In my opinion House Hold Saints was a really weird book. In the beginning it was good the story had a little bit mystery, a little humor, and it was interesting but midway into the book it turned boring. It was just not interesting at all there was no scheme no plot. It was like a narrative of some one’s life told in a monotonous tone. I only finished it because I had to but if it was my choice I would not have finished the book. It was a disappointing and depressing book. I would not recommend it to anyone else to read.

when I was a Puerto Rican

The book about Puerto Rico was a very good I haven’t read a book like this for awhile. It was fast paced and engaging. While I was reading about the main character Negi and her fist time in America it reminded me of my first time in America also. I did not know English either so I understood how she felt. People treat you differently when you don’t know how to speak English. Since I related to the character in the book I had a lot of fun reading it. Another thing I liked about this book was that the author did not sugar coat her life. She wrote about her life in a very mature and true manner. She was not embarrassed to write what really happened. Over all I enjoyed this book and I would defiantly recommend it to someone else.

The Dew Breaker

I just want to share my opinion about this book. To be honest in the beginning i wasn't interesting, but by reading every next story this book was taking my attention. I become so exciting about the connections between the characters from different episodes. Until the end of last story The Dew Breaker i couldn't get the main point. Connections in some stories were not as interesting as the Haitian barber's life back home. The first story in the book shows us a little about barber's family, and after author keeps this family aside; like she(author) decided to leave the best piece for desert. I felt myself as a detective who little by little discovers the true about the situation.
I would like to read other books of this author.
I would definetily suggest this book to my friend.

How does it feel to be a problem?

This Moustafa Bayoumi's book had surprised me. Before i've never heard about this situation after September 11 terroristic attacks in the US. This is inappropriate that in the 21st century people are so close-minded, we cant judge a diaspora community according to activities of its minority. Innocent people dont have to be humiliated and offended in order to pay the price for the crime they've never done. Any democracy country required their people to have the same human rights and responsibilities; no humiliation could be done by the race, color,place of birth or religion. We have to be team players to maintain a strong nation.

Otis Payne's quote

In Lone Star, the quote by Otis, “Blood only means what you let it” can hold true for many characters we have read throughout the course. This quote speaks about identity and how we have the choice to create our identity.

In When I Was Puerto Rican, Esmeralda, in the beginning, did not want to be associated with the American culture; instead she held great pride in her “Puertoricanness”. However, as she becomes a part of the American society, she loses this Puertoricanness and adopts an American identity. In Household Saints, Catherine promises to rid the unscientific such as the superstitions embodied in her mother-in-law. Catherine disconnects herself with her Italian identity to move towards an American one because she wanted to raise a child without ignorance and especially without presumed consequences of superstitions. In Joebell and America, Joebell believed “he is seeing too much hell” so he decides America is the right place for him and not Trinidad. He loves and wants what Americans possess: wealth and the freedom to speak their minds. Joebell takes on a false American identity, which at end, reveals that you cannot take what is portrayed in the media accurately. This shows that each character is not chained to their blood but that they are the sole owner for creating their identity.

The Dew Breaker

The Dew Breaker is truly one of the greatest books I've read in a long time. To be honest, I was not fully aware of the Haiti’s governmental corruption before I began reading. Nevertheless, while reading this book, I came to learn about the Haitian Diaspora and how Brooklyn became a link to Haitian identity even though the book did not revolve entirely in Brooklyn. I wanted to point out that the Dew Breaker, Mr. Bienaimé lived and worked in Brooklyn (most likely in an area populated with Haitians).
With this in mind, why then did Mr. Bienaimé choose to stay there? It only occurred to me that maybe his reason was as a way to atone. His fear of someone recognizing may be what he needs in order to pay for his past actions. He probably understands that there will be no real way to atone for the depth of the evil deeds and so, he punishes himself to be in fear for the rest of his life. In living with this fear, Mr. Bienaimé is atoning because there is nothing more frightening than living in fear and having to hid and live a false life.

Subjectivity and Structure

The Dew Breaker is interesting to me, particularly because of the way it exposes the multiple layers of its characters' personalities, relative to the (subjective) opinions of the people around them. Although some of our actions have permanent consequences in our lives and the lives of others, the people we are when we carry these actions out may still be buried or hidden from view as we move away from the past...As such, although Ka has to reconcile the fact that her father did terrible things, remarkably, she was able to live for many years without recognizing even the slightest trace of the violent man he had been prior to living in the US, because his secret was unknown to her. With the structure of her novel, and the slow unpeeling of its layers, Danticat emphasizes this relationship between subjective and objective truths, and how there are various factors which shape and change the way we perceive others. The writing is really great, yes, but there is an extra dimension added simply in the deft way she has structured the story.

The Dew Breaker

This book was pretty good. For some reason I did not think that I would have got into this book, but surprisingly I did. I would definitely recommend this book to anyone else. Even to just read on their spare time. At first I was confused with all of the different story lines and characters but while you continue to read each chapter, they all connect in there own ways. I found that very different and kool. But like I said I definitely enjoyed reading this novel.

Suggested reading: American Born Chinese

For those of you who would be interested (and can find the time), this is a book I really enjoyed. It is a graphic novel titled "American Born Chinese" and the author is Gene Luen Yang. It is a very short read and addresses personal identity. I think it is classified as "young adult".

From Publishers Weekly:

As alienated kids go, Jin Wang is fairly run-of-the-mill: he eats lunch by himself in a corner of the schoolyard, gets picked on by bullies and jocks and develops a sweat-inducing crush on a pretty classmate. And, oh, yes, his parents are from Taiwan. This much-anticipated, affecting story about growing up different is more than just the story of a Chinese-American childhood; it's a fable for every kid born into a body and a life they wished they could escape. The fable is filtered through some very specific cultural icons: the much-beloved Monkey King, a figure familiar to Chinese kids the world over, and a buck-toothed amalgamation of racist stereotypes named Chin-Kee. Jin's hopes and humiliations might be mirrored in Chin-Kee's destructive glee or the Monkey King's struggle to come to terms with himself, but each character's expressions and actions are always perfectly familiar. True to its origin as a Web comic, this story's clear, concise lines and expert coloring are deceptively simple yet expressive. Even when Yang slips in an occasional Chinese ideogram or myth, the sentiments he's depicting need no translation. Yang accomplishes the remarkable feat of practicing what he preaches with this book: accept who you are and you'll already have reached out to others.

Danticat

I haven't read any of her other books before reading The Dew Breaker. But I have to say, this is probable one of the most well written books I've ever read. Danticat is an absolutely incredible author! The way the book was set up portrays brilliance. She tackled a very hard topic, The Hatian Diasapora, and really allowed one to see the wide range of the after effects of the revolution! I really enjoyed reading this book! It was my favorite book this semester!
Did anyone read any other books by Danticat? How would you say they compare to this one? Would you recommend them?
-Rivka Mendlowitz

The Dew Breaker

Well im still a little confused as to what is going on in this book. I dont understand how the stories really tie together fully. I'm loosing sight of all of the different characters I haven't yet read the last chapter and I know we spoke about it briefly in class but i think I might just have to read the book over again in one sitting before the final!

The Drew Breaker

On reading the book, my first impression of Ka'a father was that he was a monster. How could he have done those things to his own people? How could he have looked at women and defiled and defaced their bodies by tying heavy bricks to their breasts, also tying bricks to men testicles? He was such a sadist. Men have been tried years later at the international courts in La Hague for crimes against humanity, he should be one of those who were tried also.
Dany had the opportunity to finish him off while he was sleeping for what he did to his parents in Haiti, but Dany had a heart, he thought maybe he was not the person. He seemed to do something to nearly every character in the book, yet I believed that if they were given the opportunity to kill the person he was presenting himself to be now, they might think twice of taking his life.
Can someone love a monster, it seems possible, because Anne, Ka's mother seemed to love him even though she knew he killed her brother,'the preacher' and it was her brother who marked him for life. I can understand Ka's question to her mother, How could you? She was repulsed by what he told her, so, how could her mother love him and even make a child with him. Can a leopard change its spots? No, but I believed that a person can have a change of heart and that change of heart is what Anne saw in him. He was reaching out to another human for love, as he said that Anne and Ka were his angels. Maybe through them his life was redeemed and the life he was living was a penance for all the wicked things he had done earlier in his life.
As the catholics would say he was going through purgatory, hell in himself, that could be far worst than being imprisoned. This whole aspect of his life, living in America, having a family, a barber shop was just a lie, a make believe by him that if he live a quiet life the things he did in his former life would pass away, but they just stay below the veneer that he had acquire to haunt him while he sleep.

Chesla

The Dew Breaker

Wow. That's all i can really say about this book. The stories were all great. I really enjoyed this book a lot. The last story was the best one but it was the worst. Now i understand why Anne stayed married to ka's father (who's name i can not remember right now). She never really learned the true story of what happened to her stepbrother although she always knew the story he told her about what happened was not entirely true. After finding out all of the horrible things he did to those people i would never have stayed married to him.
What i don't understand is why she put The funeral Singer story in the book when its not really interrelated to any of the other stories, aside from the people being from the same country. I really enjoyed this book. It was one of my favorites to read.

Joebell and America

As promised....

What is "Wappie?" A gambling card game. This is played with the 52 cards in the pack. before betting players have to decide which card they are going to bet on. In this case Joebell decided he will bet on Jack while Ram the other player betted on trey which is three in the pack. As my father said you either know your cards very well or just blind lucky if you can get a repeat of the jack like how Joebell kept on winning. There are only 4 Jacks in the pack, just like there are only 4 threes 'treys' Joebell method of winning is to say that any of the jacks will come out of the pack before any three. Blind luck.
One thing you can say about Trinidadians, they will try a trick on you and will laugh the more if they get through with it. Its just their way. Joebell like any hard worker, down to earth, done care West Indian is a born hustler. They know how to hustle people out of their money, and know how to run a game on them. You have to live in the country to see how it really works. A man could be hustling you on the sidewalks for your money through a quick card game, and as soon a he hears that the police is coming the card game is over and the table is used to sell unsaleable items until the police has passes, that's to tell you how slick 'Trinis'are.
One thing for sure, if Joebell had gotten the okay from the immigration officers to go to America, he would have laugh to see how he tricked the officer and later it would have been a hot topic back in Trinidad how Joebell got to America by posing as someone else and how he tricked the officers in Puerto Rico. Maybe calypsos would have been sung about his trickery, because everything for 'Trinis' can be made into calypsos.

Just a little on Joebell and his trickery and also a little about Trinidadians.

Chesla

The Dew Breaker

I really like the way this book is setup. The characters are all intertwined together, making an interesting plot line. You have to keep your eyes open for the connections. I never expected the ending to end the way it did. It was an interesting twist in the story when we find out that Anne's step brother was her husbands last victim and how the scar came about. I want to believe that their love will always prevail and that he truly is sorry for the torturous punishments he has committed upon others. This novel brings me back to "Household Saints" with the mention of miracles. I believe that Ka is Anne's and her husbands biggest miracle. This was a very interesting book and I would recommend it to others.

I am enjoying Dew Breaker a great deal, it may actually be my favorite of the selections we have read in class. I agree with everyone else when they say that it keeps you interested with each chapter being a different story narrated by a different person. I am not completely finished with the book, but do look forward to completing it and tying all the stories together. When i got the professors email last night about the author Miguel Algarin performing here on Friday i made a mental note to try and catch it. His poem "Latero Story" was another piece we read this semester that i liked very much. If anyone in the class is particularly interested in poetry, especially poems that are recited with great passion, i suggest looking up a poem titled"Dream Warrior" written and recited by New Orleans Reverend Goat Carson. Its a very moving piece about the tragedy that took place when Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans. I had the great pleasure of meeting the Reverend when i was down in New Orleans this October and was blessed enough for him to actually conduct my wedding ceremony and marry my husband and I. You can find the piece on you tube. Hope you guys enjoy it.

The Dew Breaker

I enjoy reading The Dew Breaker, because each chapter has some sort of connection with the others. I think it is interesting how the sequence of each chapter is not in order, so that it kind of confuses us, but makes us think at the same time. For example, the chapters "Book of the Dead" and "The Book of Miracles" should be switched, because in the first chapter, Ka is aware that her father was a prison guard and has committed many horrible crimes. However, in "The Book of Miracles", Ka's mother, Anne, only wishes that she could tell her daughter the truth about what a horrible man her father was in the past. Anne also feels that her husband's transformation is considered a "miracle", but she cannnot tell her daughter, so she decides to tell her other stories about miracles instead. The chapters "Seven" and "Waterchild" should also be switched, because in "Waterchild", Nadine's ex boyfriend is Eric, who is also the husband is "Seven". However, Eric disconnects his phone number once his wife returns home so that he will not get caught cheating with Nadine, but in "Waterchild", Eric's phone is not yet disconnected.

The Dew Breaker

I have finally finished reading this book, and there are many choice adjectives I can use to decribe the horror in this book, however I will simply say it was absolutely horrific. No one who commits such acts against innocent humans should ever be allowed to exist in society. I wrote earlier that the mother's ability to forgive her husband was absurd and that was before I found out the extent to his torture. Could he have really made a 180 so instantaneously, or is it just a matter of him being provoked to a certain point again and then his true character would resurface. I am no expert with the way the mind works or does'nt work, but I am still uncertain about such immediate transformation.

I have tried in vain to place him in any earlier chapters, at first I thought he might have been Romain in Monkey Tails, (the young character, who went off on his own after he did not find his father Regulus, who abandoned him as a child), but I thought better after I read that his parents were robbed of their land, his father had a nervous breakdown and his mother ran off with an earlier love.

The Dew Breaker

I agree with the other post regarding this book; it does not allow you to get bored as each chapter you are reading from another person's perspective and you are constantly trying to discover how and where that character's story falls in this complicated web where everyone is connnected in one way or another. I am not sure how I feel yet about the father. He seems to be truly sorry for all that he did in his past and that made me want to forgive him a little. But I think that was just because we had not heard yet of any of the stories of the people who were killed or affected by who he was. Later on in the chapter "Night Talkers," I began to feel a little differently about the father after hearing one of the stories of what he did and how he killed Dany's parents. I kind of feel like the internal pain he is constantly suffering is punishment and the fact that he let down his daughter who never thought he ever would do things like that are all probably worse pains than being in prison.
It's so true though about how a lot of kids never really know who their parents were before they were parents. Not that a lot of people's parents killed people, but it is just interesting when you grow up and finally hear stories about your parents of the life they had and the people they were before having kids, you almost don't recognize them. I know that has happened to me in the past couple years with my parents and of hearing their stories.

LAZY PEOPLE!

I know this is off the topic but, for some strange reason this caught my attention because I feel that people are becoming more lazier everyday! This is my own opinion... but seriously come on people a luggage cup holder. Why can't you hold you on cup with your own hands!

The Dew Breaker

The first few chapters that I have read so far are intriguing. It was so compelling, I could not predict what was going to happen from one page to another.

It is amazing how the father's character changed from an adorable father to someone who the daughter does not know at all. In an instant he became a total stanger. This should make readers think about the people they are close to. Is anyone really ever who he/she says he is?

It is evident that the father tried to convince himself, that he was allowing the daughter to have a glimpse into his past, to see the true man, by the type of books he had her read as a child.
This was very unusual, it appears as though her was trying to live through the innocence of his daughter and that was the only way he could have survived with the guilt.

I am still dumbfounded as to why the mother after finding out about the heinous crimes that the husband committed, still remained with him and for that reason lived an isolated life. I guess she would declare that it was because of true love. I could not have done that myself. I hesitantly applaud her for her devotion, even though I think she was absurd to be so devoted. He belonged in prison.

Mona in the Promised Land

It is a very sweet, coming-of-age story about a girl who grows up in the New York suburb of Scarshill. This novel does the best job of talking about multiculturalism. It is kind of humorous take on serious questions. Mona was born in America. This book rises a question about how much flexibility do we have to define our own identity. Mona's parents are Chinese, therefore Mona is Chinese. But it is not that simple. She was born in America, she identifies herself as American. At the same time, she demonstrates to her friends in school that she knows karate and Chinese language. In reality she doesn't know any of it, but she wants to be popular and distinct. However, this is not an authentic expression of her true self. She doesn't really know how to speak Mandarin and she has no idea about the karate, she just saw it on TV the same time as her friend Barbara did. Mona lives in Jewish community and she does the same things as the Jewish kids do. She decides to become Jewish. It is kind of strange decision. For example, I love Jewish music. It has such a sweet melodic structure. However, it doesn't mean that because of that I can change and become Jewish. Even though I don't like a lot of things that are related to my own culture, it doesn't mean that I can change my nationality or religion. It is in my blood. I won't be better person if I start telling people that I became Jewish or French, or Native American. My nationality is a part of who I am. It doesn't matter if I like it or not. For me it sounds the same as if somebody says: "I don't like how my aunt (mother, father, sister, brother) talks to me, she has such an unpleasant manner to talk. I want to change her for this nice lady who lives next door. She is so nice and she makes the best pies in the world." Does it sound ridiculous? Oh yes, it does.

Lone Star

Lone Star is the history of Texas and the United States. This film illustrates the diversity and the uneasy interaction of racial groups along the Texas-Mexico border. Texas is unique among the United States in that it was once its own country. It was a republic formed in a controversial and bloody way. And its struggles didn't end with the Civil War. There is a kind of ethnic and racial war that has continued. That continuing conflict comes into the clearest focus around the border between Texas and Mexico. There are several communities that concerned in the movie - Chicano community (Mexican-Americans), Anglo community (Gringo), African-American community, and a few Native Americans. Each group has contributed significantly to the unique border culture.

There are many Latino characters in the film. The two most complex characters are Pilar and her mother, Mercedes. Pilar is intelligent and independent. Her mother is totally assimilated, wealthy woman. She is the most stereotypical character in the film. She drives a luxury car and she also directs traffic in the kitchen of her restaurant. Her wealth is the result of her own labor. Politically and socially, she is the opposite of her daughter. Mercedes is very uncaring to the troubles of lower-class Mexican-Americans. Even thought she was an illegal immigrant herself, she complains that the town is full in wetbacks. She represents a conservative Mexican-American attitude concerning immigration issues.

African-Americans comprise smaller percentage of the town's population and they are carefully drawn characters rather than stereotypes. In one of the scenes, we are introduced to Chet, young man who enters the club, looks around, and slowly reaches his hand into his jacket pocket. In another film, he would probably have drawn a gun, but here he pulls out a barbecue sauce label instead. The movie makers use audience's preconceptions to make subtle points about stereotyping.

The Anglo characters in the film realize that they can no longer control the city economically and politically, because the majority citizens are Mexican-Americans. The main bad character in the movie, Charlie, seems to have no particular political or racial views. He is exercising power over those weaker than himself, and his victims happened to be mostly African-Americans and Mexican-Americans. The town has its share of racists reluctant to accept the Mexican-Americans' rise to power. The Native American character has long before accepted the fact that his people carry no political clouts in the town. He just makes his living by selling souvenirs to white tourists.

The main idea of the movie suggests that in order to live in the present, people must confront the past. It doesn't necessarily mean to accept or reject it. This means to learn from the past whether you like it or not. In Texas that past is often marked by racial conflict and violence. In final line Pilar says that people should start from scratch and history doesn't matter; a border is where you draw a line. She means that if rejecting the past is necessary to function in the present, then it supposes to happen. Since different races are still stuck together in Texas, people might try to get alone.

Mona in the promised land

Something interesting that I found in this book was that the writing style. Like someone had mentioned in class, it is written in the present tense, which is the way Asian languages are spoken. I found it interesting that while it is written in the Asian way, Mona's parents are referred to by their first names, and not as Mr and Mrs. Chang. All of the other parents in the novel are addressed by their last name. This choice that the author makes, seems to be because the parents are also looked at in the American way, as individuals rather than just as someone's parents. It is ironic that they are seen as individuals because for the majority of the book they keep reminding Mona that she is their daughter.

Mona in the Promise Land

The question of whether or not the Chang family is more typically American or Chinise is very complex. I see Samantha's point that Mona's parents are defnitely strongly influenced by their Chinese culture and this makes them more like traditional Chinese parents. However, I also agree that the conflicts between Mona and her parents are present in other cultures, even within the families in this book. For example, Mona and Barbara's mothers are both horrified about the Alfred situation. Although their mothers come from very different cultures, they both take similar drastic measures to punish their daughters for this incident. Although there are drastic differences between these two families, the parents are unwilling to understand what might have been behing their children's decision to help Alfred and automatically go to punishing them. Perhaps these are patterns we see in every family, making it difficult to categorize families as typically American or typically Chinese, or typically anything else. The complexities between child and parent are present in cultures across the board.

Mona in the Promised Land: A quote that I am ashamed of

As I was reading this book, I came upon a quote regarding one of Alfred's friends. "A field n****r, he called himself, even though he was one of the lightest Negroes Charlene did lay eyes on..." I feel like it is a shame that years after slavery, in the 1960s, a lot of African Americans ranked themselves based on where their ancestors woked on the plantations. It is even worst that some people still refer to themselves in that way today! I think once someone said I would have worked in the house in slavery days. If blacks are trying to escape the prejudice and the ostracizing in society, then why would they demote themselves this way? I absolutely hate when my brother and his friends call each other N***a this or N***a that. I strongly believe that we blacks will still refer to ourselves that way in the future, and nothing will change. The way that the African Americans in the book acted then is still the way that a lot of blacks that I know act today, which makes me feel ashamed sometimes.

mona in the promise land

this book is so hilarious!!!!! (great choice professor)... who would think the Japanese took their private life so serious... when Sherman was calling the hot line at the temple just to talk to Mona about the places he's been. i thought it wad so cute the way Mona and Sherman was acting like they didn't know who each other was on the phone...they had a good thing going on until Mona told Barbara who for some odd reason believed its Andy Kaplan (the boy Barbara was in love with in her early years) on the next line. she ended ruining Sherman and Mona relationship when she buts into the conversation and started yelling Andy's name. Sherman resulted into telling Mona once again that "She will never be Japanese!" ladies this is what happens when you go blab to your girlfriends about the guy you really like and your supposedly girfriend ruin your relationship.
i guess i wont ever be a japanes either :-)

Am i the only one who believes that Mona family is a typical American family? Her mother Helen flips over any and everything, her father is always analyzing every details on what is going on. Mona is just a typical confused teen, she is just going through puberty...

Mona in the Promised Land

I thought it was interesting how in this book there is so many "borders" (ha) between different ethnicities and religions being discussed, even amongst groups that many others on the outside view to be similar. First of all the difference between Mona (Chinese) and then the other white kids who are also Jewish. Then there is the Catholic (Mona) and the Jewish religous lines that are being crossed by Mona. But it is funny how everyone groups Sherman and Mona together because they are both Oriental and assume that they will be together because of that, but then even amongst them, Mona who is Chinese and Sherman who is Japanese, there are these lines that Sherman thinks cannot be crossed as he says to Mona more than once, "You will never be Japanese." Even though many of the others think there are no lines to cross between Mona and Sherman because they both are Oriental, even within their races there are differences, and enough differences that makes Sherman say Mona will have to switch and become Japanese at one point early in the book.
Another point in the book which I thought was funny was when Helen was discussing the French coming to China. It was clearly imperialism, which is a serious subject and has caused so many problems in so many parts in the world, but as Helen talks about, she refers to it as not a big deal and saying, "Oh, the missionaries just wanted to teach us some nice songs in French, and to tell us what nice food they eat in France," (42). I thought that was so funny that she was thinking of it in that way. Very different perspective than Negi has in "When I was Puerto Rican" in having to eat American food and their ideas of imperialism in that book.

Mona in the Promised Land

At sixteen years old, Mona decides to become Jewish. At such an impressionable age, how do we know whether she genuinely believes in Judaism or if she's just being influenced by her friends? At one point or another in your adolescence, you must have experienced peer pressure, whether it was straight forward or not. Peer pressure combined with teenage rebellion can lead to some very irrational decisions. Will her decision just be another part of her rebellious adolescent phase or will it carry on throughout her adult life?

Immigrants held after 9/11 get cash settlements

The following Associated Press item was released the day of our class discussion on the article, "How Does It Feel to be a Problem?", by Moustafa Bayoumi. I find it to be oddly serendipitous in light of our debate about constitutional rights during war time.

These cases took seven years to settle. When considering the Inspector General's report which found "significant problems" with the treatment of nearly 800 detainees nationwide, I find it frustrating is that there are only five plaintiffs.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/33608129/ns/us_news-security/



Immigrants held after 9/11 get cash settlements

U.S. settles detention lawsuit by paying five men $1.26 million


updated 6:09 p.m. ET, Tues., Nov . 3, 2009



NEW YORK - Five immigrant men who were detained in roundups in New York and eventually deported following the Sept. 11 attacks have reached a $1.26 million settlement with the U.S. government.

The men were part of a lawsuit against the government over the roundups that put them in federal detention and the abuse they say they suffered while they were there. Two other plaintiffs are still 
part of the lawsuit.


Rachel Meeropol, a lawyer for the Center for Constitutional Rights, which represents the detainees, said she hoped the settlement would serve as a deterrent to prevent similar government practices.

"Our hope is that it will keep the government from rounding up individuals based on religion and ethnicity," she said Tuesday. "My clients were really treated as terrorists based on nothing more than their religion and where they came from.


The center notified the court Monday of the settlement. The Department of Justice did not immediately respond to an e-mail from The Associated Press seeking comment Tuesday.

Ashcroft, others cited
The men were among more than 170 Arab and Muslim men jailed for immigration law violations at the Metropolitan Detention Center in Brooklyn. The suit, filed in 2002, claimed that former Attorney General John Ashcroft, prison personnel, FBI supervisors and other officials violated the men's rights by imprisoning them on the basis of their race and religion.


The men said they were denied access to phones and lawyers for weeks at a time, locked in tiny cells where lights burned all night, kept awake by guards pounding on their doors, put in handcuffs and shackles whenever outside their cells, and beaten at random.


The case was bolstered by a 2003 report by the Justice Department's Office of the Inspector General, which found "significant problems" with the treatment of nearly 800 detainees nationwide, including abusive conditions at the Metropolitan Detention Center.


Reached in Alexandria, Egypt, Yasser Ebrahim said that after seven years, "I just couldn't wait any longer." The settlement, he said, is "an end of one phase of my life and the beginning of a new one. This whole nightmare, we can just let it go."


The lawsuit is currently awaiting a decision from the 2nd U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals on whether key claims should have been dismissed. Meeropol said a request has been made to amend the suit to add five new names to the remaining two plaintiffs.


Ehab Elmaghraby, a detainee who made similar claims in another lawsuit, settled his portion of that case for $300,000. He was held at the center for almost a year, and was deported in 2003 after pleading guilty to credit card fraud.

How Does It Feel To Be A Problem? By Bayoumi

This reading by Bayoumi talks about the many Arabs and Muslims that are living in the United States and how they are treated since September 11, 2001. Since the attacks of 2001, many muslims have been the new "problem" in the United States. This article basically focuses on the many innocent arab muslims who were mistreated judging by thier religion and culture. A fine example was a girl named Rasha. Rasha was an arab muslim who was born in Syria. Rasha and her family moved to the United States through a tourist visa and she was raised here with her other siblings. From the reading, you can see that Rasha as well as her family were innocent people who had been living in Brooklyn for a while and they were picked upon just because they were muslims. Rasha and her family faced many problems as the FBI agents and the INS officials raided thier house. They had to go through many moments where they were mistreated very badly and forced to stay in harsh conditions until problems were resolved. I think that it is the right thing to make sure that the citizens of the United States are safe but it is also the wrong thing to just hold custody of someone who you dont even have proof of. Since the attacks of September 11, I have seen many issues in my life. I am also a muslim and I have also faced some similar problems in my life. I remember everytime I leave this country to visit back home or go to Europe, I am picked upon and called to a room, where I have to wait for hours to be interviewed and then released. I think it is the right thing to make sure that our nation is safe but it is a very harsh thing to pick upon a citizen like me just because I am a muslim. I think that picking on innocent people and putting them through harsh moments in their life wouldn't solve the issues that this nation has, but it would eventually make it worse for the people to live in this world.

Latero Story by Miguel Algarin

The Latero Story is a poem written by Miguel Algarin. It is a very interesting story about a twentieth-century welfare recipient who collects garbage cans in order to survive in America. The most touching part that got to me was that Miguel colleted cans all day no matter if it was day or nite and had to go through so much in order to make money and provide himself with his needs. Sometimes he had to go through garbage which was filled with many diseases and other nasty stuff. The truth was that he was an expert at collecting cans and was considered best at his job. The overall part that I liked the most about this poem was that, Miguel never gave up on his job. He worked almost the entire day collecting cans and kept moving forward to achieve his goals. I think that people who come to America and have the passion to work hard, are the ones who are always successful because once you put your heart into something, it does pay off no matter how long it takes you.

West Side Story

Last week, I went to see the remake of the 1957 classic, West Side Story, on Broadway. For those who may be unfamiliar, it is a Romeo and Juliet tale that takes place in the west side of Manhattan in the 1950s. The entire story revolves around two rival gangs. The Jets are the local "American" kids, and the Sharks are the recently arrived Puerto Rican boys. The Sharks were originally willing to co-exist with the Jets. However, the Jets resented that their fathers had lost jobs to the newly arrived immigrants willing to work for less. Therefore, the Jets would settle for nothing less than a rumble to establish turf domination.

There is a wonderful backstory about the play's development. The original draft was entitled East Side Story. The protagonist Tony, had been Polish then Italian and his love, Maria, was conceived Jewish before becoming Puerto Rican. I would like to tell you that I regularly attend the theater and know all of this information because I am a highly cultured individual. If I did I would be lying. My boyfriend surprised me with the tickets, then proceeded to sing each word of each song along with the cast. I had never seen this "showtune" side of him. During intermission he explained that his father, a Chinese immigrant, played this soundtrack throughout his childhood. Admittedly classic Bernstein and Sondheim, it is apparent that this music and this story speak of American immigration in a quintessentially American way.

An interesting twist in this current production is that now most of the lines spoken by the Puerto Ricans are in spanish. I speak no spanish and was concerned that I would have difficulty following the story. Unlike Esmeralda Santiago's book, there was no translation in the Playbill. So in fact, I may have missed a few lines but the effect of feeling transported into the story far outweighed any lost dialogue. The only time I was aware of my seat was when I remarked on the incredible talent of the cast. If you can't make it to the theater, I recommend renting the movie from 1961. This story is a valuable contribution to my understanding of America.

"Crossing Flatbush Avenue" by Felix Herby Bien- Amen

My name is Felix Herby Bien- Amen it is different just like many other things about me .I am from Haiti and my story starts here, when I went to the airport .There was a storm raging and as a result I could not come to America . My cousins and relatives who came to say good bye to me at the airport were joking America does not want you .You are good here with us. What was supposed to be a sad farewell turned in to one of the best memories of my life .I am so glad there was storm and I got to spent one more night with my family and relatives. I came to America on February seventeenth 2008.This farewell was much more painful and different from the other night .The hug my mom gave me explained everything she did not have to say more .When he was saying this his eyes filled with tears . When I came to the American airport I remembered what my cousins jokes and in the mist of feeling sorrow I smiled at that memory.
I came to America to mainly study so all the stories I heard about money and riches did not affect me nor influence me .My sole purpose of coming to America was education .Before coming to America I thought it would be a place full of rich and clean people who spoke good English .When I use to watch movies and T.V shows it showed beautiful cities filled with tall buildings and modern architecture but when I came here some streets from Haiti looked better than some of the streets of Brooklyn .The buildings in America are cooped up and small in my country houses are bigger more spacious .In America the tall buildings were not as pretty as the ones in the movies .To me the streets and homes of my country have more charm and grace than here . I had a big back yard in Haiti , my house was surrounded by trees of many fruits mangoes ,guava ,nectar and much more .While on the subjects of fruits let me just say they are ten times better than the ones here .The food over there was much more fresh and tastier than the ones here . Or maybe it’s the fact that my mother use to cook it with love.
Another thing I noticed about people in America they just worked and worked trying to make money. They led very busy lives with no time to appreciate the little things in life. Americans just cared for themselves no cousins or uncles or aunts seem very important to them no one helps another relative in need in Haiti everyone in your relatives is counted as your family. We grow up as one big family there are of course ups and downs but the fun is also great. They did not care for parents when they got old I learned what a nursing home was and it applauded. Back home parents were taken care of by their children when they got old not put away in a nursing home. I do not mean to criticize Americans it’s just that it is very different then my culture. I miss my home and culture very greatly.
Enough about home back to America I expected that the school system would be very advanced but the things I learned in junior high back home kids over her were learning in high school this surprised me. Also the kids here were so disrespectful I was shocked in Haiti you were very respectful towards your teacher. In America the students cursed shouted and fought with their teachers. If I have children I will not raise them here I will go back to Haiti and raise them there. I might keep them in America up to the age five but after that I am taking them back to Haiti to raise them, after seeing kids here no way. When I got to college I felt allot better. The kids were much calmer and I was learning stuff at my level. My interest was not in biology or physics these things bored me I wanted to do something I liked. So I decided to go for computer sciences I liked math and computers. I enrolled in KBCC and am proud to say I have a 3.9 average .I also joined the soccer team and played for the college because I use to play soccer back home too. This gave me some comfort and a good way to spend my time .So while studied and played I also worked in school I work in the C.I department of course .I enjoy working in that department it is a great place to work in I would like to graduate and go for a higher position . All this kept me occupied until I got home that’s when I needed something else to do to keep me busy. So I did my second most favorite thing I hung out in my room and played or I should say made beats on my computer .I loved to dance and it gave me a sense of satisfaction to make beats that I could enjoy dancing or listening to .
I liked college life it was tolerable unlike the cold weather here. Which was un bearable the first time I saw snow I thought how beautiful but as soon as I stepped outside I changes my mind .because I came inside with a bruised back side . Before my story goes much longer I have a few more things to share .I have not yet told the things I like about this country one this country has to offer is that if you mess up in life there is always a second chance waiting for you . If you want to make yourself something or become someone America offers that dream to you just have to make it come true. There are many opportunities in America that Haiti does not offer like very good colleges, health care, financial assistance in school and much more. Also in Haiti I would have partied much more than in America but being here I party less and focus more on my studies.
I have responsibilities towards my younger brother who will look up to me for guidance. So if I mess up what will he follow also my mom is spending so much money on me I have to reach my goal and dream for her also .I miss my mom her food her cooking her motherly love . I come home to an empty house and I remember my house filled with so much laughter so much love but then I tell myself it’s not for long. I will go back to Haiti once my goal and dream is complete .One day I see myself as the head chairman of the computer department I work for. I am living in America with allot of responsibilities and it has made grow up and be more mature it has also changed me somewhat characteristically but over all I still long to be home and I will one day for now I am still pursuing my dream.

Crossing Flatbush Avenue by C. H.

Project: Interview with Ms. Norma E. Lovelace.

Today I’m taking a stroll along Church Avenue, East 46th. Street. This is a part of East Flatbush. I’m going to visit and talk with someone who has befriended me since I came to this country.

My interviewee began her story like this. “Many times people talked about coming to America when you are from the “Islands” and that America will solve all your problems, but we have a saying in my home country, “See me and live with me ah two different things.”

I am originally from St. Vincent and the Grenadines, and I have lived in the United States for the past twenty-one years. Most of my family members are living in Florida; only two of my daughters are still living in St. Vincent.

When I came to this country I worked in different homes as a house keeper, then my eldest daughter encouraged me to go back to school and study for the Home Health Aide, after I passed the exam I stopped housekeeping and started to work with an Agency to take care of elderly patients. I did this until I retired in 2006. Now I’m retired, I spend most of my time travelling to Florida where I can be with my children and see my grand children, I also knit, I knit scarves, bedspreads and skirts for my family members and friends.

Every time anyone asks me the question why I came to America, I can only say that I was in search of a better life. I wanted to get away from my abusive husband and being a business person who owned a restaurant, I thought that business was becoming very slow because too many restaurants were being opened. I expected to find a good job in a home when I came here, because I pride myself on being a good cook. I also thought that people would be more helpful and generous.

People from my country who came here before, when they came back home painted a picture of the U.S. people being very accommodating to people who were in need. That was far off by a long margin. My life turned out to be just what I made of it. I learned fast that you have to learn to depend on yourself and don’t look to anyone for help. She then interjected another saying, “God helps those who help themselves.” She said that this was always her motto. Sometimes even my sister will tell me in the early days that she could not see the reason for me to give up my business and house at home and come here to struggle. I told her that life is a struggle and that I was not doing it for myself but for my children so they can have a better life than what I had.

My lifestyle has changed to a certain degree. I’m not that naïve; I don’t take things for granted as I used to do. I ask questions and I’m not afraid to stand up for what I believe. I also don’t trust people as easy like before. Since I live here, sometimes I become very nostalgic about my home country, especially around Christmas time, that was such a lovely time home, with all the family coming together, the Nine Mornings of caroling which is uniquely Vincentian, that’s the time I miss most. I tried not to think of the unhappy times, I’m just thankful to God that he has spared my life to see my grandchildren.

I’m a U.S. citizen. I became a U.S. Citizen because I regard this country as my home now. Becoming a citizen has helped me to get my children here so that they can continue to pursue their education. I see myself as an American; I have the privilege to speak my mind against anything that I deemed unfair. This country has helped me to get away from my husband who was very abusive.

I have never had any problem with immigration since I’m in this country. The only problem was when I went to Barbados to do my processing for U.S. residency, then I was told they could not process me without my husband consent, can you believe that, after all those years, I had filed for divorce, thought I got rid of the man and now I had to get a judge to write an official letter stating that I was divorce because he did not sign the divorce paper. That was a shock to me because I thought that it was over and done with.

I do keep in touch with my two daughters that are home, and every other year I go home and visit with them. My last daughter, she is the Chief Veterinary Surgeon at home, and my other daughter is a teacher. I would like to go back later in my life if it’s God’s Will. To spend my last days just puttering in my garden or sitting on the veranda just listening to the sound of the ocean.

I ended the interview by asking her what kind of advice she gives her children. She smiled and said, “You know these young people, they don’t really like to take advice, but I tell mine to live every day as if it’s their last one, help everyone who come to you for help because you never know it may an angel you are helping, and also go to school and get a good education because that’s the only how you will get out in life.” She also gave me that as my advice.

"Crosssing Flatbush Ave" Rosa D. Herrera

Rosa Delia Herrera is an immigrant from Dominican Republic. She was raised and born in the Santo Domingo, which is the capital. Currently, living in the Bronx. She has 43 years old. She is married and has three children. “I have 25 years living in New York, I miss my country but I do not want to go live there again because life is much easier over here. Life for me was not so easy because instead of going to school I had to take care of my siblings so my parents can go work and provide us with what they can even if it was not much. I was sixteen years old when I first came to this country and it was hard for me because I left my sister and other siblings I grew up with, not only that I fell in love with my husband Pascual David Rodriguez. My father asked me when I came what I wanted to do I said “work so I can bring my future husband.” That was a hard choose for me and I did not want to go to school because I did not even finish school in Dominican Republic. When I found a job in a factory, I was so happy because I wanted to be independent and move out of my house so that way I can bring my future husband. While working in the factory, I earned some money and got my own apartment then, I went back to Santo Domingo to go visit Pascual and my family members. Pascual asked me to marry him and I accepted because I knew in my heart he was the man for me and still to this day Pascual and I are happily married. We have 24 years and still going (gracias a Dios).
“To be honest, life in New York is hard even in Santo Domingo. I feel in Santo Domingo is better because you are not always looking at your watch and do everything fast. The life in NY is fast pace. People are like robots go to work then home or work, school the home, back home is not like that, yes you have to do the same thing but you are more relaxed and have more time to spend with your family. In NY I hardly talk to my children all I do is tell them what I expect and what I do not want them to do. I try my hardest on Saturday’s or Sunday’s to spend time with them but they all have things to do. My oldest daughter goes to college and takes night school so I barely see her, my son is in culinary school and when he gets home he plays basketball and then comes home to eat then sleep and my youngest daughter is a teenager she just wants to be in myspace, texting and being locked in her room. We use to have a family day, but is hard with scheduling. In my house everyone has to speak Spanish unless my children are talking among each other. My children go almost every two years to Santo Domingo to go visit my family. I do not have plans to become a American citizen for what. I am Dominican not American, if the President wants to send me to my country, no problem. Immigrants in the U.S. have a hard time dealing with the language including me because I do not understand much and I prefer not to speak it because I am embarrassed and I have a strong accent. My children make fun of me because instead of saying “Home depot” I say “home pipo, they just laugh and correct me. For me to move back to Santo Domingo I would have to be economically stable because I have worked for many years and is hard to start from scratch. I would have to have a good job or a business so I can maintain myself and my husband even though he works. My children would have to be married and I can retire, but I am not planning on retiring now, I’m to young and capable of doing things for myself still. I hope my children learn from me even though I am a manager at a McDonald’s it took me hard work to get to that position. I do not regret anything not even finishing school because I learn and I tell my children all the time “education is power.”

"Crossing Flatbush Avenue" S.B

I have known S.B for quite a few years. She is my mother’s friend. She has lived in the US for over twenty years, after immigrating at the age of 26. Her choice to live in the U.S came about because of a very personal matter that had to do with a relationship. She chose not to elaborate on any specifics, but the situation must have been extreme to cause her to give up everything and relocate. She is West Indian, and requested that I do not publish the name of her home country. She was reluctant to go through with this, but only chose to after I informed her that she could be completely anonymous.

I came to the America over 20 years ago, with the help of my then best friend. I left my job. I was a bank employee, living on my own and making an income that allowed me to live comfortably. I gave up everything, I don’t know what I expected at that time, but it was a complete disappointment to me when I arrived. I arrived in Brooklyn and stayed with my friend and her family. My first impression when I saw Brooklyn was utter amazement. The buildings were covered with all sorts of graffiti, and they just looked dilapidated. I thought this could not be the America where so many of my friend’s families were now living.

It was very disheartening. I remember at times I would cry all night, because I thought to myself that I didn’t want to be in that situation. It was very frustrating. After I was in the U.S for a few months, I had to look for an apartment of my own, because the apartment was tiny and one more adult was just not ideal. I found a very tiny apartment. I hated doing laundry and I could not believe that everyone, even strangers used the same washing machines to do their laundry. As simple as it may have seemed to others, I missed being able to hang my clothes out to dry in the sun. I remember trying to recall the smell of sun-dried clothes. There were times when I missed home so much, I felt like I was going mad.

To help get me through the days, I used to reminisce about going to work at home, and think about the position I would have held in the organization, had situations been different. I had planned to go back to school in about a year or so and get a degree in business; however, I was unable to do so because I had to constantly work to pay my bills. I eventually went back to school, and got my degree and became a social worker. There really is no one I am in contact with at home, I lost my mother when I was 3 yrs old, and was raised by my grandmother who past away when I was 19 yrs old, so my contact at home is minimal, therefore I have never returned home. I am not a U.S citizen, although I sometimes feel that I am, (as this has been my home for the past twenty years), and then I am reminded that I am not a citizen when there is an election and I’m not eligible to vote. Maybe I should consider becoming a citizen, I’ll think about it. Why not? I could have dual citizenship.

I think my experience, as an immigrant is very similar across the board. There are some who would have identical stories as mine and then there are others whose experiences would be horrific compared to my first experience living in this country.

"Crossing Flatbush Avenue". Kimi

Everybody who migrated to America came here in order to find better life than back in theirs homeland. When you ask people why did they decide to move here you could here: “because streets in the United states made from gold”, or “America is heaven”, or “There is free speech, there is democracy in here”, etc. all these are most common reasons why people are dreaming to come to United States.

I wasn’t exclusion. My name is Kimi. My American dream story started 20 years ago.

In 1989 there was a communism regime in Yugoslavia (Kosovo nowadays). If you don’t know what it means, I would just say that there was no free speech… even by saying something against communism you could get in the jail for as long as 25 years.

We had an extended family. That’s why when my uncles run away to America; we are (family members who left in the country), were discriminated. It was inappropriate to have a traitor in the family.

After living in such conditions I decided to do something to escape from that terror.

Of course, I had a dream to go to America, but according to situation that time I decided to try something closer... my choice came to Germany.

That’s how I left Kosovo in 1989.

I was a good engineer – contractor, that’s why it wasn’t a problem for me to find a job. I work for one German guy Ditor, he likes me for being hard worker and honest. He treated me like a son.

While living in Germany for 5 years I got a passport. Of course not without Ditor’s help. That’s how I got one step closer to reach my goal to come to America.

Now door for America were open for me!

One winter day in 1994 I arrived in the Chicago International Airport.

YOU ARE INTERESTING WHAT WAS MY FIRST EXPRESSIONS ABOUT AMERICA?

Shock! Upset! And this is place I was dreaming about? This is for what I left my beautiful life in Germany? Where can I get a ticket to go back?

The most memorable from first night being in America was A HUGE RAT, I saw right next to my bed in the motel I stayed.

My uncles came to pick me up to take to New York.

Few days I enjoyed staying with my family and afterwards I become “a slave”. What do I remember about my first year in USA? 18 hours work day in my uncle’s bakery, seeing no sun, no rest, and no money.

When I looked back at that time I realized how wrong I was about my family. By keeping in touch with them before they always used to say how sorry they are that we have to straggle because of them; how much they would like to help any of us if we would JUST COME TO America. In fact when I came here they scared me so much about strict rules for illegal and that a little mistake could cost me a trip back home. They knew our mentality and they manipulate me in the way which was comfortable for them. They even found “a lawyer” for me to get an immigration paper through asylum. They pretended that they pay him instead of giving salary to me.

While working in the bakery I spoke with one Albanian guy who had a construction company; he told me when he would have a job he would take me to work.

That’s how came a day when I left my uncle’s “sweet home”.

I had worked for that guy for 2 years. He paid me a little money, but still I had money in my hands and I did a job I like!

My next move was to work for some company where I would be able to learn language. 3 years in the country and I still couldn’t handle any simple conversation.

I worked for nasty Italian man, who use us as a 24/7 workers. But I had a reason why I was there and I kept going.

Those 2 years were enough for me to move forward again. I learnt a lot while working for that man, the way he does the business, the way he does the job. With a customer you have to be fair and you would be successful!

I bought used truck and some instruments and from that moment to nowadays I pray of the God for all goods I got in my life. Thank for his blessing.

Now after 10 years I can say I reached all goals I pointed for myself when I came to America. I built two houses for my family; I have cars and my lovely son.

I forgot to mention that as I found out later “the lawyer” my uncles found for me didn’t do anything with my paper process. After 5 years being in America I finally got legalization. That was a very good lesson for me: trust yourself and your eyes. Try to do everything yourself because people around you could be the worst enemies.

This country gives great opportunity for those who want to become somebody in this world, those who ready to work, learn, and go through a lot of difficulties.

From my experience I can say that in so many cases immigrants attain better life positions than people who born here and have all the privileges from the birth.

We are - immigrants- who have to go step by step, from getting legal in this country to building a new better life for us and our families.

"Crossing Flatbush Avenue" Roy Embrack

I was able to interview a good friend of my mom followed by a discussion. He left his home, St. Vincent, with the mind set of coming to a better and easier life. Did he eventually realize it was all a fraud. He and his family went on to living in Brooklyn and still is in the area of Church Avenue and is not thinking of returning to live back home, but makes occasional visits. Working hard and enjoying life to its max is the way he lives. This is his story.

My name is Roy Embrack and I left my home country, St. Vincent, 18 years ago to enter a new and better life here in America with my mother. I have family both here and back home that I keep in touch with all the time. I work as a Patient Liaison which is helping people and their families with non-medical questions/concerns. When I’m not working, I spend time with my family and friends whether if it’s from just sitting around conversing or doing something active. I like to go to the movies and I like to take long walks on nice days. Like I said before, I came to the U.S. for a better living, but it wasn’t as great as I expected it. I expected it to be an easier life with the expectations coming from family members that returned home with false impressions of what life in America would be like. Life is very rough; nothing is as easy as I thought it would be. One has to work twice hard in this America compared to the islands.

My command of English is very good. I still use my native language, but I do feel comfortable speaking English. My lifestyle has changed, but my values remain the same. No pressure in changing lifestyle, just have to adapt to new environment. I am a U.S. citizen. There are more benefits available to a citizen then to a non-citizen. I do not think of myself as an American, but the term “AMERICAN” to me means free society. Since I did not have a bad or terrible experience of immigration, I would say I had a common one or a little more than common; kind of better. I connect back home all of the time. I may visit home occasionally, contact them through the telephone and mail. I also watch the Caribbean channel to know what’s happening back home. I do have kids and I would like for them to know where their father is from. I took them to St. Vincent so they can meet the family and see the culture. In 10 years I should be retired and cruising around with my lady bug. I love to cruise to the islands, it’s beautiful and relaxing. I also see my kids and step kids living healthy and prosperous life without harassing me in my senior years. We all get old and age.

Crossing Flatbush Avenue: Overstay

I interviewed one of my dearest friends who preferred to remain anonymous. He moved to the States with his family when he was thirteen years old.

I’m from Guyana. I’ve been here since November 2002.

I lived in the rural part of Guyana, as opposed to the city which is more westernized or Americanized. My village didn’t have a lot of residential houses. It just had a lot of empty land and an army base, which was very cool because I was friends with the army guys and I was able to play with their AK47s …they were called GDF. And I got to sit in their boats.

The army base was there to, like, in case there was contraband ships from Suriname or Venezuela in the Corytine River or in the Atlantic Ocean in the area, the GDF… they would get on their jeeps and tow their speedboats to the water and once in a while you would see these really cool speedboat chases in the beach, you know. But my Village was pretty cool.

I lived, like, off the beach and you could have a hammock between two coconut trees and you could wake up and walk out of your hammock and there would be grains of sand between your toe…very white sand—sometimes brown sand and seashells—but they’d have a lot of watermelon vines because watermelon vines would grow around the coconut trees. There was also some squash trees –go figure--but the watermelon trees were awesome—not trees, they’re vines—they just grew wild…maybe at some point they were planted there, but it was just the perfect soil for watermelons.

And the really good watermelons—contrary to American watermelons—a really tasty, really succulent watermelon, has a very sandy taste to it. Like a very grainy, sandy, feeling to it…because it grows on sand…

The beach wasn’t blue water…it was brown water…not like a dirty brown but at the bottom of the beach were sediments or like, lots of sand sediments, it was not like a very solid bottom, just very sandy…so the water would appear like a brown…like my complexion…exactly like my complexion…you could see through it at some points…

It was a predominantly Hindu area so every Sunday morning you’d see people with Hibiscus flowers which are these red almost rose-looking flowers…it’s a very beautiful flower and almost everyone had one in their yard…

and on Sunday mornings the Hindus—my family was Hindu also—they would pick like three flowers each and go to the beach and… kneel at the end of the water where the waves would lap up to the shore. They would kneel at the end of the water, stare into the ocean, close their eyes bow their heads and pray…and when they were done praying—their hands were clasped around the flowers, by the way—they would put their hands down into the water, let the flower go. For some odd reason, the flowers would go in the opposite direction the waves were pushing them, so they’d go out into the river, or Ocean…it was reminiscent of what Indians do near the Ganges…so we kneeled before the Corentyne River and we’d pray and we let the flowers go.

The only other country I really heard stories of was America….and everyone wanted to go to America…where I come from, they would just say “’merica”.

Everyone was rich in ‘merica. Everyone had everything they wanted. Everyone had cookies and Cadbury chocolate and teddy bears and blue jeans….and everyone had sneakers…and lots of cookies in ‘merica. It was what every kid knew: if you want Cadbury chocolate, you go to ‘merica. Or you’d wait for someone to come from ‘merica and they’d give you Cadbury chocolate—you know those ones in the blue wrapper, shiny. Yeah, Cadbury milk chocolate…

When someone told me about ‘merica I couldn’t fathom it as being a real place…it was no different than a dream…there was no ‘merica in my head for real…I never managed to conceptualize where that place was from…

My mom would be like “Your uncle come from ‘merica today. Abi go see dem.” And when I would go they would give me like 5 US dollars…a lot of Cadbury chocolate…and they’d give me clothes…

My father was a very brilliant man, he was a college professor, a headmaster and, sort of like in England, he was a minister of education…a junior minister of education…there are poor ppl…there are very very few rich ppl who live a life far beyond what any other person was capable of, and then there’s my father who’s sort of in the middle…like we never had to go days or weeks without eating…or living miserably but we weren’t, like, millionaires either.

My dad came to America first. When he came back he brought some Twizzlers or other assortment of candies. Then my mom went and when she came back she brought back a Monopoly….so basically I thought America was the land of candy and games…

Then I went to boarding school for two years and I put it behind me.

My boarding school was the most wonderful institution ever. Impoverished but effective. It was called the school of excellence.

“We can. We must. We will.”

That was their credo…It’s sort of evocative of this very strong sentiment of a people fighting for survival, of a people who must overcome some sort of oppression or overcome some sort of an obstacle…

This was a school for geniuses, mind you. I’m no genius but this was a school for geniuses. The IQ in this school was greater than American debt. And that’s saying something. The problem is…these kids could be Einsteins and they would never amount to anything, not because they’re incapable of it, but just because there is no opportunity. But the boarding school itself, it fostered discipline, it nurtured a very positive social upbringing…

'tolerated' was not a word we would talk about; we just loved each other.

Like, the Muslims, the Hindus, the Christians, you know, we all had mutual respect for each other…the country has a high rate of segregation, violence, but the boarding school itself, it was like the epitome of an institution of understanding…that breeds love…and excellence.

I expected to come to America and have a great job…I wanted a Lexus Jeep…and I wanted to see Usher…I wanted to come to America, buy a Lexus, drive it over to Usher’s house and say ‘Hi!’ …I thought it was that easy. I thought I would…show the American kids what I had…not arrogance, it’s just that I was eager to prove myself in America…I was eager to be someone great. So, basically, my expectations were: I’d come to America, I’d get a great Lexus—Jeep—I’d drive over, make Usher sing, “You Got It Bad” for me, call my friend, Taslema…and tell her I met Usher and then brag about it…I thought I’d have all the candy and toys I wanted. I thought I’d go to High School and I’d meet the jock and I’d meet the blonde cheerleader…

They put me in Special Ed. because my report card from Guyana said I had a 73 average. What they didn’t realize was my 73 in Guyana equals to, like, 125 in America…so in two weeks they put me in the Honors class.

I remember something very cool; when I came over here, in our History class, we played American History Jeopardy…the first question I answered was 'where did the Transcontinental Railroad meet?' It was Promontory Point and no one else knew that…I felt so proud that it was my first week in school and I already won the American History Jeopardy. It was very cool…

While everyone already took the examinations to place them in proper High Schools, I missed that exam and I didn’t even get accepted to my zoned school. My zoned school wait-listed me….but my middle school principal knew the principal of Transit Tech so I just went to Transit Tech…from where I came from, this was not a good school at all. I was Valedictorian easy. I’m not bragging; it was just very easy. I did all my work but considering how hard I worked, it was very little.

Guyana is the only English-speaking country in South America. It’s sort of what some would call broken English, though some might find that offensive, …you have…some cacophony of words or concoction of…basic words of so many languages…it’s very obscure, what it is, but I’m only speaking of the Indo-Guyanese population of Guyana, I don’t know what the African population speak like. It’s very similar but some of the words may obviously be different, have more African roots, like for the Indo Guyanese population the words have more Indian roots…

Actually, I went to a school where they taught you English. You take any other person from Guyana…fresh off the boat… you probably wouldn’t be able to understand them.

I’m still Guyanese…I once had this girlfriend in High School; she was American. Whatever values I had, whatever standards I upheld, whatever expectations I had from people or from cultures, whatever things I kept from a place long gone…being with her…I guess it wasn’t her fault, it’s just that being with an American, being that close to an American girlfriend, it turned everything upside down…or it just threw them out the window…it wasn’t a very subtle transition; it was violent, almost…it was a violent realization…sort of what I would call the most violent episode of culture shock. Maybe I’m exaggerating, but I think so. I was being with an American woman. I’m not criticizing her…it was my moment of culture shock…dating the American woman….

To be quite frank about it, she already had sexual partners. I was seventeen, she was sixteen. But she already had a sexual partner and that was like, ‘whoa!’ I’m like, ‘really?’…it’s not something I’m used to. I realized that if I’m gonna have an American relationship, I’d seriously need to get over what some people would call- - inhibitions. I realized that… a great number of the things I value would be rendered quite ridiculous in this environment…

it’s not a very good feeling to know that all those things that you held to be beautiful principles, beautiful standards, to be violently overthrown…

I realize it has no place in this world. Maybe it has no place in Guyana anymore, I don’t know. It feels like the very essence of your being…all your dreams…all these very basic, very fundamental things that you valued and dreamt about and imagined…things that have driven your imagination, the things that have driven your love and affection, the things that have constituted every…romantic feeling you ever had or every chivalric feeling you ever had…to have the majority of these things called ridiculous, or thrown out, or be ignored or considered out of place, you know, it feels…

it feels like you no longer exist, like not only have you left a life behind, but you’ve died.

And here you are being reborn again and you have to fit a certain standard. You have to be something very stylized…there’s already a precedent you have to match. There’s a precedent for the American male…the American male has to be a particular something…he has to have a very particular set of standards…you’re not free to imagine your perfect woman, you’re not free to look at your woman and think of princesses and fair maidens and forever anymore. It’s just not there anymore. I mean, that’s how it feels. Practically speaking? Reasonably speaking? Maybe they’re not wrong. Maybe it’s just not the place for it anymore. Maybe I am ridiculous. I don’t know.

Until a few years ago I didn’t know I wasn’t a U.S. citizen…all my friends were working and I’m at home and I’m like, ‘Ma, I wanna get a job.’ And she’s like, ‘No. You can’t get a job.’ And I’m like ‘Why?’ She’s like, ‘Don’t worry about it.’ Eventually I found out I needed a Social Security Number to get a job. Like who knew, right? Who knew I needed a number to be somebody?…I thought only old people needed it to get some sort of benefits. Am I wrong? Isn’t that what it was meant for? …I was heartbroken…

As time went on, my friends went to work for the MTA as part of the course requirement and I was stuck fixing old computers at school, and my girlfriend was working at some cancer institute in Manhattan making like $600 a week just filing stuff. I was stuck at school fixing old Dell computers…blowing dust from between the keyboard keys, and then I was heartbroken. And then I realized that this was gonna be much harder than I ever thought. I was seventeen.

Brooklyn College is very, very wonderful…they’re very accommodating.

Like, in High School I graduated valedictorian; I have like perfect scores on regent exams; I have over 2000 on my SATs, you know, I got like a perfect score on the English part, both English parts. I have like five offers of fully paid tuition, and books, and room and board from scholarships from colleges all over America…and you know what?

I couldn’t go to any of them; I couldn’t take any of those full-paid scholarships.

One that stood out in my mind, because a lot of people got scholarships from my school because my school was predominantly Black…they all had partial scholarships to this Black school in Tennessee called Fisk. I’m not a Black kid but I had the only full scholarship. They even offered to pay for my books, my room, my board, my food, and they offered to give me a stipend…and I couldn’t take it….the story of my life basically. I had so many opportunities that I couldn’t take. And then, one day, I was…visiting Brooklyn College with my girlfriend…I bumped into a very good woman who has some power at Brooklyn College…she looked at my transcripts, saw my perfect regents grades, saw my 98.96% graduation valedictorian score and my SAT scores and she said, ‘You’re coming to Brooklyn College.’ And I’m like, ‘Thank you.’ Then she told me I was full of bulls*** for some reason…long story…I love the woman. But you know, here I am, Brooklyn College. And I still can’t get a job.

Right now being an American means having nine digits…I would love to be an American. I think I would be a good American. Do you know I haven’t littered -actively littered- since November of 2002 when I touched down in America? I am yet to actively litter…I perform my civil duties. That’s what I would like to think.

Being an American means having those nine digits, means taking those nine digits for granted, not knowing what you have, you know? Not knowing what it’s worth. That’s being an American, right?

There are a lot of people who are willing to sacrifice a lot of things for nine digits. At this particular moment, I think I have a chance. I see myself with those nine digits. And you know what? Those nine digits are not just nine digits to me; those nine digits represent a fighting chance. I see myself with artillery. Nine freakin’…ordnance!...you know what I’m saying? I just see myself with a fighting chance. It will be more than nine digits. You know? It will be something of value. It will be my greatest asset. Most Americans, I think, don’t consider their Social Security Number an asset. It will be my asset. I’m studying accounting; I want to put it down as an intangible asset. A priceless, intangible asset.

To me, having a Social Security number, that’s the greatest intangible asset you can have.

Why don’t we all put it down as our greatest intangible asset? You know? It makes perfect sense to me.