Status Updates From Brown Girls

Never […] would we have the courage to move to a foreign country on a dream, become fluent in a strange language, raise families on foreign soil far from those we love. Raise children who often feel like reflections in foggy mirrors. Who, from the moment they learn to walk, are running farther than they can see.
Resilient, strong, determined, our mothers carved out homes of their own. This, too, is in our blood.

Our mother tongues, if we were taught them at all, become atrophied muscles, half-remembered melodies. Our parents, who don't care for capital A Art, or the pursuit of beauty, or so we believe, say, We don't understand, slow down, can you explain it again? when they ask about our days. And when we see the confusion clouding their eyes, we feel powerful. Reckless. Mean.