This Immigrant Speaks

I grew up in Nashville’s immigrant culture, practicing what is called dual-engagement. This meant constructing a perception of American culture that was acceptable in the family living room and in a more hidden way, finding what I would later call my own culture. 

Ethics was easier for incoming changes and perceived advancing of American value endorsement. Accepting food where a direct relation could not be observed or created proved to be more difficult than it should have been. 

I learned to consider myself to be a simple structure first and then a complex person afterwards. It was only a decade or so later from my upbringing that I accepted that a person can be as complex as newness will allow. 

I was not gifted at mixing with what I called foreign even while on foreign soil. The compensation for this inability still affects me today. I compensated by embarking in cultural practices at every opportunity, translating otherwise basic encounters and seasons into an affair of tradition, and looking back with every opportunity. 

I grew up moving quickly constantly. A chance is not given to sit and reflect on changing norms or to voice a difference from your perspective. Order was passed down from the top and each child would effect an allowance for that belief. I grew up exchanging bread for juice. This meant if the pseudo-Nigerian value was a responsible daughter and the American equivalent was to be outspoken, then I found a schedule that included both. 

I grew up with a cooking style that meant more than an insinuation of family. Separating concepts and ideas was secondhand. Inquiry about each person’s origin to a fault was an ever-present vice. I grew up exchanging the domestic house for the city life. That was my currency.