I wrote a little poem the other day about emigrating America. In it, I tried to describe from memory a photograph when I first set foot in Chicago O’Hare back in 1980. I thought to myself, “Well, I probably have that photo somewhere, huh?”
And here it is.
It kind of odd that probably for everyone else in that airport it was just a routine day. Going on vacation, heading off on a business trip, maybe even seeing a relative in another state. For me, though, this was one of the clearest demarkation points in my life. The Philippines was no longer my home. This large, cold, and alien world now was.