Why Does Middle America Hate Us?

With all the vitriol against people like us in this country, I sometimes wonder if it's worth fighting at all, and whether I would be better off going to a nation that only truly exists in my imagination, a vision of the land of fables, unfathomable history, and my parents struggles to bring me here. I feel tired sometimes, living on the very edge of the fringe in this society. I feel scared, sometimes, that if I drive into the wrong neighborhood, or the wrong part of the nation, I may be targeted in more ways than one, a perpetual bullseye painted upon my chest, crosshairs focused upon my heart of hearts. I worry for my friends, my peers, my nieces and nephews. I wish that I knew less, because perhaps in this case, I wouldn't feel so tired that it is our responsibility to address this hatred, this animosity. I wish that at least I didn't think it possible to overcome it all. I wish that I knew, in some clear way, what the true hearts of people in this nation hid underneath the layers of silence, smiles, and euphemisms.

And then, how can I, as a South Asian in America, child of educated immigrants who struggled to bring me here, post my feelings with any sense of importance when I realize that there are so many others, from my own communities, and the other communities without the tools or the time to voice what they feel about the wave of hatred, animosity, and disgust that seems to have taken over the airwaves, the op-ed columns, and definitely the letters sections. Even in NYC I feel cornered sometimes by the power(ed) establishment. When all we want is a fighting and equal chance, why are we so demonized? How can information be so twisted, gnarled, and spit out with such gusto and disregard for the truth? The protectionist, bully patRIOTism that is an easy fix for acultural Anglo-Americans appears stacked against us.

Living in the United States can be quite a challenge when your neighbors don't always believe in "live and let live."