Source http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/tinybuddha/~3/Iknnl52nd7Q/
My parents often spoke about coming to America from Nigeria with one portmanteau.
I imagine that their suitcase was filled with their hopes, dreams, and expectations, and in many ways, I feel like I was metaphorically handed this suitcase of desires and things the day I was born. It would now be my load to carry and make sense of.
But when I opened that portmanteau, I realized that the clothes didn’t quite fit, and there were notebooks full of expectations I would never meet.
Although I had a reverence for this great object and the hands that had passed this legacy to me, I wasn’t sure if I could carry all that was in it.
I think this is the dilemma of any child in a household filled with hope and expectation, and specifically for the immigrant child, it is often one of the defining …
Source http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/tinybuddha/~3/Iknnl52nd7Q/
My parents often spoke about coming to America from Nigeria with one portmanteau.
I imagine that their suitcase was filled with their hopes, dreams, and expectations, and in many ways, I feel like I was metaphorically handed this suitcase of desires and things the day I was born. It would now be my load to carry and make sense of.
But when I opened that portmanteau, I realized that the clothes didn’t quite fit, and there were notebooks full of expectations I would never meet.
Although I had a reverence for this great object and the hands that had passed this legacy to me, I wasn’t sure if I could carry all that was in it.
I think this is the dilemma of any child in a household filled with hope and expectation, and specifically for the immigrant child, it is often one of the defining …
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