it takes a lot of courage 

to come to a country you’re not prepared for 

for a future you’re not certain of

for the children you haven’t met yet 

for the american dream people like you are not promised 

leaving behind 

family 

friends

security

that place you called home for thirty years 

but my mother has that courage.  

she walked confidently through the airline gates 

lit in the red glow of the “non-citizen” sign

green card glowing like hope in her hand 

with broken english

but an unbroken spirit 

and here she  

made a living

made a family

made a sacrifice 

for us. 

instead of saying 我爱你 (translation: “i-love-you”)

my mother offers me food from her own plate without me asking  

she’ll stand to feel a little hungry

to ensure her children are full 

instead of saying 我爱你

my mother loses night after night of sleep to make enough money 

so we can afford to live in this town where very few people look like us 

but at least my brother and i can go to college 

instead of saying 我爱你

my mother offers a plate of oranges

sliced in the form of an apology, 

minutes after shouted words and slamming doors 

instead of saying 我爱你

my mother puts me in chinese school 

and piano lessons

and english tutoring 

because she knows best 

from years of being the only non-native English speaker in the room

that we have to work twice as hard

to get half as much

and she wants me to have all that she couldn’t.

i often wonder

who my mother would be

if she hadn’t made the sacrifices that have defined me 

like pieces of herself she carved out 

voluntarily

joyously, even 

so she could mold them into 

a life i could thrive in 

maybe she would still be home 

where the headlines she was reading wouldn’t be 

“Asian man lies bleeding on NYC streets, ignored by passerby because of coronavirus fears”

“Asian family in Texas stabbed, confirmed as racially motivated crime” 

“6 Asian women killed in Atlanta shooting, the gunman was having ‘a bad day” 

where her childrens’ classmates aren’t making jokes about having COVID -19 in february 2020 

because who cares if people are dying

oceans away 

in a country america has vilified well 

that same month, her aunt passed away 

oceans away 

a person america may as well have vilified too  

maybe she would still be home

where her husband wouldn’t have to drive half an hour 

to get to the nearest grocery store that sells familiar food

and lunar new year can be celebrated loudly on the streets

instead of confined to the commodified celebrations of chinatowns

or quietly observed at home

one shared meal around a table 

is all she gets 

if you set fireworks off on july 4th in westfield

you get cheers and hollers 

if you set fireworks off on february 4th in westfield

you get a noise complaint

maybe she would still be home

where the language can roll of her tongue like well-churned butter

instead of the words sticking like syrup to the walls of her throat 

where she understands every joke and can laugh along 

where she is not robbed of her voice 

where she wouldn’t have to rely on her ten-year-old daughter to write business emails

maybe she would still be home

where there is no language barrier 

that leaves mother and daughter

standing on opposite sides of a precipice 

a great canyon of words they wish to say in between 

but mother cannot understand the rhythm of daughter’s english

and daughter cannot understand the melody of mother’s tongue 

their mother tongue 

so they both stay silent 

even still

i think if i read my mother this poem

she would understand what i am trying to convey 

i love you 

我爱你

thank you for everything 

谢谢你为我做的一切