When I first came here, I would spell my name to cashiers
Starbucks kept getting my name wrong, making me feel so alone
Had to learn biology, economics, math, and psychology
No assistance to the person who could barely speak English
I memorized words to start conversations,
Couldn’t make jokes because of my dictation.
Ts at the end of words became ch sounds
Words ending with ing, overemphasized, eenGuh
infiltrraCHinguh in an unfamiliar space, infested with unknown faces.
I never felt so insecure, so alone, living in a place I wish was home.
Mom, I’m not understanding, this sooffucaCHeenguh feeling,
Of not knowing what they are saying.
They make me so discontent, with comments of my accent
An endless complication, of being lost in translation.
I came with open arms, but they treat me with disregard.
Why this comparison, between me and an American?
I feel so intrusive in this unwelcoming illusion.
Why is it deemed so worthy, this scheme called American Dream?
Thiago Rego is from Brazil, loves his country’s culture and is happy to be able to share his experience as an international student through poetry. He is currently the President of the Brazilian Student Association, helping each Brazilian student to feel home and included.
Instagram: thiago.luperi