Snow Year
by
Jonathan Ramirez
Jonathan Ramirez is a writer, visual artist, and collector of sounds. His previous work has been featured in Sims Library of Poetry, as well as various college campus magazines, including Harvard’s Palabritas and Tufts’ Somos Zine. In his free time, Ramirez can be found going on walks with his earphones on blasting pop music.
Cover art by Jonathan Ramirez
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from Snow Year
Imposter
Being first generation means I am alone in this.
It means no matter how much they try, my parents will never understand. And it's not their fault -- I don’t think,
but sometimes the situation gets tough and the blame has to fall on someone. And that someone just happens to want the best for me,
so they’ll take whatever I have to give.
It means I will never quite understand the jargon
used by professionals because who do I ask what it means,
without getting a dirty look or an answer with a tone of why don’t you know?
And, sooner or later, I will begin to think I don’t belong here.
They’ve given it a name. A condition that makes you believe
the only thing you carry is luck, and not the hard work you’ve put in.
And despite the years it took to get here, doubt will creep in
and settle within your insides, eating every inch of your self-worth.
It means that though I’ve never wished it,
I’ve wondered what it would be like to have different parents.
Ones who spoke the language of the future, whose career was
more than being a father, and whose hands served for more
than a prayer. I’ve wondered what it would be like to have parents
who knew how to pay their overdue bills, who worried
about their vacation home, their flights overseas,
what clothes to wear for different occasions,
what to get every family member for Christmas.
But instead I translate their mail for them and wish them
a merry Christmas with a hug and smile that promises I’ll be back home
next year again.
Like I always am.
Like we’ve always done.
