"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 She is West Indian, and requested that I do not publish the name of her home country.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.