Posted on by Zoya A. Abbas

American Dream- A Spoken Word

In The Beginning 

“I want to move to America. 

The first words of her American Dream baby. 

The start to a long, winding road with ups and downs that led to the golden arches of clean air, greasy diner food and capitalism.

The words written by a young woman who had never left her hometown, who never really left the small white room in her childhood home.

The words shared by so many visionaries who dreamt of the same blue skies as she had.

The musings of her dreams poured into letters that went into the pocket of her husband who promised her, it would happen

one day or three months

or a decade of a life built in the comfortable apartment  in a hectic city on a traffic ridden street, later;

something would happen.

Right now, she was just a young woman,  college bound, wanting to build herself in a career that most deemed “unsuitable”for a person like her. 

Time and time again, being the only woman in the department.  

It wouldn’t be the first or last time. 

She worked and worked and never stopped, till her step on the ladder grew, 

The roots of her hard work growing into a blossoming money tree.

The American Dream, baby. 

Also In the Beginning 

“I want to move to America,”

And so does half the working class in India, join the queue .

Others were a little less optimistic than she was, watching as friend after friend moved away to the promised land, 

promised so much but given so little. 

Given a one bedroom apartment  with an AC unit that you had to hit twice to feel cool air

Watching them turn and twist into becoming the computer guy joke for their colleagues at dinner parties. 

Or the foreign neighbors who were never invited to community picnics because they didn’t eat the barbeque sauce slathered piece of meat that their counterparts claimed was “to die for.”

Being the perpetual ‘others’. 

“Lock up your doors, lock up your windows! 

There are immigrants coming to steal your jobs!”

Constantly being told,

“Your accent makes it hard to understand what you’re saying.”

Hearing

“You’re not living here anymore, why do you care about us?”

Why would she want to go someplace where she wouldn’t be welcome?

Where people preach  of welcoming hard working immigrants into their cities 

But complain when they make themselves comfortable?

They told her,

The American Dream is just a fantasy,

For those who can afford it. 

Not everyone can go there, some of us are fine as we are. 

And you should be too. Remember what you have! 

How could you leave your parents?  At their age?

I know, 

I know. I know. 

But

Dreamers don’t stop dreaming after the sun wakes up and light hits their face. 

Dreamers don’t let go of that one dream that never seems to leave them, 

The one they recall to their roomates the next morning 

And ask them if they think it’s true. 

American Dreams were always on her mind. 

When she was working day and night, chasing that high. 

When she was traveling back and forth, imagining her life in the States. 

And when a baby girl,

A dark haired, bright eyed, tight ponytails and bad eyesight baby girl was born 

With the same skin and dreams as her,

A baby girl who wasn’t too young to

dream of freedom before she could even talk and the chance to be able to walk outside in the dark, alone,

to be able to breathe clean air,

to talk openly about her family, 

to love. 

She promised her that she would do right by her. 

Four Years, Two Months Later.

The clock hand tick by as she spends another night in her office, 

Typing out more presentations her boss needs by 11 AM, sharp. 

He forgot that his 11 AM was her midnight, 

Still, she continues. 

Tapping away on a company provided laptop, 

Her baby girl is miles away in a different country

Getting ready for her first day of school. 

She wonders if her husband played the video she had made, so baby girl doesn’t miss her mom so much. 

When she looks out of the window, she sees people wandering in the streets, 

Foreign people in a foreign land. 

She had been here many times before, 

One day she would have to get her family here too. 

Next year, she would have to come back again. 

Next month, they were sending her to Europe. 

Another two weeks before she’s home again, 

But not really. 

Not when her mind is miles away in an office chair overlooking the Seine,

Or in a dark lit conference room in Singapore, 

Or in the backseat of an airplane next to the bathroom and a very comfortable co-passenger. 

Work never stopped, not at the red light, 

Not during hospital visits

Not during  a birthday party.

Work so her American boss tells her that she’s doing a good job, 

Work so she can be the only woman in the meeting and still feel like The Man.

She wanted the American Dream, and she was getting there 

Working hard and becoming successful, check.

A good job, check.

A nice house, maybe one day.

Financially free, as much as one could be.

It would take time to get 

Where most people got, just by being born. 

As luck would have it, they got where she wanted by 

just being born.

At the right place, at the right time. 

12 Years, One Month and Nineteen Days Later,

A phone call. 

The phone rang from her work bag, 

(A foreign number; +1) 

She excused herself from the room and locked herself in the balcony. 

Her daughter watched her back as she faced away from them. 

Two minutes went by, then ten. 

She came back into the house

Walked past her daughter and to the living room. 

30 minutes, 5 seconds later.

The door to her daughter’s room opened. 

They walked in. 

She sat across from the girl, 

(Baby girl who was not a baby anymore),

“That was my boss,”

“He wants to move us to America.”

Silence

Surprise

Excitement

Where would we live?

 New York, Boston, Chicago?

A hopeful request

“Lexington, 

Kentucky.”

Silence. 

Disappointment 

But some,

Relief

Two older and one young shoulder

Let go of stress, 

Worry

And let excitement fill their souls,

relief and gratitude

for whatever Fates led them to this moment. 

flashes of red white and blue before their eyes.. 

The American Dream got one step closer. 

5 Years And Then Some

Baby girl has been living here for 5 years now, 

5 years, two schools, one green card and a brand new personality later. 

Baby girl has an American accent to her friends back in India.

But her friends in Kentucky say that she has a British accent, 

(she doesn’t understand how that’s possible.)

Baby girl is living her childhood dreams, 

Going to football games, 

Walking alone outside, after 8-PM. 

Driving. 

Baby girl finds it hard to listen to her friends when they talk about how much they hate America. 

After all she’s been through to get there, 

It’s blasphemous to hate the country, 

That gave so much hope. 

When she was younger, 

She had a Dream, 

That when she would

Work Hard

Play Hard

She would 

Get Successful.

Have a Nice House. 

With stairs inside, 

A backyard that’s just hers. 

Maybe a fireplace, if that wasn’t pushing it.

Be financially stable.

As financially free as one could be. 

A dream, baby.

Posted on by Zoya A. Abbas

Serina and Sahar’s Story

I had the opportunity to work with an organization based in Kentucky called Kentucky Refugee Ministries. The company works with refugees who relocate to Kentucky, trying to help them get their way around their new homes. KRM (Kentucky Refugee Ministries) works to provide them with resources like jobs, medical appointments and homes, getting a driver’s license or learning about the American way of life. This summer, I was an intern for the KRM office in Lexington, KY. Along with my usual tasks of scanning papers, making boxes of item to be placed in the homes of refugee families and aiding with tasks around their office, I also got to work with their team on a writing project that focused on the refugee youth.

The refugee youth is a group of people who can often be overlooked when it comes to resettlement. They may be too young or more often than not, expected to figure out this new life on their own. as someone who moved to a new country at an impressionable age, I understood the perils and challenges of moving to a new country. Although our stories and journeys are different, I found that most youth share the same sense of excitement and loneliness when it comes to resettlement. I got to interview five students, from various countries and backgrounds, and talked to them about their move.

This is Serina and Sahar’s story.

One of the greatest challenges that both immigrants and refugees who relocate to the United States face is learning the English language. English is widely regarded as a notoriously hard language to learn and adding that to the general stress and difficulty of moving to an entirely new country can often make the life of the refugee youth even harder. Although it is a very popular language amongst many people, English is not taught around the world and for some families, it is a path to a better life. 

Serina and Sahar Shalash moved to the United States from Jordan two years ago. Sahar is in 7thgrade and Serina is in 6th grade, and they were still in elementary school when their family, their parents and three siblings, moved to the United States. Their primary goal was to learn the language which would help them get a good education and a way to live a better life and a very different one from the one they left behind. 

Many families who move to the US come here for a better life, especially for their children. Serina and Sahar’s family was no different. They came here hoping that their children would be able to learn and communicate in a language that would be spoken all over the world. However, this move came with its own challenges. 

Sahar said that she found it hard to understand her peers in school. Not only did the language barrier make her school life more challenging but also the cultural difference. She said her fellow classmates were very different from her and found it hard to make friends. Learning English was not as much of a problem for her, she relied on her studies, books, and a couple of movies to get the knowledge she needed.

Most of the youth that immigrates to a new country, especially at an older age, faces the challenge of fitting in. It is hard enough to have to leave behind friends and family, the two sisters said that it was the worst part about having to leave Jordan, but the several cultural shocks which came with moving here makes the transition to US much harder than anticipated. On the other hand, Serina had a different story from her older sister. She talked about how she made friends very easily in her new school and did not face as much of a challenge in classes. One teacher stuck out for her. An English teacher who was respectful of the recently immigrated teenager and made sure to make Serina sit in the front of the classroom during her lessons. 

I often hear about stories of teachers and their impact on their students, especially those refugee youth who face more challenges than anyone in their classroom can imagine. Speaking from my own experience as a student who immigrated to the US when I was 12, certain teachers are still in my mind as I think about my adjustment to my new home. Their actions and encouragement made more of an impact on my life than they could imagine. Sometimes, even the simplest praises or words of advice would turn a hard day into a positive one.  

Serina and Sahar’s stories show a window into an aspect of refugee youth that many people seem to forget. While a large focus is given on the adults who make the decision, or are forced to make the decision, to move to a new country, the youth are often not mentioned. Sometimes, the children are expected to adjust on their own which is unfair to their lack of experience. Their stories are reminders to adults, students, and teachers about the importance of sensitivity and patience. The journey of learning English would become more than just a challenge to overcome, it would be a start to a new world of opportunities. 

This is the website for Kentucky Refugee Ministries which will feature a few ways you can get involved in helping their mission

https://kyrm.org/get-involved/

Posted on by Zoya A. Abbas

Why My Family Moved To The US

My family moved to the US in 2018. My mom had gotten a promotion and needed to be in her company’s headquarters in Lexington Kentucky. I was 12 when we moved. Initially I was upset at the thought of leaving my friends, home and family to move to a foreign country and being a new kid. However, the thought of living in the land of freedom and opportunities was much bigger than the fear of change. We were thrilled about the life we would get to live in America. In the beginning, I used to feel very foreign. I live in a city where there aren’t that many Indian families which was very strange for me and I would feel like an outcast anytime I was in public. After getting over the initial insecurity, I took advantage of the place I was in. I signed up for any opportunity I got my hands on. Moving here helped me get so many new windows to improve and show off my interests and passions. That is why my family moved to America, for equal possibilities and platforms to excel. 

This article is also published on https://my-america.org/your-story/. It is under the tab of “opportunity”.