My dad’s experience of going to America was difficult in the sense that he was the only one out of his nine siblings to go to college. He fought hard to receive a good education, but like I said before, it was difficult. He worked hard in school, went to Canada, learned French and got a job in New York. He worked hard to achieve his dreams of coming to America. Fernanda De Jesus (BHSEC Queens)
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Being raised in the Bronx and being Puerto Rican, I was always proud of my culture. I have always been amazed at how I can always relate to anyone that’s Latinx, no matter what country they are from. And I think that’s an amazing thing that our parents might not have been able to experience. Jayline Febles (BHSEC Queens)I was raised with two completely different cultures, often contradicting in nature, yet both value respect, family and a sense of community more than anything else. I can’t imagine growing up with anything else besides a fusion of cultures, clashing and merging. Nicole Carrillo (BHSEC Queens)I have inherited my Ethiopian identity from my parents and my Judaism from my gracious mother who has clarified the harsh reality of discrimination, racism, sexism, anti-Semitism, ...etc of today’s world. I have prospered or blossomed into the person that I am because I have seen the struggle, pain, passion, and willingness to survive and thrive, and people breaking through barriers and exceeding to high extent of wealth and happiness. My grandfather taught me that every human being has a will to fight, to become passionate to thrive even in a society that tries to limit or discredit you. Especially living in NYC, I am exposed to different ethnicities, religions, and races all compacted in one place, I have the opportunity to learn and listen to their stories and lessons. I go to my youth group also referred to as (bbyo) where I can talk and listen to these incredible Jewish stories about people in other countries finding themselves which have also have cooperated with me finding myself. Abby Cohn (BHSEC Queens)Being Latinx in America means being unwelcomed by my own place of birth. It means having to work harder for my success and having to defend my parents from a country that constantly rejects them. It means dealing with the constant clash of assimilation and my roots. Being Latinx in America means survival, and the ability to embrace both of my cultures without allowing one to overpower the other. It means I love being Mexican, but I also love being American (even if America has not fully learned to love and accept me yet) . Nicole Mendez (BHSEC Queens)A gentle reminder for a country that turned its back on people of color and bleached itself white. As if our ancestors had not transformed this country with survival and strength. Dear America, I am writing this letter because you deserve to know where you came from. The truth. That you go way back before 1776. Know that your story did not begin with the Declaration of Independence, but with a pair of iron wrist shackles and ghastly whips in the back. That before they shaped you into who you are today You were stolen from your indigenous parents And left an orphan through coercion. That they slaughtered thousands of lives And justified genocide. Know that they made a cold blooded business out of your body Exploited your resources, your soil, forced a callous racist system down your throat And turned you into a living hell for your black inhabitants. Know that you were baptized in the murderous waters of the Atlantic And “purified” among the corpses of the slaves who chose death during the Middle Passage. That you were owned and ruled by Europeans, But it was black cotton picking hands that raised you. That the lullabies that lulled you to sleep were not white, but a chorus of slaves tucking you into bed and wishing you a goodnight. Know that you were bathed in their sweat and tears, But dressed in their strength. That you are held together by the embrace of all the black mothers Who could not hug their children “I love you” And that you were woven out of the same yarn And cut from the same cloth of their inescapable misery. Know that the scars on their backs are your landscapes And that those landscapes derived from plantations. Know that this is your original sin and origin And that before your so called founders cried “ all men are created equal” They stripped you off your blackness, dipped you in red, white and blue, Adorned you with fifty stars and renamed you America: The land of the free. Nicole Mendez (BHSEC Queens)As a Latino with immigrant parents, I have seen firsthand the struggles that my family has faced to establish a life here in New York. However, these experiences have made me unapologetically proud of my Dominican culture and heritage. I love the fact that I have such close ties to Dominican food, dances, and music, especially since I visit every summer. Without a doubt, my Dominican and American cultures are a central part of my identity and I am so proud of that. AJ Salcedo (BHSEC Queens)We live our lives in hiding
But why? I’m not so sure We live our lives in fear Of someone walking through the door To take us far away Far away from home They’d leave us poor and stranded In a country not our own Jade Alvarez '23 (BHSEC Queens) La vida que no quiero,
La vida que da la esperanza Perdido en la vida que no es para mi. ¿Qué voy a hacer? Yo soy de que el gobierno tiene miedo, “Un ataque en pureza racial” Pero lo que no saben es que somos la gente detrás de la escena. Nunca conseguir el sueño americano, No es lo que queremos Este país no fue construido para nosotros. Nosotros somos las personas que nos están matando , para mejorar la vida. Nosotros somos las personas que trabajamos sin reconocimiento. Nosotros somos las personas que el gobierno pasa por alto. Pero nosotros somos las personas que son el futuro de los Estados Unidos Nosotros somos las personas que trabajan para nuestros futuros. Porque nosotros no tenemos miedo, Los Estados Unidos es un país construida sobre inmigrantes. Dicen que son mejores que nosotros. Pero nosotros somos mejores; Más trabajo duro. Mas determinado. Y tener más almas hermosas que todos nuestros enemigos. No nos echamos atrás sin luchar. Una lucha por nuestro futuro. Una lucha por nuestra libertad. Una lucha por nuestros derechos. Nadie es ilegal o invalido. Somos iguales. Publius '22 (BHSEC Queens) One big disadvantage of being an immigrant in an unfamiliar place is feeling like a foreigner. The concept of otherness brings me strange memories and stories from my family’s past. I wonder most days what it means to be American and whether or not I should feel ashamed of that part of my identity. I consider myself a mix of so many backgrounds and identities that it’s quite blurry by now. I have the European and Jewish essence from my ancestors that brings me my favorite traditions and cultural love. I’m so tightly tethered to my family in Israel, where I feel the meditteranean joy and Middle-Eastern spice that I miss when I’m away. I have a love for Mexican culture brought into my life by one of the many people who raised me and I feel at home speaking Spanish. I’m so other in my essence, but I think that that’s what it means to be American. So do I truly belong here? Maybe a massive advantage of being an immigrant or descended from immigrants is that you have the privilege of belonging to many places and groups.
The feeling fluctuates. Everywhere I go I seem to find conflict that changes the way I think and process my identity. It hurts me to stay in Israel for months and see the corruption and pain that the government continues to cause, but the people and the spirit there bring me euphoria every time I visit. I’m foreign in Israel because I live here. I’m foreign here because my family’s from Israel. I can only imagine the struggle of uprooting oneself and taking a journey to a new place where everything is different. I understand what it feels like living far away from the people you love. I guess that my immigrant voice comes from a mix of ideas, not unlike my mix of identities. I get my voice from those who came before me and continue to better my life today. I feel a medley of sympathy, empathy and compassion. Maybe it’s possible that the mixture that I am makes me American. In that case, we all can be. Anonymous '23 (BHSEC Queens) |
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