It was just a dream
by: Desiree Holman
There’s a white plane. As I watch the plane coming closer to the airline gate, I see “Caribbean Airlines” displayed across the plane. My mother, my brother and I are waiting in the airport getting ready to leave. We are finally leaving our home, Guyana. I look out the window, watching the green palm trees swish in the wind one last time before we depart. I see so many people who are waiting for the voyage to America for the first time. Everyone is dressed in sweatshirts and sweatpants, while I am wearing a long sleeve t-shirt with black pants and dirty old white sneakers. My mother and brother are wearing similar outfits. The airline announces that our plane is ready to board. As I got on the plane I sat at the window seat looking beyond the sky. The sky was a dark pink with purple almost dawn. The flight attendants started handing out snacks, asked me and my family if we wanted any blue chips with ginger ale. I took a bag, only because I was hungry. I opened the bag and took a handful of chips and started eating. The chips were nasty and stale so I started drinking the ginger ale instead. Once everyone boarded the plane, the pilot made their announcements over the speaker phone. *Speaker noise Qrrrrr* “This is your Captain speaking. We are ready to depart from Guyana to New York City.” I stayed awake to await my voyage. My name is Avi, the year is 2013, I am 18 years old, and I am an immigrant coming to America.
Six hours later, the plane landed. It was dark outside and there were bright lights. As I got off the plane, I looked back and noticed we weren’t in Guyana anymore. We get off the plane and I look up to see I have finally landed in JFK. It was huge, immaculate, exactly how I pictured from seeing it on the internet. We walked to the baggage claims to collect our luggage. Once we retrieved our belongings, we had to prepare to present our passports and documents. We’re here because my Grandmother, who already is a citizen, sponsored us so we can enter the United States. Going through security and customs was difficult, it made us feel uncomfortable because we were nervous. The security guards, dressed in a sky blue shirt and navy blue plants with handcuffs, looked at me strangely. I have brown skin, brown eyes and brown hair. My family is also brown. My stomach started to cringe, I was so nervous I thought we were being denied to enter. I hid my tears because I didn’t want to go back to Guyana. I kept looking back at the gates hoping this nightmare wouldn’t happen. I looked at all the other immigrants waiting in line, they all looked scared and nervous, praying we could get through this process. The security guards kept staring at me, I was shaking, I didn’t know how to position myself, but all of a sudden from all the nerves and adrenaline in my body, we finally got the approval to enter after all of our papers were looked at and questions were answered about our arrival. We finally left the airport, I saw the sliding doors, I walked outside and started to smell the fresh air of New York City.
Afterwards, we took a cab to the borough of Queens to the neighborhood Ozone Park, where my Grandmother and Aunt were staying. I was excited to see them. The cab driver dropped us off at a big white house, with a brown and gold front door, a black gate and two grey cars in the driveway. The street sign says 90th street. My grandmother opened the door and we all ran to hug her tightly. She asked how our trip was and if we were hungry. We sat down on the couch, eating traditional Guyanese food of Dhal Puri and Duck. While I was eating, I reached for my wallet to look at my Guyana citizen ID. I knew I had to get a new ID, but I would always keep my old one, remembering where I came from. Guyana would always be where I’m from, but New York City is my new home now.
The very first thing I did after seeing my Grandmother and Aunt was attend a party. I changed my clothes from the dirty rags I wore to a grey Nike shirt, black jeans and black sneakers. My cousin Bri, who lives with my Grandmother and Aunt, took me to a small party as a warm welcome. Once we arrived at the party, they played loud Chutney and Soca music. It almost felt like home. I met other brown people like me, Guyanese and even Trinidadian. No one didn’t treat me like a stranger. Suddenly I see someone is about to approach me. He is also brown just like me, dressed in a plaid shirt, with blue straight jeans and clean black sneakers.
*Conversation was in Broken down English*
“Hey, are you new here?” said a random guy.
“Yes,” I said, “I just arrived from Guyana.”
“Wow, then you’re really going to love it here, everything is so different, ever since I moved from Trinidad 3 years ago I never looked back. I feel free.” said the random guy.
I said, “That’s exactly what I want, freedom, to not feel like an outsider because I am an immigrant because we’re not American born so there are many challenges and obstacles we will face.”
Random guy says, “I agree, even at where I work, I work for Construction and my American co-workers treat me differently because I am an immigrant although I have more credibility because of the work I do. I am an excellent worker and provide for my family.
I said, “That’s really important, making money for stability and taking care of your family. My apologies, sorry I didn’t introduce myself, my name is Avi.”
Random guy, “My name is Kev, nice to meet you Avi. If you ever need to look for work I am your guy. Us brown people have to stick together and help each other out. Here’s my contact info, let me know when you’re ready so I can reference you to my company.”
Avi, “Thanks I really appreciate it, means a lot.”
Kev says, “By any chance, what documents do you have to show you can work?”
Avi, “Nothing at the moment, we have to get our Visas, but my Grandmother sponsored us so I hope we can work something out.”
Kev looked at me puzzled. He started to rub his beard and was thinking.
“I will explain to my boss your situation,’ said Kev, “and we can work something out for you. Make sure you call me, until then have some fun, eat, drink, and be happy.”
Avi, “Haha, I plan to.”
After the party, I went back to my Grandmothers finding my mother and brother went to sleep. I stayed up for a while sitting on the flowered plastered couch. Bri and I opened bottles of Bank’s beer, a drink from Guyana, and discussed plans about finding work. I told him I suggested talking to Kev, whom I met at the party about work.
I decided to call Kev. He told me to come to his job site, so I can talk to his boss. When I hung up the phone I told my mother, while she was making breakfast, and she was pleased that I found a reference to help me find work. My mother made me Guyanese breakfast, Saltfish and Bakes, one of my favorites. It also felt good to still eat traditional Guyanese food. After I ate, I showered, got dressed and left to meet Kev at his job site. I walked down the block of Liberty Ave to get to the A train. This was my first time getting on a train, learning how to swipe a metrocard, and walk up the stairs above ground to see it all. I saw an overview of the city, it looked really nice during the day time. I had to take the A to Jay St. MetroTech, Downtown Brooklyn, where Kev worked. Kev texted me the directions to follow, I even kept looking at the map to make sure I was going the exact direction. The train was going really fast, I was trying to pay attention because I was afraid I’d miss my stop.
Train operator, “This is Jay St. MetroTech.”
I reached my destination and texted Kev I had arrived. As I walked out the train station, I saw Kev on the corner of Jay St. and he waved to me. I walked across the street and walked up to Kev, but as soon as I got close, suddenly I felt my heart drop. It wasn’t Kev, it was the security guards from customs. I was so scared and confused as to why they were here. I was getting ready to run, but two more came from behind and grabbed me.
Avi says, ‘Nooo, let me go. I didn’t do anything. Please let me go.”
Main security guard says, “I don’t like immigrants. You disgust me, always coming here to America and trying to live here for free. Don’t even work hard like I do. You’re going back to where you came from.”
“What?”, says Avi, “I have a job interview today, I have my sponsorship and am already in the process getting my Green Card. I will become a U.S. citizen. I belong here.”
Main security guard says, “I don’t think so, I am here by Immigration Customs and Enforcement to deport you back to your country. You are illegal and will not enter this country anymore. Ever since you arrived, I kept my eye on you. All those other immigrants will also go back to their countries. We don’t want you all here.”
As the other security guards kept holding me, I turned around and saw a plane, the plane was smaller than the one at JFK. The security guards handcuffed and shoved me inside. The plane inside was small, it was horrifying, terrible, and I was afraid. I was alone. I tried to run so I could get to my family, but the doors closed on me fast. The plane starts to move. I hear a speaker.
Pilot, “This is your Captain speaking” the same Captain from before, “this plane is heading one way to Guyana.”
Avi says, “Noooo, I don’t want to go back, I am already home, pleaseeee turn the plane around. What about my family? Pleaseee I want to go home.”
Main security guard says, “Shut up, you’re going back to your country, where you will stay forever.”
Avi says, “Nooo — -I — -Nooooooo”
*White Flash*
Avi’s mother, “Avi?, Avi? AVI! Wake up, wake up!”
. I woke up, looking around my room, all my stuff is here, my brother is sleeping in his bed, and my mom is sitting beside mine looking down at me worried.
Avi, “Mom, I, I was dreaming. I had a horrible nightmare about ICE sending me back to Guyana.”
Avi’s mother says, “it’s okay, don’t be afraid. We are still here in NYC, we are still home. It was just a dream.”
Avi, “It’s the same dream I’ve had for 3 years now. I’m not sure why I keep having it, but it’s just a dream.
Avi’s mother says, “Maybe it’s a prediction of what will happen in the future. Not many people are lucky as we are and get to stay here in the U.S. As long as we have documentation, we are safe and will be just fine. By the way, Kev kept calling you, he says you’re late for work. So c’mon get ready.”
I couldn’t believe I had a horrible dream, it felt so real. Soon as I got out of bed, I called Kev back and apologized for sleeping in.
Kev, “Heyyy, you overslept?”
Avi, “Yeah, sort of. Not sure what happened, I was having a horr — -nevermind, it’s not important. Am I still scheduled to come in?”
Kev says, “Yepp, hurry up. Boss wants us on a big project somewhere in Harlem.”
Avi, *Sigh* “I hate Harlem, my other worst nightmare,” We both laughed, “On my way!”
