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When I was growing up, my parents always told me what happened in America the other day would never actually happen. That behavior only happened in countries like Romania. I remember the constant comparison between them and us
They would explain how lucky we were that we would never know that turmoil and confusion and pain. Of course- Andoni and I were refugees- collateral damage left over from a man in power for far too long. Over the last few years I can’t help but feel the burden of sacrifice
My birth mother assumed I would be safe anywhere- but there. Watching the disintegration of this place has filled me with guilt that isn’t mine to shoulder- yet it lingers in every fiber of my body.
After the events at the capitol I find myself struggling to comprehend the difference between us and them. At least now in Romania you can’t legally use hate speech in public regarding Romani people. Here it’s still the Wild West.
Honestly, at this point- I find I struggle to see what differences there were between this reign of terror vs. the one I was born into half a world away.
And I know you're all tired of me talking about this, but it’s literally the reason I’m even in America in the first place, and in the weirdest way possible I finally understand why the choices were made to put all the children in the orphanages- and how a lost generation happens
