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The history of Black People,And all of our People should be celebratedYear-round: every day, week, month, and decade.The celebration must go on unabated,All the time. The first couple,
In the USA, Black History month is celebrated In February, the month with the shortest days
We must love our own First We must fight for our own First
The least racist person is a racistThe least fascist person is a fascistThe least criminal is a murdererThe least sinner is a big sinner.
Sous le pont De Del Rio sont arrêtés, coincés, entassés Amassés des milliers d'Haïtiens migrants, pas d'Ukrainiens
Bajo el puente Del Río están parados, atascados, estacionados Miles de inmigrantes Haitianos, no Ucranianos Francamente, si fueran estos últimos, no serían sancionados
Meu país é o belo sol Meu país não é o inverno rigoroso Meu país é um Éden muitas vezes verde Sempre lânguido e tropical ao amanhecer.
Mi patria es el hermoso sol Mi país no es el invierno duro Mi país es un edén a menudo verde Siempre lánguido y tropical al amanecer.
My country is the beautiful sun My country is not the hard winter My country is an often green Eden
What is this, who is this, what is this?
Yes, I will certainly vote But I won’t vote for liars I will not vote for backstabbers
Powerful words,Truthful words,Honest words,Brave words;This is exactly what the Doctor orders,For a nation, who's trying to fight the horrorsOf blatant racism,
No eres nadie Como yo no soy nadie Eres alguien Como soy alguien Hay una humanidad
You are nobody As I am nobody You are somebody As I am somebody There’s one humanity Let’s thank God and Jesse
Encore des larmes aux yeux pour notre brave Haïti Encore des larmes aux yeux pour notre incroyable Pays
Be not afraidTo fight the right fightsThe hate, the hatredTo regain your rightsTo end bigotry, racismFascism and nepotism.
Wir kommen Wir wandern Und wir gehen Das ist alles was wir wissen. Wir kommen auf die Erde
We come We roam And we go That’s all we know. We come on earth We roam, we surf
These are not events that took place very far in the past These are obviously ongoing racial gaffes and contrasts Where human beings are bombarded and mistreated
Tell me more about democracy Nobody is a fool Tell me more about dichotomy Go ahead! I am cool
I love; I really love your voice and your dictionRecite me a poem in an unknown languageI don't give a darn about the pronunciationUndress the words; I love them when they're naked.
The nonstop negative news or publicities on Haiti Hurt tremendously and disturbingly The relentless or constant bashings of all Haitians
I’m exhausted by the grief And drained by this place This place that once held promise This world that once had values Or perhaps it never did
You would have to see or witness this to believe it These horses were smarter than the border patrol agents Because the smart animals avoided charging these poor migrants
This is not a recrudescence of racism In America or in the world, but rather A continuum of malfeasance, antagonism And hardcore cruelty of the systemic horror
Myriads of Haitian-Americans will vote in the next US election We are sending stern warnings to the current administration We will vote for one party and we will rock the boat
Mitt hus Det huset, biblioteket på Skogås, Och dessa vägar med musikaliska namn, Runt andas jag av fur och gran. Här, på fuktigt lövverket umgås Och leker, springer, babblar barn.
I was always a man on move, a man on run, a man on Highway Maybe, that is my destiny, my karma, my go to place, my secret conclave Highways keep on surprising me as magic unfolds every second
Romantic blood and majestic past; Flatter the abused, give them scraps, Or they’ll ask for respect. Maintain a system Of perception. No, don’t call it oppression. You are made of gold --
Waterman, Dutch liner on which you made your passage- Father, smiling from the gangplank hand raised, waving at your friend's camera... and all this, from my memories
-and yet i am still breating feeling she is gone but i still feel her spirit surrounding me the colors of her country seep through her and onto me this is the dream of an immigrant this is progress.
The American Dream A run in fear The sprint to safety A jog for a dream A race with death
I moved to New York with a head full of dreams Left behind what I knew and was scared to face my fears I told myself "isn't this what you wanted? Why are you afraid?" I finally understood the changes that had to be made.
Silently in the back she sits, everyday in every class, Waiting for the bell to ring like a spilling hourglass. Her name remains anonymous to all except the teacher,
Rolling stones can gather no moss and so, much can be said for stability, for establishing roots, having a sense of place, spending generations at the old homestead.
Flora and Fauna innocent and pure elements of nature's dance you have never known nor observed, borders or barriers and for you, fences are useless. Though cattle and tumbleweeds
An anonymous Katya or Magda with a simple peasant face, yet with eyes of intensity- you look at the camera with candor... There's nothing pretentious here, no flashiness
Growing up education was of great importance I always had to have the best academic performance The most inspiring people I know Always with me where I go My mom and dad didn't have the opportunities I had
Immigrants THIS And Immigrants THAT ... !!! All This Government Talk's Helping Hatred SOAR ... !!!!! Meantime They KEEP ON Making Plans And Setting ... "TRAPS" ... !!!
Moving from Japan to Hawai’i by boat A long journey, a new beginning Money was in need and there was work to be done The sun shined bright, heat became unbearable
To Become English Citizens It's Been ... " Alleged " ... Some Women Are Willing To ... S P R E A D Their Legs ... !!! I Guess You Really Can't Blame Them ... !?! " Lunar House " ... Down There In Croydon ...
O great america we fight for
When you are clueless what to do and what not to do When the wall ahead seems too high to cross When the road uphill seems too stiff to climb When the task in hand looks insurmountable to fulfil
You were young and dumb. A man from Juárez, driving around Aurora. Banda music blaring from the speakers,
Much like a zombie, a person sans vie prowling around mimicking birds constantly using idiotic words Sleep all day, party all night, constantly cutting short other’s lives
Adornamos la sala con embras; vino, rojo, negroEs un carnival de color snip, snip, snippasa me otra Cuidado!agara la tijera firmejala los hilos sueltosmira, asi
Shed the skin of the colonizer As if it is not also mine As if the blood coursing through me did not also pool along the legs of Malintze
The land out in the sea Mysterious and hidden From many who wish to see A place of triumph A place of beauty tis it One of which many wish to visit
Oh, how quick they were to try and suffocate the flames On the sacred, seasoned, sanctuary known as Notre Dame. Oh, how the people stared and sobbed and frowned and asked God why
Born in classic white suburbia, The most American Dream of cities. Gifted with white picket fences, Highly rated schools, And a Mexican population of 3.2%.
There’s this static noise In every phone call Getting harder to ignore As the days go by An unspoken truth:
There is a song that I was forced to hear The voices were often lined with not love, but neither hate This song is known far and near This song was never recieved with much love, but neither hate
I am from the vast landscapes Of the Horn of Africa I am from the bitter-sweet coconuts That fall from the pine trees I am from Somalia The Country that breeds my heritage
When you stepped off that plane With your darkened eyes And heavy suitcases And rumpled clothes Your heart was full of Dreams
We come from a land filled with a loud and colorful noise echoing in the streets; timeless traditions; a love between everyone in the community, regardless of differences.
I remember the days when you were nine. Where rainbows cast a kaleidoscope line. Our homes were safe and borders clear, no longer the case, alas our fears. I would hold your hand and guide our way, down dusty roads past fields of hay.
I once believed in the American dream. I believed in it because of its hope-- Its guarantee that if I worked hard enough I just might touch the fluorescent green light.
The pilot says We're landing in thirty minutes thirty minutes to prepare for a new land a new language new people. Should I be excited or scared? I left my friends, family,
I ripped my heart from my chest, as I am apt to do; "Do you believe in God?" Does "God" believe in you? I wasn't raised a Catholic, but I know Baptists,
they come from far away leaving behind everything they know hoping everything will be okay some packing nothing but a photo
There is a wall plan, And it is being applied. Then money isn't there.
Breath of marble And how could we continue to ignore the nature to us fraternal, in the black martyrdom without land, of the crucified migrant to the mast
Her Paper VoiceBy: Sophia Huynh
I was born Of a European Yew. Its mighty bough had grown Twisted and encrusted With moss In the garden of my great-great grandfather. As he left his house for the final time
The melting pot stopped melting because water can only boil so much when there are no additives; I am not an addict, but I know addition. I can churn out chorizo like your ancestors could churn butter.
In the eyes of the president, I’m a fucking rapist In the eyes of the president, I don’t work for shit In the eyes of the president, I’m a drug user
Red, white, and blue What does that mean to you? To you red might symbolize love But to me red symbolizes the blood
I’d love to rest my head on my mother's shoulder but, She wouldn’t understand and tell me instead, be strong.
To you, who flew in face of everything despite the world's old plans, Like a flower blooming after the garden was torched. To you, the saving grace, generosity spurred by love for a stranger,
I am from red soap and red skies I am from limonada con tehuacan I am from the heart of Mexico city and the outskirts of Izamal I am from my abuelita y her abuelitas before her
Surrounded by voices; I was a <murmur>. Fear had stolen my lips away, Locked them in a vault under the sea- Why? My mind was confused.
CORNEA. it is the Fourth of July and I am sixteen years old.
My fight does not stem from the desire to overpower My fight stems from my roots embedded in the rich earth of my motherland My struggle stems from the recognition that evil will always exist if good stays silent
Power was not what I gained Rather what I used Knowledge was what I used And also gained POETRY was a time machine I wrote of the anguish of a slave To say he or she was not important
I come from a little town in the western part of Mexico A pueblo called Santa Anita in Guadalajara, Jalisco From dreamers both my parents and I Who came to seek a better future until we die
We come here in hopes of a new life,we come here in hopes that we'll surive,but we're not welcomed here, we're pushed aside told,you come from the wrong country please leave or die.
How do people expect Someone new to this place, To learn the language Without putting sounds to a face. As you get older those things take time. To learn the rules and make things rhyme.
Dear mother, Drifting into a land unknown, What did you fear at the ripe age of nineteen? You have spread your wings and flown, Through fearless endeavors in an ocean so green,
Dear Beautiful America, A scared girl she was when she crossed the border. Her parents wanted a better life for her…more opportunities She was too young. “Illegals” and “Aliens” they called her
Hello Brother. I miss you Our family misses you. It isn't your fault. You did nothing wrong. No one can help where they're born. This has left our family torn.
Winter is leaving soon- are you prepared for spring? Another year has flown by- not ready to slow down. They say a new year another chance- a new year filled with opportunities.
¿Como estás?How are you, man?I'm thinking about you again.
Dear Beautiful: From then until now Your scars still show Your tears are dried and when people speak it hurts. Dear Beautiful: You think you are so unnatractive
Dear Mr. Trump, I feel like I’m living in a required reading novel, I’ve been hoping it’s A Wrinkle in Time, but it’s looking like 1984. Please stop goading North Korea, please.
I’m finally beginning to come to the terms with the fact That I live in a world where most people would rather build a wall than a bridge That dreams are not for children
Smile at the Russian man who talks kindly of his home landLaugh with the German girl who walks with an American Shake hands with the French man who will learn English in time
Dear world, He says - we speak English in America She says - don't speak in your language Ask me who I am Ask me how I've built Upon my American dream Ask me how I feel
The sinister lies/of the people/Who have never experienced the truth/They see a pride of lions prowling on their prey,/I see them feeding their starving cubs./They see it as an invasion of their territory/I see shivering and freezing creatures loo
They had me… They had me… They had me on my knees… begging for me to return back Begging to redo my shameful mistake To redo my past To redo the few minutes that I had… to regain their trust.
37.1 trillion cells 23 pairs of chromosomes 46 chromosomes total 4 stories The pigment of my skin, a reminder of the humid city my family came from.
You came unto me Because you love me And because I love you I will protect you And because you love me You will defend me at every opportunity And because I love you
A mother, looking down at her child, giving kisses to his forehead, and holding him close. A teenager, acting foolishly and disrespectfully towards his crush, who seems to be uncomfortable.
I have a black friend And I have a white friend
There was once a mermaid, From the sea. Who wished to be, like you and me. To freely walk on city streets. And find a place worn with peace. Her home you see, was wrought with strife.
Once upon a time, In a world gray and blue Lived an orphan, A blossoming youth, With golden hairs, And deep blue eyes, But rough, burnt skin, And a foreign smile.
White walls Question my worth because you can then drain my essence through your fingers I am sand I am sand. White walls They don't understand
Once upon a time people lived in peace And everybody's sadness came to cease But now all of this is gone because now People judge you for being who you’re
Every single day without fail a voice would blare out the words to an anthem that we loyally repeated, Right hand over our heart Left hand behind our back
Trudging and dragging In the scorching heat Gravel and dust blows Across their feet A woman holds the hand of a child
1992marks the yearmy grandmotherfinallymade it to the United States. 2017marks the year she becamea citizen. somewhere in betweenthose yearsI realizedAmericadoes not look like me.soon after came the realization thatAmerica only lovesa familiar fac
America is a puzzle. The people are the pieces. Pieces that come in all shapes, sizes, and colors. Each piece is made of wood That comes from all over. Mexico, Canada, Poland, Germany, Japan, China and India.
The red white and blue Seem to mock the brown hues of our skin But we plant our feet firmly We are here to stay Blood, sweat, and tears,
Land of the free and home of the brave. We take the world's pitiful and their worst. Freedom and happiness is all that we crave, The poor, however, are forever cursed.
Each breath taken is An exercise, An experiment that stretches the definition of "American," Attempting to find the extent of a definition on paper And applying it to a person who lives and breathes and grows,
Crucible (Noun). That Merriam-Webster, you know-- The paperback with the musty smell and the bright red circle On the cover, a standard, commonplace to school and kirk-
Land of the free And home of the brave That’s what they’d say. Yes, That’s what they say. But then like a plague
My Parents fled from Iraq To the great U.S of A Seeking Religous freedoms, while keeping Saddam at bay Michigan is where they settled Had children who grew and mettled I gazed in awe at the Great Lakes
What if you could fly, soar in the sky with the birds flying by? What if you have to leave your family behind to maybe never see again? What if you have to walk
Headlines. Trump- worst president in history Trump ruined America How Trump is spending his money The truth about Trump. Okay, so we hate Trump. How many of us can really say why?
From day one, boys are taught to treat women with respect. These boys then watch their fathers vote for a man who claims you must “treat women like shit”.
Why are we turning back? Was the scar from the trail of tears not deep enough? To plunge another knife, in our tarnished history? We are the epitome of irony, and all our immigrant ancestors would agree.
Oh say can’t you see Ms. Liberty? You should be bending down on your knees, bending over backwards, Begging Please Begging that your babies stop being shot in the streets
“America the Beautiful" Many a times I have heard But beauty is subjective Beautiful to thy neighbor But to me, empty words “America the Great” I have heard time and time again
We are amazing We are free We have been born here and that is all we need to prove it We’ll protect you, feeble ones Our might is strong
As I’m walking out, I see a different world.I stay looking at the news, telling myself this isn’t real.I feel like I’m always gonna be asking myself why. Why does the world have to be so racist.Why does the world have to have so much hatred. Why d
They called it the free world, Where people came from around the globe, Where people came seeking freedom, And now walk in fear. What land of opportunity?
I don't want to take your jobs, or have your money- I don't want your welfare, property, or clothes. I don't want to take advantage of your health care or social security-
America, a country baptized in blood and built on the backs of those who wouldn't know the freedom she promised until far after her completion.
America is the new China I was built up like The great wall of china I am strong, powerful, impenetrable, Fortified heavily until nothing can hurt me. But like the great wall of china,
Every time you turn on the TV There’s more bad news. It's so easy to ignore When it's not affecting you. People are suffering. Children are dying. When justice can no longer win
They scream go back to your country, but I have more native blood in my veins than they ever could
I still feel the slap of disgrace in humanity and I will still feel the grip of xenophobia It feels like water up my nose when I can swim but I Still Can’t Breathe
Land of the free home of the brave Try and say it at Trayvon's grave
America is pretty great that I will admit. Freedom, justice, liberty We're all entitled to it. But America is changeable. We need some help, in fact. There are many problems we face here.
I cannot write to you about love because as much as it is darling there are many other issues to eradicate, For instance my best friend was shoved in a closet for hours due to him humming. He couldn't control himself either,see that's what autism
A child of an immigrant knows stength, We see it every day in their eyes. A child of an immigrant understands courage, We wouldn't be here without it. A child of an immigrant is proud,
oh, give me a home <br>where the buffalo roam <br>where the deer and the antelope play <br>where seldom may heard a discouraging word <br>and the skies are not cloudy all day <br><br>america, land of true libert
Two souls live in my body One has endless American pride The other likes to hide American I am called by brilliance Mexican by my appearnce Land of the free and of the brave is for the snobby
Rapists, criminals, drug dealers. Is that who we are? Is that our projection to this nation? Hardworking, loyal, and persistent.
America the great where we care more about a kid’s GPA more than their mental health. where we are driven by money and not dreams. where the people are lied to, and believe every word.
Hand over heart, head lifted to Old Glory. A flicker, a single thought, crosses my mind. I remember, I remember when ash rained down like new fallen snow,
American'tt a k eaway my rights to have neighbors of different backgrounds American't
Over the screams of homosexuality, of Islam. The hope of immigrants, victims. Over the screams of gender equality Enraged women, men, Freedom without persecution, is ideal,
People ask me what to me makes America. If you ask 1,000 people you will get 1,000 answers, some good some bad, so let me just lay down a few facts.
As a little girl coming from South America to this new country, they told us about the "new life" we'd have, the great oppurtunities but most importantly the safety and the acceptance of this loving country.
New York The Big Apple Largest city in America She has welcomed many Many in need Many who wanted to start over. This amazing city
What does it mean to be free? To be on your own To be left alone To not be under any control Are people really free in America? Of course We're the land of the free Everyone is welcome
What does it mean to be free? To be on your own To be left alone To not be under any control Are people really free in America? Of course We're the land of the free Everyone is welcome
My grandmother saw America not as a land of opportunity, but as a last resort. Taking off only when there was nothing left Leaving because a twenty-six-year-old with four children cannot provide on a dime.
I was built up like The great wall of china I am strong, powerful, impenetrable, Fortified heavily until nothing can hurt me. But like the great wall of china, I am a barrier between realms
The land of the free Oh, the possibilities that there could be Free to exist as our true selves Whether in religion or thought That is was at least what I was taught
Welcome to your new job as my bodyguard The road ahead, I know it will be hard But when I ask for your help I know You’ll say, do you need one of my hands or both?
On a special morning in December 20 years ago I landed with only 2 suitcases I cried, missing all the familiar faces I was scared
Sretno novo leto. Hvala, također. We sit at our table of three After mass in our language (held in the real church’s basement)
Cleanliness important since birth Ingrained in his head since he was a kid Friday morning palms overhead Leaves are looking a little long Traces of dirt find their way to the ground
When I saw my dad cry I was lost, the male role model who held back tears when nothing would hold back for him. Who looked challenges in the eye and smiled.
There's a group of people, living in silence - in the darkenss Many are aware of their existence Many are not Who am I to shine light on them - shine the truth It makes me sick to the stomach
They come From the great sea Wanting everything Taking all We try to talk, Reason These beings So rough and alien
I am an alien, a rapist, a criminal My accent and skin color makes this visible I steal jobs, in no way contribute to society They say an illegal deserves no equality
As I get up in the morning I greet the day. And although the sun is shining, A smile does not grace my face. I go to school as I usually do, Saying Hello to my fellow youth
Stars/// eyes meet mine across the crowd, calling for migration,temptation, must be just a friendly salutation, I tell myself, butallow for a moment, the idea it could be more.Across the border
On the occasionally sunny day, when it does not rain The Smiler walks out into the blue of today, and bike rides to the city The Smiler is one who, sees with open eyes
You were a child who didn't belong in one place or the other. How could you respond to the taunts that still haunt your deep thoughts? Between the father that hurt you and the mother that gave you up
They walk and talk like they really know mebut I'm not just some random bodyI don't need them to dictate what I can and cannot do
The Sun rises and birds start to sing, as I look out my window, little innocent me. But little did I know, that my morning routine was about to be stopped. It was time for me to leave,
I feel the burn of the smelly and strong relaxer on my head The chemical takes hostage of each of my natural curls and permanently damages it
A poem inspired by the militarization of the border as well as the Chicano Movement. Las hierlas
Immigration… I can barely begin to talk about it Immigration is a hot topic in the news these daysTrump says kick the foreigner outKeep the American paidBut the foreigners paved the wayYou see without my people There wouldn’t be what is todayBut
I have been an American My entire life, Ever since dad Asked mom to be his wife. They are American too Despite the color of their skin, Being born in Mexico Doesn't make their life here a sin.
This is not about the country, This is about being undocumented. We cross the border Without knowing our own destiny. Some have luck, others die trying. Some die in the desert, and others die in the train.
Tale of an Immigrant by Christian Betancourt
Where are you from? I- No. Where are you really from?
Do I look like a criminal or rapist? I'm not a criminal and I'm not rapist I am angry. I am angry that people who support Donald Trump are proud of it
I am America
I am American, Not only American but Hispanic. Cultures joined inevitabley, Treated inequitably; Because ONE of both are immigrants I am the result of their love YET treated unfair
I am the Magpie. When Winter came, I flew South; “It’s warmer there,” they said. Will I ever see my home again? When Winter came, I flew South, But I will return home in the Spring.
I am from croquettas de jamon, From guava and cheese. I am from sandy beaches heated by the bright, burning sun (Beating, glistening, warming my skin, tasting like freedom)
Pack your suitcase, get on the plane Barely four, barely knew my name It's time to leave my home behind In search of freedom and peace of mind Brand new country, "paved with gold"
She traveled for days, in a maze with no direction destined for an escape from depression driven by disaffection By fate she felt a connection They ran until he was cuffed into oppression Later she had a baby on the way
“Canciones de un Pájaro sin Pies” En una isla, Un hombre dio a luz tres hermosas aves de su cabeza. Triste y muriendo él les dijo esto: Eres hijos de una madre inmigrante, hijas de agonía.
He moved here for people like me From an old place called Italy But never lost sight of his family And wanted them to see what he had He didn’t want them to be sad He had a son Only one
The stray winds from a far-off place Gather round over a still pool And here the surface breaks. (The mirror is briefly smudged And the face is now clouded. The ripples clear; a new face smiles.
grandmama, tell me.
I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation. We cannot walk alone.
Pursuit to gratification rises all the time. Subconscious mind always over me, Saying no-no go on until the thirst is quenched... My patience bursts unhappy when not met fulfillment,
Ain't given a chance For romance With education Ain't worth living Without giving To this nation That doesn't want No talk About immigration Especially those without legality
Another iron python hisses Billows unnatural poisons into the air Burns passed scarred jungle Monotonous percussion strikes old Indian lands Cyclope eye staring passed souls too insignificant
“This is the way the world endsThis is the way the world endsThis is the way the world endsNot with a bang but a whimper” T.S. Eliot – Hollow Men
We dream about anything to absolutely everything. It's time now this new idea of a new millennium, centenium Coming only every few years or so. Don't think you're delirious because I'm being serious.
Will you choose to see the 57,000 children fleeing on bare feet hopeful of the American dream?
What is happening to our country? A false image of justice, freedom, and democracy How can we be any better than Russia, China, or even slavery? Racism, Hatred, manipulation It's all still there
He is a Latino Boy
A country for the free, it was supposed to be To be unique and new, equality to all With innocence upheld, Lady Justice was blind New labor laws intact, kept the people alive
Violence, much happens to people who keep silence Oppression led the oppress to depression One gun can kill many sons Teenage girls are confused, all bruised
My dream job is not anything out of the ordinary. I don't want fame, nor attention. I just want to help people. The dream job that I achieve is being a doctor.
My name is Tecun Uman I am a legend An ancestor Carried as a sacred bundle A spirit A memory By my burned and burdened children But my progeny starve They feed off my spirit
They took me by the hand to the Land of Dreams, I was young and naive, all I knew was that everyone said everything was better in the U S of A. The years quickly passed by, years where everything was fine, everything was good.
Its sad how those with all the economic resources are born into the glamorous life of a rich education. They might not want it but yet again, they might. I know I want it but I wasn't born white. I wasn't born into that life.
The sun beats down Hot on her pale neck As she pauses and brushes away A single droplet of sweat Not a cloud to be seen Nor a breeze to be felt As she adjusts her sleeves And tightens her belt
Aren’t laws and regulations supposed to be great for our country? Well, I am a clear example that this is not true The government thinks that separating a family because of immigration issues is ok
A never ending line of bills Needing to be paid at the end of the month Debt is in the trash bin. Poverty is as stifling as the Miami heat on a Summer's day. How can I make it? How can I go on?
Someone start the countdown to the breakdown of my people,
Life is full of twist and turns Sometimes you'll be sad Sometimes it'll burn It'll be good and bad Don't think your alone I'll be there every step of the way So change your tone
I see my country's flag Snapping and unfurling above my head In the light summer breeze And I wonder, What do people across the globe feel When they see their flag flying high? Many are proud no doubt
My Solitude Puts me in a mood
Oppression... Suffering, Corruption Reaping, Gaining, Destroying. Shameful, Abominable. Authority, Truth. Justice...
Immigrants shipped into the American Dream plundered of their culture left as empty shells crushed by greedy hands tossed into melting pots molded back into shells carrying America within.
February 5th 2009…6am Daddy? Daddy where are you? Dad?! The house moaned and whimpers echoed throughout the walls.
Ten years on this side Two kids and a long-term partner. He speaks the language and follows the laws, But he is second class Because he lacks legal status.
Momma says, "Education comes first." Momma advises, "Do not marry for love, marry for money." Momma scolds, "When I was your age, I was herding cattle" Momma yells, "How dare you complain, when I have given you all this?"
Because my mother was an immigrant, and young, and single, I've been written off. They say I am most likely to drop out of school and become pregnant out of high school like my mother.
I have been told To walk a mile in somebody else’s shoes If you want to understand anyone better So I wanted to know my mother, and father too Only to realize from the start-they had no shoes
"Is it worth it?" ...You ask, "Wasting your time, Is it worth it?" And my first reaction is to laugh
Jose had a dream that he would be an educated man Jose had a dream that he would live better than his parents Jose had a dream that he would give back to his parents
Waiting for the Dreamer on the sidelines To make their move
Getting on that airplane must have been hard.The entire family is on one continent, and they left it.
If there was one thing I could change, There’s no doubt it would be To keep my parents here with me. And no, they haven’t died. You can’t bring back the dead. And no, not arrested,
I live in the dark,
They swallowed tears before I came to Angel Island, their America stained by the leaking blood of those who stilled their writhing flesh with a hanging noose
A memory was triggered today.
She leaped from the dirt covered alleys To the asphalt paved roadways Leaving behind her A distant memory of poverty And entering A world of opportunity It was a long and grueling 8 years
Once, a boy goaded on by his friends yelled “BORDERHOPPER” in my face. (I must have a very large stride, then, to have hopped the Pacific Ocean.) To be fair, it was middle school.
The sun, up high warm breeze. humid. take me away. snap. flew out, new place cool foggy nights. looked back, people anew. no one knew. i cried too.
She smiles every time she's with her family In the country where dreams come true Or where they're suppose to Yet her parents dreams haven't come since they're arrived here in the USA
a bottle of water broken upon desert sand begins silent night
When he asked si celebro Christmas, I responded with a yes and a question. "We don't do much no gifts no commercialism not much at all because there is
We huddled together over something clear, without a yolk: egg whites squeezed so tightly into their rubber pin, we mistook them for mirrors.
They tell my people to go back to their country as if our nation's origin didn't come from immigrants.
“Lucky” One day at school hands shot up across the room, for show and tell. Lailah went to Disney world. She had her mouse ear cap on and pictures glued to a piece
They call me a dreamer,
I have stopped counting the number of days when I feel unable to do anything But sit on my bedroom’s carpet and allow my fingernails to create moon-shaped marks on my skin.
Dear Mr. American History: Your tie: red white and blue, representing the noose of oppression you pledge yourself to.
How different the city lights look
Violating laws Upsetting age-old customs Freedom calls Tyrants shake with rage Demanding death or capture A life in exile But we must prosper This for our children’s children
All I see is violence All I hear are lies All I want is happinness All I get is hatred Untames and Untainted They hate me And at times I hate them All I want is a chance
She stands there Day and Night. Never waivering Never backing down The rivers water lapping at the Island edges. Stars twinkling behind her high Crown. Face forward
Repeated kindergarden No big deal Older than my peers Okay Can't drive Can't work Why? Blame them all My parents included Deffered action My blessing Paid twice
By: Saranda R Our flag waves in the ocean of pride that envelopes this country With its economic strides and setbacks that we criticize Adding to the problem, not developing a solution
You looked into my ten-year-old eyes And taught me my first lesson in the life of minority Judged not by who I am But where I come from You stained my education, that day
Coming to America To the land of opportunity With no visa, no green card guarantee No papers I say I went to school Elementary, Middle & High In time for when, College came around
"Hidden Identity" by Valierose Bulosan I am from the East and now I'm at the West Searching for the best, not wanting to be like the rest
He wakes up in the morning, the sun is painting the horizon with its rays. He sits at the table, yawning, because it's getting harder to sleep these days. Breakfast is huevos rancheros,
It’s kinda funny sometimes When I’m chatting online with my friends Ranting about the immigrant child life Trying to make my case to those who don’t understand Funny because all my messages Come out
When I left my birth country Cuba, I swore to myself never to look back. I was a child of four and yet I learned two valuable lessons that night that I left Cuba, One: Parents lie, For I was not going to the beach,
Just dust I am, but God did mold my soul I saw the light but I was born in war My place of birth, no food it bore only war The crops did die; the men did die and die My mom did flee, my dad as well and I.
We travel across the ancient land along emptiness and desert sand Searching for riches and for gold From stories our ancestors told Travelers since the day of birth in search for gems of the earth
I write for the ones Who cannot speak for themselves For they are not given voices But left dusty on the shelves They make our country stand In a spot so unreachably tough Yet as hard as they try
They've enjoyed our waiting They've indulged in lies They've prolonged discussions They've listened to our cries I've lurked in the shadows too long
They came for freedom A better life for their kids Life is a virtue
i hear the world screaming, the sickening wails i hear; those of the hopeless—each of them a separate and eerie tune the homeless shouting his, humble and strong as he walks through cold and empty streets
On a mid day in April, you have made a decision, A decision to leave your country for my education. Tearful goodbyes and hopefully minds, Soon to be shaken by the terrible kinds Of difficulties and obstacles
Here I am, Finally!, A second before I take that step, I reflect, My eyes perceive multiple worlds, They form into questions, Like "Will I succeed from this step?",
The American Dream Isn't that what we're all looking for?
Calluses riddle his palms that were tender once Marks of the weary Marks of the worried Bags under his eyes darken already dark skin Traces of the teary Traces of the tired
We will never again label people like animals they said We will never again let a government kill millions they said But what about the immigrants I say
What. Is America? Is it the juxtaposition of pink toned flesh against deep caramel skin? Is it the way his tresses twist and turn whilst her strands lay straight and silky?
Every morning Dad comes home Exhausted and shattered by his work The money wouldn’t be asked more. Fumblingly his hands in the kitchen Quick cooking for breakfast as dinner, Quick eating but no one asking for.
Our intentions are to find a better Life. We come to this country to work that's all. When we get here we are treated like bad people We aren't given a chance to explain.
This injustice, it isn't right. We are all human, but they all wanna fight. Aren't we all the same? Isn't the same color blood running through our veins.
i am me old, frigid..some days young.. prisoned and free. Greyed vision for me A tanned skinned for you For this is all you see.
-With “New Colossus” (1883) – Emma Lazarus- “Give me your tired, Your poor, Your huddled masses, Yearning to breathe free…”
you make me stutter in every language I have
How naive are we to believe that the civil rights movement is over? Is it because we can all vote for our presidents? Because no black man has to fear a master, running away from the screams?
How many times will the wind keep blowing? How much further do we have to go? Better off finding a way out, never knowing how much time we have lost here.
No one had strength or courage. Walking on in the oven like desert. Living with fear frighten by the thought of getting caught. I have just one question to ask. Was it worth the sacrifice?
Last night, in my slumber, I had a dream It was an American one, one of exceptional encouragement And oh the intricacy of this grand scheme So grand, the world knew it was nowhere near forspent
This is when your jaw drops, You've finally seen the agony of a man that serves another for scraps, Builds a family from the ground up and still can't see the light, Que tienen miedo de la soga y de morir