that marginalized and oppressed groups shouldn’t speak on their pain. “It happened so long ago, get over it.” Whether it be African Americans and slavery, Native Americans and colonial horrors, or Marshallese and the nuclear legacy, it doesn’t matter: one mustn’t speak ill of the self-declared beacon of freedom, opportunity, and equality, and Jetnil-Kijiner’s reassurances here are more those of someone catching themselves.
This facade soon begins to slip. Jetnil-Kijiner’s diction gives away her true feelings as she describes the “bloated grins” of US military personnel “sucking beers and tossing beach balls” and the eternally-infamous “fairy tale” told to King Juda and the Bikinians. Jetnil-Kijiner’s anger eventually boils over following a discovery about Americans’ protests to “animal abuse” in the nuclear tests, and the poem climaxes with the powerful following section:
I want radioactive energy megatons of tnt a fancy degree
anything and everything I could ever need to send ripples
of death
through a people
who puts goats
before human beings
so their skin
can shrivel
beneath the glare of hospital room lights
three generations later
as they watch their grandfather their aunty their cousin’s life drip
across that same black screen
knots of knuckles tied to steel beds
cold and absent of any breath
In this passage, Jetnil-Kijiner says what has been left unsaid; what those who suffer from the devastating effects of United States weapons feel, but are not allowed to say; the feelings of the Bikinians, Rongelapese, Enewetakans nearing 70 years after Castle Bravo; the feelings of Vietnamese still suffering the effects of Agent Orange. In this, Jetnil-Kijiner becomes a mouthpiece for rightfully held anti-American sentiments as a result of Cold War weapons testing.
Many of Jetnil-Kijiner’s poems are organized into several parts. “History Project” could easily be one of these poems: each section starts with “At 15 I…,” and marks a distinct shift in tone. However—much like the trauma, illness, and injustice passed on from generation to generation—the poem is continuous. Just as the US was consciously negligent in their responsibilities to both the islands and the people of the Marshall Islands, so, too, were the judges in their understanding of Jetnil-Kijiner’s clear, biting sarcasm in spray painting “FOR THE GOOD OF MANKIND” as the header of her poster. Just like her ancestors—just as everyone who has suffered from the nuclear legacy has: she lost.
“History Project” is an eye-opening look into the feelings, frustrations, and fears of the Marshallese affected by the nuclear legacy. It provides valuable knowledge for Americans who have never learned this, but also for those who have. Most importantly, it serves as a mouthpiece for those who were (and still are) affected by the United States’ legacy of unjust destruction: from Da Nang to Delap, Red Hill to Rongerik, people can find representation and expression in Kathy Jetnil-Kijiner’s poetry.