When we decided to immigrate to the US from Iran, I thought I was ready to face any possible hard times ahead—but there was still so much I had to learn about living.
Chineseness became a part of my heritage I could name but didn’t really understand.
As someone with over ten years in the industry, I still make $4.95/hour—plus tips.
When I walk the dog or run errands, I pay attention to the trees around me. It roots me in the now.
As a person who spends a lot of her time reading, writing, and teaching about endangered creatures and environments, I craved something hopeful.
When this pandemic is over, we hope to reopen our doors and offer comfort and sanctuary to our communities—as women of color so often have.
My parents wanted to give me opportunities that they never had, to let me participate in bizarre American rites of passage.
The contours of a border become a lot less rigid when you carry what are deemed to be the right documents.
We think of explorers in terms of what they discovered—the Eureka moment, not the search. The search is imperfect and frustrating and owes you nothing.
Like much of Florida, it appears both ridiculous and dangerous and gambling is involved. I think. I still don’t understand it.