Immigrant Stories: How did you come to US?

Celebrating the Immigrant in all of US--even you, yes you


^ I love this poem.

I look to it when I’m a certain kind of down.

Recently, I had a really negative experience at the airport with an agent who demanded to know why I was born in one country, had “the ethnic last name of another” AND had a US passport.

If I wasn’t intent on making my plane I probably would have asked something like “Idk, where was your mother’s mother’s mother born mami? You don’t know my life. You’re making assumptions by looking at me and trying to match my presentation to the paper data but it’s a story that’s none of your business.”

I get it that a “weird” life path makes it open season on your ass at all the intersections of life. Because systems and rules are created with strict parameters of “normal” and “likely” in mind.

But, sometimes it makes for good poetry when you really fit in no where and everywhere all at once.

(Source: fairyonacidbanging)

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