Birds That Fly With Half A Wing.
Immigrants. The word has a strange fragrance to it. As soon as it’s out in the air, it evokes varied reactions. It is a tough word to swallow, both for the ones who utter it and the ones who feel it land on the lobes of their ear. It is also a perplexing word, invoking a sense of uncertainty. One never really knows how to react when it pops up in casual conversations. Perhaps it is safe to say that not many people would want to willingly associate themselves with this bittersweet-tasting word. Yet there are almost 300 million international migrants in the world. (Source: https://worldmigrationreport.iom.int/wmr-2020-interactive/)
I am one amongst the tribe of such migrating birds. The ones who flew from their nest in search of something else. A new opportunity, a fairer chance at life, another home, a different version of who they can be.
Adopted. That’s another word that hangs heavily in the air every time it leaves the quiet chambers of our minds. It carries the weight of all things unsaid, displacement, non-belongingness, acceptance or rather the lack of it. That yearning to fit in mixed with defiance to stand out. Often it is associated with children who find new homes, and new parents. A bunch of humans who traditionally do not belong together but are choosing to. Again for a myriad of reasons.
Immigration and adoption together form some kind of a flavourful combination. A soup of modern reality for all those who willingly or unwillingly find themselves in new adopted homes. Places they did not grow up in, neighbourhoods that are not so familiar.
Slowly we accustom ourselves to our adopted homes and people we accept as adopted families. We familiarize ourselves with unfamiliar customs and places. We adapt, yet not quite blend in. The shades of our skin, the zest of our accents, and the seasoning of our thoughts set us apart unwillingly. Like roots that jut out awkwardly when they outgrow a pot. Exposed in the air, yearning for more earth to merge into.
Some of us find these nutritive lands with evolved human minds that welcome us with big hearts. Taking us in and allowing us to vegetate. Others are confined to restricted pots that refuse to expand. Isolated.
If adoption can be understood then why not immigration?
Isn’t it a similar kind of displacement? If adoption can be understood then why not immigration?
Isn’t it a similar kind of displacement? Sometimes forced, and at other times embarked on willingly in the search of a nourishing ecosystem. Often at the cost of ripping ourselves apart from communities that fostered us. Leaving pieces of our hearts and flying with only half a wing.
