I am the child of an immigrant mother

I am the child of an immigrant mother.

I am the child of the woman who took a great risk and gamble to ensure I'd have the best chance in life.

I am the child taken to start a new life, full of opportunities.

I am the child barely old enough to remember where they came from but never let to forget.

I am the child reminded of the values of my family, taught about the history of my ancestors, raised to never forget the struggles others faced for me.

I am the child who yet innocent faced the judgement of those who deemed me guilty of something, deemed me guilty of being the wrong colour, deemed me guilty of having a different culture, as if it were a crime.

I am the child of an immigrant mother who refused to give up, who refused to give in, who refused to admit defeat.

I'm the child of an immigrant mother who had a goal, a goal that she held on to not only for herself but for her children.

I am the child of an immigrant mother who worked hard, worked hard to get us out of the ghettos they placed us, worked hard to raise us above the poverty line drawn by the powers that be.

I am the child of an immigrant mother who never forgot her roots, who extended a hand to other immigrant mothers, who never settled, who got educated and bettered herself to better her conditions.

I am the child of an immigrant mother who's sacrifices ensured my future.

I am the child of an immigrant mother who will never crave superficial acceptance, who no matter how much others may seek for her to be an outsider, will assert her position and will not waver.

I am the child of an immigrant mother, proud and strong.