immigrant parents

From my mom, I learned to be funny, somewhat carefree, lighthearted and determined. I learned what beauty looks like. I learned how to stand my ground as a girl in this world.

I vaguely imagine the shoes my parents could be walking in one day, the paths they could blaze, the genuine dreams they would be pursuing. But the details are often excluded. It's hard to imagine something that won’t ever exist.

For many of us who hail from immigrant backgrounds, we know that one of our parents’ dreams is to have their child’s name bear the prefix of “Dr.”

“What would you do if your kid was gay?” The question lingers heavily in the air between all of us like pungent perfume.

There are two lollipops on the ground: one neatly wrapped and one opened and covered with ants crawling all over it.