Being a first generation anything comes with consequences. One foot in one culture while the other foot is stuck in the past. It's like a rope attached to the waist. One side being held by parents, family, the past and the other, equally steadfast in strength and mindset, being held by friends, new family, and the future. Sometimes, with a stroke of luck, the cultures match up and one finds themselves content, at peace. Most of the time, realistically, that isn't the case. Most of the time, it is almost as if both cultures were made to be enemies, made to be the exact opposite of the other. See, this doesn't only happen in culture with countries, but even at schools. Different school cultures clash when the quote on quote new kid enters the building which is why I'm convinced everyone can relate. The structures, leniency, and help once given a year beforehand changes as each of us grow older. However, in reference to this tale, being the child of an immigrant, refugee, or migrant holds its own special sort of consequences. People view you as exotic, helpless, or dangerous. They connect you to the stereotypes of the past and judge you before you open your mouth to say, "Salam." Peace. A greeting in this tale that will be used as frequently as one says lit or even a word as simple as I. Now, before you decide this isn't the tale for you. Maybe it's the unfamiliar term or the fear of how close this word sounds to all of those misconceptions you've kept. I dare you to read a chapter even if it is only for the simple reason of fulfilling this dare. Even if you are completely against every word written here, I dare you. Gain a bit of knowledge guys because this very book can change your opinion on everything. There, have I hooked you just yet?