An Anniversary I didn't plan

On August 10th, 1992, when I was 10 yrs old with an 11th birthday in the near future, my 4 younger siblings and I arrived to Arizona with my parents. We arrived to Arizona as new immigrants from the island of Trinidad. My father was two years younger than I am now, my mom three years younger than him. They left their homes, their jobs, their friends and most of their close family and traveled far with 5 young children and the hope of securing the future for all of us.

The journey of assimilation, adjustment, navigating through the real barriers set up against immigrants and people of color in this country, all to succeed was a challenging one for all of us, but we did it.... not without some scars.

It is almost impossible to truly know what you are getting into when you leave what you know to venture into the unknown. Randy and I have access to so much more pre-information than my parents ever did.

I am grateful that we had parents who had the strength and courage to leave what they determined would not work for what they believed would. I guess that if they are conflicted about me leaving, they can only blame themselves for the example they set.

I asked my dad as he was driving me to the airport if he thought I was crazy, and he said no. I know that this must be surreal to them to know that they brought their children to the United States for a better life, only to see one leave for the same reason.

It was not until a few weeks after we'd booked our flight to New Zealand for the 10th of August that it dawned on me why that date felt so significant. It was the day we arrived to Arizona after a staying a few days in New York. It was so damn hot! Some family picked us up from the airport but one of the cars had no A/C. Being the eldest, I was placed in that car and the heat was so oppressive, even with the windows down, that I passed out or lost consciousness or fell asleep. I don't know. I do know that I came to in a pool of sweat as we pulled up to my aunt's house. What an adjustment to go from a tropical island to a desert... in the middle of the summer. It would take me many years to get used to this drastic change.

Today, we are about to board a flight from the summer to a country in their winter. I wonder what my children will remember of this day. Twenty Nine years ago to the day, I am leaving my home as an immigrant in search of a better life. The poetry of this is not lost on me.