“It is no measure of good health to be well adjusted to a sick society.”

-Andrea Gibson, spoken word poet and activist

I often admire the immigrant’s ambition

for it take guts to leave behind an entire world

carrying on your back the weight of an American dream

and at arriving watching your dream unfold into a nightmare…

it’s more than the realization these streets aren’t made of gold:

it’s the fear that the color of your skin

and the accent in your tongue

is somehow too alien…

the possibility that in this new land, you’re not human enough.