Butterfly: A Poem of the Unspoken Traumas of Immigration for the “American Dream”

Adriana Gonzalez-Ibarra, Staff Writer 

I remember the first time I took flight and I didn’t expect the wind to push against me as hard as it did on that September morning.

I was told by others before me that the wind was supposed to guide me in the direction that they had called the “American Dream” 

We have flown over 265 miles and this was just in one day. We have more than two months left before we make it to this so-called dreamland where we are welcomed with love and compassion. 

But this journey is not easy in the slightest way possible because the sun has gotten to the point where its burning parts of our wings making it harder to fly and some have fallen into the river and never made it out of its currents then others gave out after the heat had gotten to them and never made it past the desert. 

Yet for the ones that made it we noticed that we weren’t the only ones flying in this foreign land known as the American Dream there were other butterflies flying as if they knew our struggle. 

Their wings resemble that of our own but then I realized that they were moths and the words they were telling had become bittersweet. 

Those words at first were welcome to your new home we can’t wait to see the dream you achieve then turned bittersweet to the point that it was nothing but “ Go back to your country” “This is America you speak English” “you don’t belong here” “you are the reason we have criminals in this country” 

After so long those words become nothing but white noise behind the sound of the wings against the cages they had placed us in 

I never would have thought I would see myself separated from the kaleidoscope of those who I had known as home

Then not to mention those born on this dreamland never knowing the beauty of their parents’ homeland because they can never return without the permission of the moths 

Yet we as legacies for a better life found a way to fight for not only ourselves but those who have had their wings cut and make them heard from beyond the white noise 

Because if the “American Dream” is who they say they are, why is it that they continue to look at us as if we don’t exist in their melting pot of diversity and the dream of a better life.

Limbo Between Worlds

By: Adriana Gonzalez-Ibarra, Staff Writer

This is not my first time being in limbo, I have been in limbo even before my very existence 

I have experienced the very lives of my mother and grandmother had because I was a soul bound to watch their existence 

I experienced the wars they have had with themselves knowing I would experience the same fate 

Then before I knew it I took the breath of life but I knew instinctively that my soul has been here before 

And I have walked more around this world than some have in their entire life 

I was brought in this world by an immigrant mother knowing I would have a different life

But that is not what scared my soul

 what scared it was the very world I was born into 

Mi sangre was Mexican and American but never enough for either 

Yet I could never tell my own mother how I saw myself because I was scared that I would see my mother's heart break right in front of me 

But as a mother she always knew and told me,“ Tu sangre es fuerte todo en tiempo mija” 

I never understood what she meant until now 

Mi sangre es fuerte and time was indeed in my favor

The pain I experienced in this life was meant for a reason 

As a child you don’t understand why things happen the way they do 

But as time continues you come to a understanding that life is a war 

A war in which you face yourself and have to come to a moment of peace for yourself because that is what your heart deserves 

That never came easy to me 

especially being in a world where I feel like I don't belong 

Yet I realized I couldn't keep fighting with myself because it takes a toll 

It takes a toll on your mind, body, and spirit

those thoughts of not feeling enough for either side and to find that middle ground where I am enough no matter the situation 

That all happened because my mother and my grandmother 

They were the strongest women I knew in my life and they saw me for who I was 

That is all I ever wanted in my life was for someone to see me for who I was 

But I was so stuck in my own head that I never looked into the eyes of the women who raised me 

That is where my moment of peace came was from the eyes that only ever wanted peace

Especially feeling stuck between two halves of yourself that are constantly at war with one another 

I know that it's better to come to an acceptance rather than to keep the cycle of denial and deny the existence of those before me 

I know that two halves make a whole 

I know that my blood runs through two different countries 

I know that my existence is tied between two cultures that meet at the la frontera with beauty and poise why be stuck in limbo when I can be embraced by those who understand my existence