Just Passing By

I sit in front of my computer at work, marveling at how quiet it is. The nearest soul is two cubicles up. And all I can hear is the tapping of the keyboard. It is Friday, and it’s been two weeks since the lay off.

I was angry when my co-workers were let go. I was scared when I wondered when my turn will be. I stressed, worried and lost sleep when I had to take on more responsibilities; to take on jobs that I don’t have the skill for. I was lonely for the friends I can no longer hang out with in the office kitchen. I was uplifted when I talked to my family, especially my Dad, who thinks the world of me, like I can never make any mistake.

I’ve been through a roller coaster ride. My heart is tired.

But I can’t complain. Whenever I think of the millions of people who’ve become victims of this recession, the people who now rely for food stamps, those who’ve lost their homes, those who took their own lives from despair, I know I am immensely blessed.

This coming Tuesday marks our 4th anniversary here in the US. And the journey has been amazing as it is humbling. Now I can say for sure that there is no menial job that I won’t take on. No homesickness that a fone card or email can’t cure. Most of all, I have earned the right not to take crap from anyone. My brown skin works for me both ways. I am still tan in the winter when everyone is paper white which makes me an envy of the whole white race. But it also makes me stand out from the crowd, which isn’t a good thing. Like all immigrants, I had my share of discrimination.

I may be an immigrant, but I never, ever for once, asked the government for any dole outs. I came here with the right papers.  I’ve worked as soon as I got my driver’s license. I paid my taxes dutifully. I abide by all the rules. Heck, I don’t even have a speeding ticket.  I donate to local charities even though I wish I could just ship those to my people in the Philippines. I have as much right to be here as every outstanding citizen.

I claim my place in the sun.