the road to nowhere: the zine dedicated to second generation immigrants

I have always wanted to find the right words to express my particular situation to others around me in a tangible way. However, being a second-generation immigrant comes with a unique set of challenges and finding the vocabulary to express yourself as ‘half-this half-that’ isn’t a straightforward task.  

So, instead of unpacking this box, we tape it shut and shove it under our bed. But creating The Road to Nowhere has helped me to slowly unpack these ideas, and I’m hoping it does the same for others like me too. Simultaneously, it offers the opportunity to introduce those who aren’t familiar with the experience of being a second-generation immigrant to this tumultuous, yet delightful, world. 

The zine is the lovechild of lockdown boredom and a desire to collaborate with creatives like me. I started reaching out to second-generation creatives through Instagram and websites like The Dots to see how interested people would be in contributing, and how interested they would be in helping me unpack this big scary box. After seeing the level of engagement with the prospect of such a project, I knew I had to see this plan through. There’s something very special about having your confusing little situation not only seen and heard in creative spheres but discussed, reflected, and made into something beautiful.  

I wanted to make the zine as personal and relatable as possible, almost like a collaborative diary. Mostly because the lives of children of immigrants are so often defined by others; by the media, by people who don’t know what it’s like, and by people who jump to assumptions before listening to these individuals and learning about them first.  

Therefore, throughout the pages, there are stunning, nostalgic images from our contributors of their parents and relatives in their home countries; Japan, Lagos, Baghdad, and so on, to show the breadth of experiences and the wealth of cultures amalgamated in the zine. Amongst the many pieces, we have a poem about not being able to grasp English grammar; “How do the infinitives and subjunctives ooze and roll of the tongue so easily for you?”; a personal piece about struggling with dark skin and colourism; “She, like I used to, just like so many people I love, feel an inadequacy purely because of the colour of her skin”; and a reflection on how food has bound diasporic children to their heritage; “There's something to be said for sitting outside in the summer with a plate of food on your lap and a cold can of Supermalt by your foot”.  

I feel very honoured to have had so many provoking, thoughtful, and beautiful pieces shared with me for the zine. Our fifteen contributors have been impressively dedicated to sharing their stories. I also wanted to engage with the politics of such an existence. From an interview with the hosts of the ‘Mixed.’ podcast, to an examination of rapper Lowkey’s single ‘Children of Diaspora’, our contributors have managed to put together something that is both emotional and culturally insightful.  

In some ways, too, the zine is a love letter - to my parents, to my dual-identity, and to all the kids who are aren’t white enough to be British and too British to be anything else. The zine is also dedicated to refugees and migrants who are risking their lives every day in the hopes of clean water, electricity, health care, and education.  

Proceeds from the first one hundred copies will be donated entirely to crisis aids in Beirut and Yemen through the International Rescue Committee. Any profit made after this will be used to pay our contributors.  The zine will be available to purchase soon through Instagram.

Dalia is the founder & editor of the digital platform, MISFiT , a freelance writer for various publications, and she studies English at The University of Edinburgh.