Sofija Stefanovic - Alien Nation: 36 True Tales of Immigration

Most of the pieces in this anthology were performed on Munsee Lenape land. We acknowledge the Lenape people: the first inhabitants and caretakers of the unceded land of present-day New York City. We acknowledge the Lenape peoples painful history, honor their ancestors, and pay respects to their past, present, and future.

Several pieces were performed on the traditional lands of the Wurundjeri Woi-wurrung and Boon Wurrung people of the Kulin Nation of present-day Melbourne, Australia. We acknowledge the traditional owners painful history, and we honor and pay respects to Elders past, present, and future.

New York City is famously packed with immigrants, with stories that span the world. The Statue of Liberty lives here, holding her torch in welcome. But being newin New York or any other placeis complicated. Immigrant stories, like the waters Lady Liberty watches, are deep and complex.

Imagine yourself a few miles north of the statue, in Joes Pub: a plush and cozy space, with cabaret seating and one of the best-known stages in New York City. People sit at little tables drinking cocktails or munching on fries as the lights dim for This Alien Nation, our celebration of immigration.

As host, I usually kick off the evening by fiddling with the mic stand while explaining my accent (the result of traveling back and forth between the former Yugoslavia and Australia as a kid). I introduce the guests, who are here to tell stories of immigration. Each show has a different lineup, and the crowd never knows what they will hear. We could be taken to a wedding in Bangladesh (as told by Abeer Hoque), to an Alexandrian garden half a century ago (courtesy of Andr Aciman), or a refugee camp in Gaza (recalled by Maysoon Zayid).

For me, our show has always been a balm, a way of feeling less lonely. Guestssome of them well known, others regular people (read: fascinating people)share moments from their lives, reminding us that immigration is not simply a word thrown around in the news (simplified to something you are for or against), but a worldrich with unique voices, perspectives, and experiences. Immigration is throbbing with talent and potential. My cocreators, Michaela McGuire and Trish Nelson, and I invite guests from New Yorks diasporas, the literary, comedy, arts, music, and activist worlds.

Our stage at Joes Pub represents my favorite face of New York: a city of diverse people and storiesstories including the one where Sonia Manzano was honored as godmother at the Puerto Rican Day Parade, Tanass olfactory field recording (New Yorks scent: turmeric, coconut, tropical fruits, smoke), Suketu Mehtas brush with the notorious Punjabi Boys Network, or the running jokes of Mazin Sidahmeds Family WhatsApp group. Our talented producer, Shannon Manning, noted that the people watching the show had fascinating stories of their own, so often someone from the crowd gets onstage to share, too. At the end of the show, we leave Joes Pub having heard something new, our worlds slightly bigger as a result.

One of our regular audience members was the publisher Judith Curr, who was excited to send these stories from the stage into the world. I started putting this anthology together during the lonely year of 2020. For a while, New York City, one of the liveliest places on Earth, became the epicenter of a pandemic. Live shows were canceled. We were alienated from one another. One of my great privileges was listening to recordings from our past shows and compiling the pieces that would go in this book. As I listened, I pretended I was under the warm lights of Joes Pub, celebrating immigration, surrounded by a lively audience, ice clinking in glasses.

And the pieces were so good! Tatenda Ngwaru recounting her parents trying to protect their intersex child made me cry, as I had hearing it onstage. Xochitl Gonzalezs description of cursed women waiting for a limpia in the Bronx reminded me of the strange and comforting nature of diaspora. The image of Aparna Nancherlas father ordering a pizza in a new land and getting it wrong is as familiar in my mind as if I had been there. These pieces will stay with me forever and offer me comfort and family when Im feeling alone.

A second joy of putting this book together was contacting our guests again to ask them to adapt their pieces for a reading audience. Despite the vulnerable nature of putting ones life on the page, the contributors rose to the occasion and editing the pieces with them was a delight.

Most of the pieces in this book were first told onstage at Joes Pub. Several come from This Alien Nation shows we did overseas (Agustinus Wibowos story was told at Indonesias Ubud Writers and Readers Festival, and Alice Pung, Maria Tumarkin, and Khalid Warsame performed in Australia, at the Wheeler Centre in Melbourne). A few pieces were written especially for this book, in the hope that they can be performed onstage in the future.

I am honored that our guests have shared their stories. The pieces express the opinions and experiences of their authors, and as you will see, they span comedy and tragedy.

I hope this book thrills and inspires you, no matter where you are from. And I hope it offers community. I imagine people like usthose who have felt alienreading it and seeing themselves in some of the stories. As a confused immigrant kid who loved books, I wish Id gotten to read this collection and had seen that there is space in our world for many voices. My kid-self would be delighted to know something she wrote is in this book (though the piece itselfabout giving birthwould horrify her).

Ive grouped the pieces into show-length segments, curating them as I would our events, in case you want to fix yourself a drink or snack and pretend to be in the audience. Or you can dip into the book any way you likethe pieces stand on their own.

Thank you for joining our celebration of immigration. Please get comfortable and put your hands together for our guests!

Sofija Stefanovic

A teen in 1990s Harlem answers a call from her jailed brother; a Polish music student seeks adventure in New York; a disconnected familys WhatsApp group replaces a dinner table; a Libyan refugee who made it to the US against the odds reflects; an immigrant mother enrolls her anxious child in Toastmasters

Stories by Cleyvis Natera, Danusia Trevino, Mazin Sidahmed, Hass Agili, and Aparna Nancherla

Summerand with no AC in our Harlem apartment, the days stretched hot and humid and endless and boring because we were supposed to stay put, not hang downstairs during Mamis twelve-hour shifts as a home attendant. Our stepfather had finally gotten a job in a restaurant somewhere far away in Queens. He was gone most of the day, most of the night, and we preferred it that way.

There was only peace when he wasnt there.

That summer, in particular, it felt so good to be free. Our older sister, Shany, had been kicked out and lived with friends in the Bronx, and if Mami was in a good mood, we sometimes got to visit her on weekends. An older stepsister had also been kicked out. We never heard or saw much of her, which was fine by us since shed always been a snitch. Lindo, our older brother, had gotten locked up, was somewhere upstate. So, out of seven children, only us four youngest kids remained. Me the oldest, at sixteen, and Evelyn, my sister, the youngest at fourteen, with a pair of stepsiblings stair-stepping between us. Wed perfected pancakes, Bundt cakes, donuts. We hung out of the fire escape window, looked through those bars, bopping our heads to the merengue booming out of double-parked cars. We tried to remove the child-locks from the other windows, so we could all hang our heads out but we failed, and instead had to push each other out of the way, to feel whatever breeze happened by, carrying the deliciousness of fried pastelitos being sold out of hot dog carts.