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Had we done the right thing, coming here? Of course, I knew the answer. We had done what we had to do. We had done what the doctors told us.
We tried to give it time, but three years later we made the decision to leave. We never felt safe there again. We felt as if our home had been stolen from us.
Sometimes I think I would rather just remember it in my head, all those streets and places I loved.
They needed to believe they’d done the right thing and that it made sense. They were torn between wanting to look back and wanting to exist absolutely in the new life they’d created.
my dad never wanted to take time off from his job. He probably could’ve asked for a few days of vacation time, but even after years of being there, making omelets and flipping pancakes, he knew—we all knew—that he was on the low end of the food chain. He could be replaced in a heartbeat.
Americans can handle one person from anywhere. They had Desi Arnaz from Cuba. And Tin Tan from México. And Rita Moreno from Puerto Rico. But as soon as there are too many of us, they throw up their hands. No, no, no! We were only just curious. We are not actually interested in you people.
when I glanced at the people around us, no one was even looking in our direction, and I felt the way I often felt in this country—simultaneously conspicuous and invisible, like an oddity whom everyone noticed but chose to ignore.
“We’re not like the rest of them,” I went on. “The ones they talk about.” He unclasped his hands and looked at me, his expression sad and weary. “We are now,”
We’re the unknown Americans, the ones no one even wants to know, because they’ve been told they’re supposed to be scared of us
People do what they have to in this life. We try to get from one end of it to the other with dignity and with honor. We do the best we can.
