“Just don’t say anything you can pass like an American”
Wait a minute here. I don’t want to be quiet to pass by. I’ve done it for too long. You gonna hear my voice, my accent, and my anger, that you planted on me, while I spent years trying to fit in”
My blog is called LIVE OUT LOUD TOO for a reason. I will not ask permission or control my voice anymore because it’s not up to your American standards. I didn’t move here to be muffled because you think you are better than me. I’m here to be loud. Latina loud. Brazilian loud.
Deal with it.
That’s was a Facebook status update from yesterday. It was about a memory from 6 years ago when I was filling the Greencard paperwork, and questioned why immigrants are called “Allien” over and over.
Tiny little cuts, you just feel the pain after.
So this piece is about enduring all that, through the past 6 years, while trying to have my voice heard, and find my place in this country. All the tiny papercuts I have to deal with.
From time to time I have to deal with the same immigration problems. Being told by clueless people that immigrants are only here to steal their jobs and hard-earned money. I’m sorry, but I can almost guarantee you that the 200 bucks that you paid in taxes your whole life while making 7,25 an hour, would not give you a fantastic retirement.
We are not taking money from you, if you look closely, you never made enough. You want to complain that an immigrant is getting your retirement money when you didn’t even finish high school.
Life made you bitter. It’s not my fault.
I feel sorry that all your dreams were washed away from you. Maybe you didn’t have any dreams to pursue, or a chance to dream of being something other than a 9 to 5 worker. All you taught growing up was how to work to feed your family. And that made you bitter.
Bitter when you see someone that doesn’t look like you succeed. Someone that doesn’t look like you, or prays to the same God, becomes a president. Someones that don’t sound like you, gets a job and creates a great life. Especially because in your mind, you think you deserve it because heck, you worked your entire life. But guess what? I’m working my way through life too. In a second language. In a country that I didn’t grow up in.
All these years I cried, with that feeling that I don’t belong here. That feeling that you planted on me, with your “I’m not trying to offend you” harsh words. When you applaud and cherish a president, who never wanted any of us here, besides his foreign trophy wives. You enable this feeling.
“You think the only people who are people, are the people who look and think like you.” – Pocahontas
Let me tell you, good sir, things are different when you don’t see life through your political goggles. Immigrants work and they work hard. Sometimes we flee our countries for safety, and for a chance to have a better life. Can you put yourself in a position of having to leave everything behind to start over, in a country that doesn’t want you here?
You come here, fleeing the war or extreme poverty, with little to nothing, to save your kid and give them better opportunities. Have you stopped to think about how hard it is? It’s not your culture, it’s not your food, it’s not your language, it’s not your people. Like a videogame, after you died and get a chance to start over, from zero. With one life left.
These people are not coming over here to get a chunk of your hard-earned 7.25 an hour. They would rather work and be with their families in their country, instead of being here, harassed for something it’s not their choice. It’s not being a snowflake democrat, my good sir. It’s being human. It’s having empathy. Did Jesus talk about empathy in his book?
The Problem with interpretation.
Having read through that sacred book millions of times, and knowing it by heart, you are having a problem with interpretation. Love thy neighbor. I’m not an expert, but what I understand about this verse is “love your neighbor” and that the part you probably need help interpreting. The parable of the Good Samaritan, don’t do to others, what you would not like to be done to you. Treat others with the same respect you would respect yourself.
WAKE UP! I think you might be sleeping during the mass.
There is no need to go to church because it doesn’t make you a good person. We all sin, but in your mind, you think you have the right to judge my sin like you are some kind of Jesus sent to earth. Let me tell you.
Jesus is watching very closely what you’ve been doing to me. And when you get to the gates of heaven, you might have some explaining to do. I don’t think they will let you in, in my opinion, you will be in limbo. Because of how you treat people different than you, and your terrible choices.
All the not helping others, judging harshly who thinks different than you, and being aggressive with people that you should support, is getting a whole chapter in the Jesus notebook. It’s never too late to change, but with all you’ve done for others, you might need 3 different lives to cleaned all your records up.
You made your life choices, I made mine. Move on.
I keep trying to restructure myself after the mess you go back to the vault, every time you come around, I find more and more reasons to not want to be closer. I tried. God knows how much I tried and how many tears I cried trying to be part of something I don’t fit in.
Shame on you if you full me once, shame on me, if you fool me twice.
You cut me like a papercut. It’s always unexpected, but the cut hurts me for days. The tiny little cut on my finger keeps reminding me to be more careful next time. It hurts and it bleeds from inside.
I never asked for that.
That’s the situation I never asked for. I was always respectful, understanding, and quiet. Condescend maybe. All I wanted was a family to embrace me, be proud of me and my achievements. All I got was rage and mistreatment, misinterpretation, covered in sheepskin because the immigrant got a life you could never have. It’s ok.
I have my husband and friends that love me and take care of me. Just like the family I wanted to when I moved to America. So I will cherish them like I would like to have cherished you. Well, your loss. Little by little, I will regain my strength and I will shine.
As I finish this piece, I wish you well. Because your anger pushes me forward.
The Allien you can’t get rid of.
2 thoughts on “Papercuts.”
I have no words to put down here to express how inspired I feel after reading this post. I’m not an immigrant myself but it felt empowering to read through this and I am able to get a new perspective about not just American Immigrants but also people who’ve immigrated into my home country. I’m just filled with the beautiful feeling of having read something powerful. Thank you for sharing this!