My America

As I take the elevator up to the 18th floor at work I look around. I am the only woman surrounded by 8 Hasidic Jewish men.

Later when I pop out for lunch, I decide on Thai and walk up 9th ave. There are 3 I can choose from. Everyone of the employees is Thai and speaks to each other in Thai while quickly serving lunch.

On the way home I squeeze myself on the L train along with the rest of North Brooklyn. A group of black kids jump on and carves out a hole to start dancing. Music pumps, people start clapping, an Eastern European couple start recording on their phones.

When I get out in Bushwick, I start walking to my apartment. Down my street 6 Puerto Ricans sit on the steps arguing fiercely over something in Spanish.

These are just some of the many culturally diverse moments I experience in a day in New York. This is my America. I will fight for it every day to stay different because that is what makes us great. No one will convince me otherwise. As a granddaughter of immigrants I will stand with anyone who is looking to take a chance and make a change. This is why I have hope for America’s future. We are a nation of dreamers, nothing will slow us down.

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