Immigrants come to the United States every day to seek new opportunities and start a new life. They hope to find new friends and work. There are two types of immigrants: documented and undocumented. If you are documented that means you are eligible and meet the requirements to be an American Citizen. Unfortunately, many people don’t meet the requirements so they are often undocumented. Many people are mad and question why they can't just wait to meet the requirements. They don't know that in some countries there are wars and poor conditions to live in. It is very hard to get a job in many countries. Also getting a green card is difficult. If you have a wife or a husband and they are an American Citizen it usually takes about a year or two. But that is only if you have a wife or husband. If you have a brother or sister it can take based on my family's experience seven years. Adding on if you don’t have any family members in the United States that are documented or a citizen the other way is by work but many people are looking for work and don’t have money. Many people don’t have five or seven years to spare. They need to feed their families and produce money. That's why undocumented people enter. It is very sad and often not seen by the public. Anonymous '22 (BHSEC Queens)
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It is absurd that people have no means of escaping a country that threatens people with gangs and violence It is absurd that a child who crossed the border before he knew his own name is not considered 'an American” It is absurd that a country that a country can be so vicious to people carrying so much sorrow It is absurd that people live their lives in constant fear of being taken back to a country they have never known It is absurd that the people who are supposed to uphold moral law turn a blind eye to suffering How are we supposed to believe in a country that allows for suffering to continue 'The American Dream” falls short at saving those who need it most Those who fear for their lives Those who fear for their children Those who fear for their future Those who Dream for a better life Anonymous '22 (BHSEC Queens)My great grandfather, Herman Liverant, came to the United States as a refugee fleeing from World War II. He entered this country speaking seven languages fluently, not including english. When arriving to New York, he first enrolled in college in 1941 and devoted himself to his education and perfecting english. After graduating from the City College of New York three years later, he decided to show his appreciation to America by immediately going to the U.S Army. His intentions were to be a translator, as he was extremely qualified, however, he was placed as a chef. Although he wasn’t that pleased with this placement, he accepted it for he was serving the country that granted him freedom and opportunities. The reason he was not given the deserved job of a translator was that he was untrusted, solely because he was an immigrant. My Great Grandpa LouLou had done everything he could to give back to America what it gave to him, and instead he was seen as an alien and a potential traitor. Immigrants should not be singled out because of their origins, but should be recognized because of their skills, intelligence, jobs, and rich culture that they contribute to our country. America is so special because it is a land of many peoples and many cultures, and it is immigrants we have to thank for that. Immigrants are extremely important to the United States. All Americans, excluding natives, derived from them. Immigrants are what make up this country and we should all be extremely grateful for immigrants. En conclusión, inmigrantes son muy importantes para Los Estados Unidos. Todos los Americanos excepto los indígenas, son de inmigrantes. Los inmigrantes son los que componen este país, y nosotros debemos estar agradecidos por ellos. Harper Sanders '22 (BHSEC Queens)Immigrants from all over the world have moved into the United States to start a new life and use the opportunity to make it better than what it was beforehand. My parents and siblings came to America because a lot of our family had already moved there and the cash flow was not good. By 2000, everyone on my father's side of the family was living in America. Last year, in 2018, my parents had finally obtained green cards and became legal. For over 18 years they had stayed in America with the chance of them being deported from the country. I had never thought of this before and it I am extremely grateful that nothing of the sort had happened to them. The thought of my parents being deported back to their home country is sickening and I don't know what I would do without them. Now that they are finally legal, I don't have to worry, but that doesn't change the fact that what could have happened to me, is happening to children of illegal immigrants and this is terrible. These illegal immigrants that the U.S. decide to deport, actually benefit the economy, even pay taxes, and would become legal, but the immigration system is broken and doesn't give them a good chance to. Anonymous '22 (BHSEC Queens)To whom it may concern, For the entirety of America’s history, we have prided ourselves upon being the home of diversity. We open our arms to immigrants from any part of the world because that mixture of rich culture is one of the main reasons America is thriving socially to this day. An interesting aspect of being American is having a connection elsewhere. I feel I have a unique perspective on this topic that I will discuss briefly. Having ancestors that have lived in this country for decades before me, I feel disconnected from my rich culture outside of this open yet confined space of 50 states. I am constantly asked the question 'where do you come from”. This question is soon followed by a 'how don’t you know” after I reassure them of my ignorance. Is it a problem that I am from New York, where I live, or New Jersey, where I was born, or however else I am feeling that day? To me, I do feel there is a problem. I can never just step back from where I am standing and just think to myself, I come from here. Although America isn’t the worst place to live at the moment, it sure isn’t the place that you want to be associated with. Another problem I have with these questions are how awkward the conversation gets after I tell the person for all I know, my family has lived here. Being African-American, the expression on their face tells everything that they are thinking about. Although I don’t like to think about it, my ancestors most likely had to do with slavery. This dark time in American history makes me embarrassed to take ownership of the only home I know. Experiencing these things, help me understand that before anything, you must have a connection to your roots. This can be family, friends or whoever but as long as they give you a sense of belonging . My purpose of giving this connection is to help you understand that although I may be considered an American, I can’t go out and celebrate my heritage. Although I don’t want you to feel bad for me, you should feel grateful for such a strong connection to a foreign land. Although there are many problems you may face here or where you come from, just know you will always have something to hold onto. Being an immigrant should make you proud. Without you, this country wouldn’t be half of what it is. Just remember no matter what happens raise your flag, sing your song, but just don’t forget where you come from. No matter how much your voice may be silenced here, you will always be able to express yourself somewhere, no matter where it is. Marcel Harris '22 (BHSEC Queens)The earliest memory I have of being a young immigrant was at the playground of my brother’s elementary school. Picking him up with my mom was one of the nicest things to do on a sunny spring afternoon. Especially getting to play with the other kids at the park near the school. I didn’t have many friends at the time being that we were new from India and my mom couldn’t speak English, making it harder for her to communicate with other moms. At this point, I had already spent 2 and a half years in India and we hadn't become accustomed to the culture in America. To put into simpler term, clothes weren’t a big deal in India. My mom dressed me in hand me downs from my brother all the time. One afternoon a few kids on the playground thought that it would be alright to mention the fact that I was wearing boyish clothes and my short hair. At that moment, as a three-year-old child, I thought that I would never be the same as my peers. My mom told me after this I wouldn’t go with her to pick my brother up unless my hair was open and I had a dress or skirt on. This fear carried on with me up until middle school. I would lie about the fact that I was an immigrant and I would often pretend that I didn’t know how to speak my native language. I would’ve done anything that made me feel fit in. I’ve come to realize that being an immigrant is a part of my identity and it isn’t anything that I should be ashamed about. Being an immigrant, especially being someone who is offered education and has the ability to speak about the unjust things done to undocumented and even documented immigrants is important to me. I don’t think my story is special, I think it’s something all immigrants can relate to and I hope that anyone who reads this can feel less alone.
Anonymous '22 (BHSEC Queens) Cuando mi abuela me habló en su lengua materna,
Recogí pequeñas partes de sus palabras. Tomé lo que estaba pensando Y creé una conexión de Ideas Frágiles En un lugar de Sin Sentido. Me gustaría hablar con ella con confianza en cada palabra, Pero no estoy en la condición correcta. Escucho el arte que habla y yo respondo con nada más que Sin palabras, Sin pensamientos, Sin ruido. Alguien me dijo, ¿Dónde está la verdadera Libertad? ¿Dónde está la Libertad? ¿Dónde? (Translation) When my grandmother spoke to me in her native tongue, I picked up wisps and pieces of her words. I pulled together fragments of her thoughts And crafted a bridge of Fragile Ideas Through a land of No Meaning At All. I wish I spoke to her with confidence in every word, But growing up on the other side of the bridge There is a level of Isolation in its condition. I hear the art she speaks and I respond with nothing more than Empty words, Empty thoughts, Empty noises. Someone tell me, Where is the real Freedom? Where is Freedom? Where? Brandon Lee '22 (BHSEC Queens) I came here when I was young
I bit my tongue, For I did not know English My learning was extinguished For I could not distinguish, I felt left out For I had many doubts, For I only had my aunt And the only thing I did was plant, I came here for a so called opportunity All I wanted to do was be a part of the community And know I’m separated from my family, I’m starting to lose my sanity All I can do is take bus and train I’m not a fan of this game For I am in reality…. Without my family Anonymous '22 (BHSEC Queens) Mi mamá dijo ayer, “Cuando me hablas inglés, siento que tu no eres mi hija. Debes hablar más en bengalí.” Cuando tenía cuatro años, hablaba bengalí todos los días, con fluidez, pero después de asistir a la escuela, hablaba más en inglés. Yo comencé a olvidar el idioma de mi gente, el idioma que mis parientes pelearon por tener. Es un poco triste que la única palabra que puedo escribir en mi propio idioma es mi nombre, pero puedo escribir un párrafo en una lengua que no es mía. Sí, yo estudio español en la escuela pero bengalí es donde mi corazón está. Mis padres inmigraron a EEUU por una buena vida para mi hermano y yo. Viví en Nueva York toda mi vida, pero no soy completamente americana. Mis padres son de Bangladés, pero no soy completamente bengalí. Estoy en el intermedio, y siempre voy a estar en el intermedio. No deseo borrar mi cultura. Loose Translation: Yesterday, my mom told me, "When you talk to me in English, I feel like you aren’t my daughter. You should speak Bengali more often.” When I was 4 years old, I used to speak Bengali consistently and fluently, but after I started school I started to speak English more. I started to forget the language of my people, the language my relatives fought for. It's sad that the only word I can write in my own language is my name, but I can write paragraphs in a language that isn't mine. Yes, I study English for school, but Bengali is where my heart is. I've lived in NYC my whole life but I'm not completely American. My parents are from Bangladesh but I'm not completely bengali. I am in the middle and I will always be in the middle. I don’t want to erase my culture. Anonymous '22 (BHSEC Queens) She is in Los Ángeles
While I am trapped across the stupid frontera. Necesito cruzar al otro lado. Necesito a mi madre. But I'm only nine. No puedo cruzar. La policía va a agarrarme. I am alone. No puedo verla porque Ella me dejó. Ella no me recuerda. She doesn't love me. Forever under the same moon, La misma luna, I'm reminded that she won't come back. Leiel Mulakandov '22 (BHSEC Queens) |
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