The accepted narrative about this immigration story is one of success, but we must not forget those who slipped through the cracks
It was the summer of 2008. I had not seen Ronald for 10 years. I had not seen him since I escaped to university and became the only one of five siblings to get a degree. I had been running away, acquiring bits of paper to prove I was not like my older brothers.
In the time since I last saw him, Ronald had been sectioned at least once, and imprisoned multiple times for petty crime. He had been in and out of rehab. This is what the paperwork of his life would show. Me? I had acquired a BA, an MA and a teaching qualification. I was also two years into a PhD. I was still running. But on that day in 2008, I acquired a piece of paper that I didn’t expect. It was our eldest brother David’s death certificate.
Continue reading...from The Guardian https://ift.tt/2ITWN10
Comments
Post a Comment