#immigrantchild

[sircharlesthepoet]

Dream of Generations

*To Jackie, Maria, and every children of immigrants birthed with a Purpose* how do I live like my life is my own?I must care for the generations before me unbothered and detached is a luxurythe few of us feel too responsible to cherish I don’t envy you, maybe a littlebut how could I ever walk away? I fail if the duties that my ancestorspassed to me linger without manifestation. after…

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[vidainamerica-blog]

America is hard, pt.1

boom, you’re 18 and suddenly you are expected to know what to do with your life. like damn, I was legit just kicking it back with friends, enjoying my life driving through town and eating taco bell. Now you are telling me that I have a couple months to decide what college I should go, what I should major in and if my parents have the money to send me off to college? what is this... 

so bullshit. coming from parents who migrated here their #1 focus was for a better life for their kids and yes, education is one of them. but they don’t know what the fuck FAFSA is... they don’t know that high schools are pressuring you to apply for colleges, they don’t know much... and if they don’t know... how do you?! here’s where shit goes bad. 

i’m 18 and all I want to do is paint.. draw..art. I see classmates deciding what to do, where to go.. of course because of their parents. Their parents been to college and know the process. I was just happy that I would be the first generation to graduate high school.. I knew I wanted to still go to school, but I didn’t know for what. Time was getting closer, I didn’t stress to take those stupid tests to get into a University because I knew I would go to a community college. But what I really wanted to do required me to go to a University later on.

Graduation hits, we say goodbye to the people we knew so many years.. bye everyone, hope to see you again! Here we go.. time to prepare for adulthood.

[archietype-ink]

i support DREAMers...my parents are not criminals for wanting a better future for their kids. my ancestors are my strength... #DefendDACA #immigrantchild #dreamer #migrantworker #migrationisbeautiful🦋 #reclaimingmypower #standagainstHate #ihaveadream #OUTLAWZ (at Oakland, California)

[madhubalachalidisco-blog]

Indian Parents

Now that I've moved out, and live my own life, I have the luxury of visiting my family and staying at home during school breaks. When the school year is in full-swing, I don't have time for self-care (which, ironically, is the thing that they emphasize the most in my grad program), but when I come home, I almost expect royal treatment automatically. I, am, afterall, my parents' darling child who's away studying, and making the whole family proud. Right? Right...? Wrong. I think the distance has really been helping the relationship I have with my parents, which evidently, has been extremely rocky from the beginning. Being home for too long just brings back all those terrible memories of me trying to deal with the nonsense that is Indian parenting, while trying to adjust to life in America. It's just so toxic and gross. Having very typical immigrant parents is something I'm sure a lot of other Indian - Americans like myself empathize with, but that does not mean we have to put up with the crap that they perpetuate. From laughing too loud in their presence, to expressing my opinions on topics that I feel strongly about, are only the mere tidbits of the endless list of things that irk my parents. There is no doubt that our parents worked incredibly hard to give us the life that we now have the privilege to enjoy, but that does not mean that we are not entitled to sanity and a voice. Shit, I feel like I've regressed 20 years every time my mom yells at me to be respectful to my family members who feel like they can spew utter garbage and still feel like they deserve respect. I feel like crap when my mom yells at me to stop talking on the phone with my best friend whom I have known for 10 years. It's like I'm being treated like a child all over again. My point is, moving away was the best and worst thing I ever did. Do I miss home? Hell yeah I do. Am I glad I don't permanently live here anymore? More so than anything else. This post is for people who have ever felt psychologically trapped and forced to feel guilty for every little thing you do or say, because no matter how hard-working, and deeply rooted in our culture our parents are, nobody deserves to receive messages that they are not good enough. That is the worst thing a child can hear coming out of their parents' mouths. In short, Indian parents, y'all are some gritty folks, but please for fucks sake, stop expecting your grown-up sons and daughters to live the same restrictive lifestyle that you might have lived.

[themigrantidentity]

Zehra discusses the language barrier that she initially faced transitioning into English from the Urdu she spoke in Pakistan. In order to avoid being ostracized, she willingly assimilated into western cultural norms. She highlights that her family's story is not inherently unique, as every family's history is rife with stories of migration. 

[themigrantidentity]

Nadine Williams highlights the importance of being in touch with one's history and ancestry. In contrast to other poems on this topic, she focuses on the beauty of the past rather than the hardships that scar it.