When i was a little girl,
i thought everyone was italian,
and that was good. we visted
our aunts and uncles,
and they visted us.
the italian language smooth
and sweet in my mouth.

in kindergarten, english words fell on me,
thick and sharp as hail. i grew silent,
the italian word balanced on the edge
of my tongue and the english word, lost
during the first moment
of every question.

source: gillan, maria mazziotti. "growing up italian." poetrymagazine. com. poetry magazine, n. d. web. 30 mar. 2011.

what is the tone of this poem? what does the tone reveal about the speaker of the poem and the conflict she faces? based on this excerpt, what can you predict about the theme of the poem?