What's Like to Be An African Immigrant
What is like to be an African immigrant?
Before I come to school I put on a mask
A mask where I blend in as a typical American child
As I enter my class room as age 5
It was something new for me
I came in with a huge smile on my face
The one you see on Mickey Mouse
As I enter the class room
I notice my skin didn’t match
As I was walking to my seat
A bullet hit me went through my ear and digested in my system
Go back where you came from you don’t belong here
As those bullets of animosity hit my heart and soul
I felt a briny tear drop trickled down my face
Came dinky then speeded up like rainfalls
As I ran out the class room
Thoughts began to trek though my head
What did he mean by go back where you come from
I didn’t belong?
As I finally gather up he courage to enter back into the class
All I could do was wish for that day to end
When I went hope I stared deep into the mirror
I began to try to change the parts that was unacceptable about me
I tried to adjust my nose
Reduce my lips
Bleach my skin
Develop beauty
Try to be perfect as they say
But translate perfect in society terms
Keep pressing me to keep my culture strong
Don’t fall into these naïve American rules
This is just a little of what its like to be an African immigrant
At a tender age of 5
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