sry this is super unedited oh well this is a blog so whatevs
To me, being diaspora’d means a million painful feelings about language and indadquacy. Being diaspora’d means I got to do an ESL test before kindergarten, but the education I got after it has left me feeling like English is not my second language, but rather the only language I can speak anymore. Where is my first language? Language other than English spoken at home? Yes. But not by me. Not anymore, at least. Not in years and years and years. Being diaspora’d is being left out of diaspora because you don’t have your language. Being diaspora’d is no place for you, even where you thought there’d be. Being diaspora’d is your fellow diaspora’d folks believing in or acting like there’s a homogenized diasporic culture; one that erases you. That includes language. Being diaspora’d means wondering how much your possible future children will hurt, because you can’t even share your first language with them. Being diaspora’d is wondering if people will look down on you. Being diaspora’d is feeling awkward and terrible and hoping you’ll pass out when you get handed a phone to say “happy birthday” to someone or to hear a relative say “happy birthday” to you. Being diaspora’d is hoping your grandma has given up hope on listening to you speak, because as painful as that thought is, it’s even more painful to let her down when the phone is handed to you and you have nothing to say. Being diaspora’d and not speaking your parents’ language anymore is wondering if you’re part of the problem.