you won’t have to grow up in a tiny house with not enough rooms for the 10 of us — a home that becomes empty once the adults leave for work. you won’t have to grow up being cared for by only grandma. you won’t have to grow up worrying — worrying that something quick and tragic might happen to grandma or grandpa and only you, a 10 year old is home. you won’t have to be afraid of strangers at the door, you won’t have to rush to the phone that your grandma picked up and can’t understand — he is speaking english.
you won’t have to translate government documents for us. you won’t have to fight for the tv because nickelodeon doesn’t have chinese subtitles. you won’t have to learn two very different languages at once — trying to figure out which one is easier. you won’t have to juggle being of two kinds, you won’t get disappointment for not knowing your culture, for wanting mcdonald’s tonight instead of cá kho tộ over rice.
you won’t have to hitch rides to and from school from strangers. you won’t have to figure out which classes to take by yourself, you won’t have to go to parent-student nights alone to get precious feedback. you won’t need to pick out the best books to improve your grammar, to satisfy your hunger for math at the local library. you won’t have to decipher long tedious financial aid agreements by yourself. you won’t have to reach out to friends’ parents to read your personal statements.
you won’t have to learn everything about love and relationships through rom-coms. you won’t have to navigate social situations with things you only learned from stories, shows, talks. you won’t have to dig and walk blindly — the meaning of life and the works of God.
you won’t have to figure it all out by yourself — because I’ll be here, and I’ve been through it all.
