Monday morning. The day is young. Yesterday, I saw my first magnolia flower. I love spring here. Dogs. Coffee cups. Sneakers. All are around. Love is in the air. Hi, Flatiron. Wave to the Empire State Building. Wink to the Chrysler. And go right toward Central Park. Easy days and a light heart. Ah, spring, …
Tag: Andrew Romay New Immigrant Center
A Not-So-Virtual Image
I looked in the mirror, but somebody else was looking back at me. This person was masked, but I could see her long hair, or maybe it was a man wearing a wig. I turned around, but there was no one there. I turned around again to look in the mirror, and again I saw …
I’m Sorry, English Is Not My First Language
I looked up “equivocarse” in the dictionary
because I make so many mistakes
in this city, in this language,
that I want to be sure how to err correctly.
Choices
I have a habit of watching people. I can’t decide if I consider it a bad one. I’d rather call it curiosity.
The other day, I was on the subway, sitting across from a family. They were a couple who had a stroller with a wonderful boy. I could tell from what I saw that this boy was very interested in the people around him. He was smiling at everyone.
My Dad Wanted to See Me Happy
My father was my best friend through my whole life. We had a tradition of sharing dinner and wine every Friday or Saturday from the time I was 13. We kept this tradition until he passed away.
“You, You Alone Will Have Stars as No One Else Has Them”
This work was written in response to a story about a young, undocumented squash player who took on all the challenges in an elitist sport. She had a coach who inspired her to keep trying, and in the end, she became an international athlete.
Perseverance and Quitting
My mother always says, “The ones who persevere until the end will triumph.”
But what does she mean by that?
Does that mean putting up with anything that we don’t want?
Waiting patiently for the miracle that changes everything?
Sometimes we need to quit in order to persevere.
The Light Is On at Home
When I finished my last class, it was 9:30 p.m. I walked down to the bus stop and waited for the bus. Thirty minutes later, the bus came. Luckily, I caught the last train before 11:00 p.m. and got home at midnight. I took out my key and opened the door. The light was off, the stove was cold.
Farewell and Welcome
Over a year ago, I was forced to make the most radical, painful, and transcendental decision of my life. I had to abandon the place I used to call home. I could bring with me only three suitcases, leaving behind almost everything I owned. I must say that, ironically—in my overwhelming emotional process— this epiphanic exercise was particularly healing and liberating. I realized that we place high value on material things, forgetting what really matters in life, and that was just what I could not pack up in my luggage: my family, my friends, and my home.