Migrant Youth: August 2008 Archives
Today, my baby girl is a migrant.
She is headed four thousand
miles away, and she will be gone a year. We've been preparing for this
trip for almost as long, since she first decided she wanted to be a Rotary exchange student.
Her decision left me proud and excited for her, and not until my last
few days with her did I begin to feel the dread of seeing her leave,
knowing I wouldn't see her again for a long time. But my sadness at her
leaving is tempered somewhat by the certainty, barring any tragedies,
that I will see her again, and by the finite amount of time that she
will be away.
My ache at being separated from my daughter is eased by something else, too: by the knowledge that what I am experiencing pales in comparison to what thousands of mothers are going through as their children set off on more perilous, less certain, journeys.
She is headed four thousand
miles away, and she will be gone a year. We've been preparing for this
trip for almost as long, since she first decided she wanted to be a Rotary exchange student.
Her decision left me proud and excited for her, and not until my last
few days with her did I begin to feel the dread of seeing her leave,
knowing I wouldn't see her again for a long time. But my sadness at her
leaving is tempered somewhat by the certainty, barring any tragedies,
that I will see her again, and by the finite amount of time that she
will be away.My ache at being separated from my daughter is eased by something else, too: by the knowledge that what I am experiencing pales in comparison to what thousands of mothers are going through as their children set off on more perilous, less certain, journeys.
Continue reading Todos Somos Migrantes: We Are All Migrants.
