bowThe bows resemble the constant struggle my mother had to face. She had 6 kids, babysat at night, and still managed to find time within her day to make a batch of 100 bows. This is something that truly expresses how hard my mom was and the innocence behind her, even if she was painted as a horrible person due to her faith.
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strawberyMy father experienced hate at work quite often, and put up with it, with a fake smile constantly plastered on his face. Regardless of how bad his day was, he would still come home late at night and wake up my siblings and I. He brought back Strawberry Haagen Dasz everyday for his family. To this day our family keeps our fridge stocked with Strawberry Haagen Das in remembrance to my father’s big heart. Strawberries reminds us all of the American dream, and proves to us that even though we are victims of hate every day, we are still good at heart.
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pineappleOn my parents journey to America, they stocked their luggage with fresh fruits before anything else. My parents wanted their kids to have the sweet, and tangy taste of the pineapple from our soil. This strengthens the purity and love that is between my parents and our family. We are tainted a certain way, and disregard those proclaims for our family and our happiness.
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lettersThese letters represent how my parents learned the entire English language in one, 24 hour plane trip from Bangladesh to America.
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teardropThe teardrops represent the emotion felt after the events of 9/11. The entire nation was struck after this day. This was also the day that birthed national hate towards Muslims due to the actions of Osama Bin-Ladin.
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heartThe hearts depict the love and reasoning for my parents journey to America. Their reason for everything they gave up was their family and kids.
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flowerThe flowers, similar to the hearts show the innocence within my parents and their story. The intentions were pure and explains why our family refuses to give in to the hatred and islamaphobia.
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To tell my parents story, I wrote two individual poems that thanks them and shows The American Dream at it's finest. I collaborated with Mrs. Detwiler frequently and used poetic devices to strengthen my work. I kept a repetition pattern and used other poets as inspiration when writing my poems. I read pieces of E.E Cummings, Sylvia Plath, and Emily Dickinson and stole concepts and poetry styles from all three poets to incorporate into my own work. |
This poem is about my mother and her bleeding thumbs, weak hands, but strong heart.
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This poem is about my father and his distressed eyes, cold hands, but warm heart.
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