“Ever get inverse impostor syndrome? That feeling of being imposed upon by a fake world. If as immigrants we don’t assimilate insofar as to obey the economy of personhood modeled toward success in this new place—if we simply remain our odd selves—then we are taken less seriously, considered undeveloped—uncosmopolitan. After all, no one knows Ondrej Warhola, only his famous son. I knew I was supposed to throw away all my old stuff, or hang it up in the museum as an artifact of a surpassed point of origin. But what if that origin never left me—what if it wilded inside me like a promise, a flag.”

— from DEB BINCH