August

I Am American

I Am American

I used to wonder what it meant to be an American. 

I used to think I wasn’t American because of how I looked.

I used to think I wasn’t fit to be American because of how I sound.

I used to think I wasn’t American because the people told me so. 

I used to think I wasn’t American at all because I was different from everyone. I compared myself to an American because they seemed better than me.

I used to think that I was not equal to American people because I was from elsewhere.

I felt their eyes judging me, I heard them talk about me, I saw them hurt me. 

I didn’t feel like an American.

‘Is this what it means to an American?’ I thought to myself. ‘Do people hurt each other? Did they insult one another? Did they judge one another?’ 

I questioned myself every day. Everyday I wondered whether or not I was American. 

I tried, I tried to fit in but I knew I couldn’t. I couldn’t be American because I wasn’t like them. I wasn’t American because I speak another language from them. 

All my life I questioned myself. I questioned the things they did. 

But then I realized that even if I’m different from the rest of them 

I’m still American. 

I don’t care what they say, I don’t care what they think, I don’t care if they judge.

I Don’t Care.

Because even if I’m different, I’m still American.

I Am American.