In 2006, before I was born, my father, a Ghanaian man born and raised, won a ticket to the US and a fortune in a random lottery. My father doesn't speak much so the details remain sparse, but he came to the country on his own, immigrating to Queens, New York, with the intention of making it big. He was sold on the ideology of the "American Dream." In this safe is the money he won, along with the most important things to him, like my childhood photos, which were sent to him halfway across the world since I was still a child and wouldn’t join him until I was 9.  After moving to the land of opportunity, the fear of uncertainty still lingered. This safe symbolized a last-ditch effort, a final stand. His plan was to make it on his own, and if he were to ever dip into the safe to take out money it would signify loss, a failure to achieve the American dream sold to him. I am Ghanaian, from a proud heritage with a knack for creating challenges where none exist.  So, even after 19 years in this country, the money has only been touched to be moved from the old safe to this newer one.  We conquered the old safe after 10 years, and we will conquer this one too. As long as it remains closed, it means we are doing fine. Today, this safe stands as a symbol of my culture’s knack for turning any situation into a challenge.  It now stands, covered in dust, marked with my little sister’s playful pencil scratches, quietly reminding us that we are fine.

– NY

Relationship:  Im/migrant who arrived as a child Im/migrant who arrived as a child