The Dream is Leaving (A Poem)

When you live outside of America, America is a beacon.

You see its regal foundation, its open-armed embrace,

its affirmations of light, love and welcoming.

In America, it doesn’t matter who you are, it matters that you are there.

When tragedy strikes at home, America will be your safe haven–

it’s okay, you can build a new life there.

There’s fighting here, but not in America.

The beacon pulls you in.

You flee from your home. You don’t have any other choice.

When you get to America, you prepare yourself for a new beginning.

You are excited, ready to experience these strong-held promises of life, liberty and justice,

of opportunity, riches and education,

of nondiscrimination and acceptance.

After all, this is the place for it. This is the template that the rest of the world looks to.

It’ll be alright if everything takes a little longer than expected,

if citizenship, the realization of your full rights, keeps getting pushed farther and farther from your grasp.

You’re an immigrant in America, and it isn’t like what you see on TV.

They don’t tell you about racism, sexism and xenophobia in the international news.

But you learn fast what it means to not fit in.

Simultaneously, you’re asked to both hide your identity and speak on behalf of others “like you.”

You find it strange that for you and your brother to succeed your parents have to work to the bone.

In America, you’re not supposed to be saving your pennies.

It’s clear that the dream that has been advertised does not apply to everyone.

You’re becoming an adult in America, and you’re realizing that problems multiply with age.

You’re beginning to think more seriously about your future.

What you want are the simple things–

A little family, a meaningful job, a fireplace and a coffee shop to sit in.

You want to hold the hand of the person you love as you walk down the street.

But people don’t like multi-racial couples, and they don’t like queer ones either.

When you tell people you want to leave America, they seem surprised.

There exists this assumption that America is the final resting place,

That no matter why you came or where you call home, America is so perfect that nobody wants to leave.

But there is freedom elsewhere. More freedom elsewhere.

Funny, your American dream is to not be here at all.

P is…