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My internship this summer was with Migrant Roots Media and I was able to look into my family’s story of migration. I researched the history of Honduras, talked to my mom about her childhood, and as I reflected on my life in North Carolina I wrote the following poem:


For Mami

I listen close to the tales you speak

I wander around the lands and the streets you’ve painted

I feel the cool river beneath my feet

I smell the maíz you carried so high above your head


I’ve listened closely for 20 years now

Yet, I still seem to blur the names of the towns

And the names of the people you once knew


I wish to navigate the childhood you dream about

I wish to see your journey to me

But I know that even after 20 more years,

I’ll still never know


This is your story,

Once that belongs solely to you

Intertwined with that of your parents, your siblings, your children, your friends

It seems all your relationships have come with sacrifice

I yearn to give you something with no strings attached

But sadly our world is made of one sole long thread


The same thread you used to sew a million garments,

Or the symbols of your home’s history,

Is the thread to ties us all back to Flores, Lima, Amarateca,

Savage Rd, and Springvale