Struggles of a First Generation Immigrant

The Weight I carry

I am chaotic and exotic,

society, anxiety,

the fear of failing, drilled deep in my soul.

Muscles grow with,

Time under tension,

Divine intervention,

yet I atrophy.

My ancestors toil,

has brought me this soil,

I grew in this earth,

a foreign crop.

Not of demand,

in this economy,

my exhausted dichotomy,

whom else do I need to please.

Told me to climb, but gave me no rope,

Left me to struggle on fragments of hope.

my rage burns quiet,

this heart seeks riot,

I will be the fuel,

that feeds a better world.

By Jonathan Lalljee

What are the Struggles of Being 1st Generation?

“Life in general has never been even close to fair, which is why personal responsibility is such an important thing.” - Thomas Sowell

Fairness isn’t guaranteed, and expecting it has led me to frustration.

An adjustment to the approach I have to life:

Life is like a stream

We spend most of our lives trying to get as much out of the stream as we can.

It’s towards the end that we realize that it isn’t about what we take out of the river, but what we put back in.

Like many others, I struggle with my identity.

But there isn’t anyone else in this world I’d rather be.