small and inconsequential

I grew up in the United States. I was born here, and sure ok, for the first couple of years in my life I did not live in the United States. But my parents wanted a piece of that good old American Dream and so the first time I moved from one home to another I was 5. As I look back at those memories of that first home, those memories are reminiscent of that classic tale of a white picket fence. That home with a yard, where I remember planting flowers, with neighbors that I got to know through the years. I remember walking to school, a 10 minute walk that I was too young to do on my own so I rarely walked it on my own. I remember listening to the ice cream trucks drive past the block, getting on bicycles to play outside. My memories paint this time like a dream.

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“You’re not American if you’ve never seen this show,” she says. “I feel pretty American,” I joke back. I really tried to be her friend through my college years, but I just could never address that comment she made to me so early into getting to know each other. That get together was of course about getting to know each other, we had all just moved in not too long ago, we wanted to make friends, get along with the people we shared a floor with. I never truly told her that her comment wasn’t really a joke for some us in this country. This instance taught me that a lot of this mess truly begins with the small, inconsequential words we say. I’ve learned to make sure I’m addressing that which is small and inconsequential because it never is. It's really hard though, and I'm never able to do it every time.