What was America Deconstructed doing?

As the world was going through major changes- Donald Trump becoming the President of the United States of America and immigrants and refugees were being cornered, America Deconstructed has been trying to get published. When we began this little project our motive was simple- we were not trying to change the world, we were hoping to show a glimpse into the immigrant world- our world. We wanted people to know the intricate details of being an immigrant beyond visa stamps, the sacrifice, the humor, trials and ultimately tribulations. Did we want you to sympathize with them? Absolutely not! We just wanted you to join us on this little ride called immigrant life.

The last few months changed the focus of our book. We went from writing a book for entertainment to realizing this book had to be published now. We realized America Deconstructed could show immigrants in a positive light beyond the laws and policies. We started a crowdfunding campaign to gather pre-orders so publishers can be interested in our little project. We have been told to self publish and we could use Amazon to do it easily. We want this book to be published and receive the attention it deserves. Please click on the link below and pre-order this book.

https://publishizer.com/america-deconstructed/

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

America and home

I often catch myself referring to India as home in spite of living in America for over fifteen years. In the fifteen years I have lived in America, I have visited India twice which in total amounts for probably a little over a month of the entire duration. As immigrants in a foreign country, beyond the legalities and the paperwork the hardest aspect is feeling at home in the place you immigrant to. Home is often a security blanket for most people on good days and especially bad days. It’s knowing you have family who will hold you and see you through the bad. I was fortunate to have immigrated to America with family. I have encountered several 20-21 year olds in college who immigrated alone and often miss the comforts of that security blanket. As immigrants, forging a sense of being home in a new country is often the hardest task. In spite of having family with me, India has continued to be my home. It is the inexplicable that makes India home for me. It is friends who don’t need words to sense how you feel, family and sense of belonging that makes India home for me.

As the holidays are upon us and we celebrate it with friends and family, I am especially thankful for the family and friends I made in America who make it almost home.

My Hijab was pulled from behind- my first few years in America!

I am an Afghan immigrant in America. When I started high school in America I could barely speak English. There was an Mexican guy in my class who used to tease me a lot. He didn’t like me for some reason. I would complain to the teacher but she couldn’t stop him either. One time I remember I had my hair down and he put some stuff in my hair ( I can’t remember what it was but that stuff was all over my hair. My hair was long and reached my waist). None of the students that were sitting behind me, including the fellow Afghan guy who was sitting behind me, let me know about it. The class finished and my friend who was sitting in front me noticed it. In another instance, he was standing next to this fake blonde beautiful girl and when I passed them and he said “Hi ugly”. I replied back “Hi Puto”. One of the Mexican guys I know taught me Puto which means ugly. So I wanted to tell this jerk Mexican that he’s ugly. But it actually means “fucking”. When I said Hi Puto, he got shocked and turned red and the fake blonde girl was dying of laughter ( she was Mexican too). But that however didn’t stop him from teasing me. After two years in high school, I started wearing a hijab. One day I was talking to my teacher when someone pulled my scarf down from the back. I got so mad and turned around to see who pulled my scarf. The minute I turned around he turned around so I was facing his back. And I slapped him so HARD on his back that he almost fell on the ground. He was scared to even look at me from that day on.

beautiful-eyes-in-hijab-wallpapers
Photo credit: hdwallpaperbackgrounds.net

The day the immigrant world changed in America!

I am a software engineer from India. One day I was working in Chennai and the next minute I was standing in front of the US Consulate in Chennai to get my visa for United States of America. I came here late 2000 and in 2001 when my family immigrated to America. We came here as a family a month before the September 11th attacks on New York. I remember that morning my friend called me and asked me to turn on the TV. Initially I thought it was a scene from a movie but when the reality of what was going on struck me, I knew the days ahead for us as immigrants in America were going to be hard. I am from South India (the non turban wearing crowd) and with a last name Mathew, I did not have to deal with any racism. One incident that always stands out happened when one my co workers brought her daughter to work. The little girl was 6-7 years old. She looked at me and said, mommy is he a terrorist. I have a sense of humor so it did not bother me. It was interesting to see how little children associated the bearded, tan look to terrorists.

From Ghana to America

I am from Ghana, Africa. I lived in Ghana until early 1990’s. Growing up in Ghana was fun but every body and their mamma wanted to come to America. I was no different. I wanted to come here too. I came here initially in 1987 to New Jersey and then we moved here permanently in 1990’s. When we first came here, I was forced to wear a suit for the entire flight ride. It was hot on a long flight ride. I went to school here and was dropped off at school in ninth grade. In Ghana, we had uniforms and there were rules such as no talking even if the teacher wasn’t in class. When the teacher leaves they make someone write down the names of students who talked. My first day in school in America I thought I was going to get beat up because everyone talked in class. I tried to warn them but the kids in my class looked at me crazy. I got teased a lot in school for my accent. When I first came here kids told me you are so dark. In spite of growing up in Ghana, there was a range of skin color and we never thought about it. I was often asked, why did you speak like that. Why don’t you say What’s up? I started saying What’s up but it never came out as smooth as it did when kids here said it.

Cultural Differences are universal!

Long before I was an immigrant traveling to America, I was a young kid who moved from one state to another within India because of a personal situation. India is not only a diverse place, it is also a cultural jigsaw puzzle. North and South India are worlds apart not just in cuisine and language, but also in landscape and history. I knew that having been fed with Indian history throughout my schooling. I was moving between two states with South India and I expected the transition to be an easy one. I was moving from Bangalore, Karnataka to Coimbatore, Tamil Nadu. Bangalore was a diverse metropolitan city moving at the speed of light while Coimbatore was a small town. I was going to continue my seventh grade in Coimbatore. I walked into school in my boy cut hair, mini skirt and top. My attire was completely acceptable in Bangalore but walking into my school campus in Coimbatore, I knew instantly I was dressed inappropriately. This was my first experience with cultural difference. Cultural difference followed me through my four and half years in Tamil Nadu. Everything from the twinge in my English to my short hair was heavily gossiped on. In an all girls Catholic school, I became the latest attraction. In a campus full of long haired girls, I stood out like a sore thumb. The initial years were extremely hard as I tried to retreat into a shell. I refused to participate in activities I used to enjoy prior to the move, and hated being the new girl on campus. With time the novelty of the new short haired girl wore out and I became one among the girls.