Here’s to the security guards who maybe had a degree in another land.
Here’s to the manicurist who had to leave her family to come here, painting the nails, scrubbing the feet of strangers.
Here’s to the janitors who don’t even ******* understand English yet work hard despite it all.
Here’s to the fast food workers who work hard to see their family smile.
Here’s to the laundry man downtown who told me with the sparkle in his eyes how he was an engineer in Peru.
Here’s to the bus driver, the grey haired angel who almost danced when I quoted Nelson Mandela.
Here’s to the harvesters who live in fear of being deported for coming here to open the road for their future generation.
Here’s to the foreigners here to make ends meet..Here is to them waking up at 4am, calling home to hear the voices of their loved ones. Here is to their children, to the children who despite it all become artists, writers, teachers, doctors, lawyers, activists and rebels.
Here’s to our patriots. For never forgetting home. Here’s to their children who carry the heartbeats of their motherland and even in sleep, speak with pride about their fathers. Keep on...