power of h Weblog

I first got this image or something like it while listening to Bob Dylan’s  I Pity The Poor Immigrant. All of us in the Americas are children of immigrants. We all share in this common experience of being in an alien place and feeling both alone and vulnerable. And yet, immigrants believe that their experience is unique, is not like those who came before them or those that will follow. Their pain is always greater, their experience more intense.