Let me know when you meet a child of immigrants who isn’t good at math.

Whose parents force him to load up his schedule with more APs than there is Daal and Chicken curry on his dinner plate.

But his parents don’t know his love for the arts, his love for music.

They don’t know that behind his huckleberry skin lies a kid who wants to find the art in the heart of his education.


We don’t comprehend the truth behind the fact that, it is a system.

A complex system,

which oppresses those who can’t keep up with others running in this rabbit race, they are turtles



That child wants to love his life, not hate it for what his parents made it.

His parents came from a war torn country to give him a good life, but despite his efforts to please them, he is depressed.

He does not want to live.

He opens his eyes every morning to see the tests he missed one percent on from an A+, and makes one scar on his shoulder for it

which smolders with hatred for himself.


He yells out to the world to fix his broken life.

And it’s not that he’s isn’t grateful for his parents efforts, and it’s not that he isn’t happy with a good GPA or passes some irrelevant standardized test.

But it’s that he is the only child with a mind for who he really wants to be in life.

He is one in 67 of the other minorities in school, who cares about his own well being rather than being a mechanical nobody who is going to end up in some cubicle one day.


 He says

“Since when did existing become the hardest part of being alive?

When did breathing become a burden that I couldn’t bear to carry

When will the shackles of society let me loose?

I am worthy

I am ready to get better

so please tell me if I’m fucking not”




I want to tell him that I am with him.

I am a child of immigrants,  I am that child!

I want to tell him that I along with him want the same things.

I am ready to get better.


I want to show him that there is a life outside of what your parents’ backwards thinking will get you.

And that one day when he grows up he will come to learn that he is in the lead.

That he is taking control of his own destiny.


I want to show him to be a Phoenix, to rise from the ashes of who he once was, and to become reborn.

I want to tell him that I along with him am set aflame, in the blaze of my own glory.

Because in this time, in this place I am a firebird, and nothing can take that way from me.





This poem is about: 
My family
My community
My country
Our world


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