Making Joy
When I walk into the printmaking studio, the creaky wood-paneled floors give away my entrance. The studio appears dilapidated, with pipes exposed from an open ceiling, and I hear every other person’s footsteps and children screaming in the distance, but at this point it’s like a second home to me. Smelling the strong scent of […]
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Caught in the Middle of an Ugly Divorce
I was born and raised in East Harlem near 110th and Madison. Both my parents were well known on the block; for a time I felt like royalty. My mom told me stories about how my aunts and neighbors fought over who held me next. Hugs, kisses, and constantly being called papi chulo was the […]
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The Good in Grieving
When I was 5, I moved to Bangladesh from the U.S. This enabled me to spend more time with my grandparents: Abdur and Amena on my father’s side; Misbahul and Samsun on my mother’s. I loved and cherished my time with my grandparents. Samsun sat by her bed and gathered my cousins and me to […]
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Breaking Ties With My Mom
I didn’t meet my parents until I was 9. I grew up in El Salvador with my grandmother and traveled alone to join my father, mother, and two new little sisters who were born in New York. When I first got here, my mom bought me new clothes, and showed me around the neighborhood. She […]
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