Early in my life, I started my journey through this earth as a refugee when my parents fled the rise of an authoritarian regime in their homeland. With just the few possessions they were able to stuff into a suitcase, they arrived in New York City—with me, just eighteen months old—in the spring of 1960.
Refugees are slightly different from immigrants, who migrate in search of economic opportunities. Refugees flee political persecution.
I find it humorous that United Statesians refuse to use either term when referring to themselves while migrating abroad. They refer to themselves as “expats,” even when they migrate in search of economic opportunities or to flee the rise of our current authoritarian regime. Euroamericans have made the term “immigrant” so derogatory that they refuse to use it to self-identify.
I, too, can play that game and call myself an expat to the U.S., but I won’t.
READ THE REST OF THE ARTICLE HERE: AT GOOD FAITH MEDIA
