‘Why I always win at Scrabble, even though I'm Kurdish.’
Even before Tahsim Durgun could ride a bike, he had to decipher the electricity bill for his mother, accompanied her to doctor's appointments as an interpreter and read ALDI catalogues at the kitchen table. His later career as a German teacher was already mapped out. How convenient that he can now hide well camouflaged from the AfD's deportation fantasies at the university, between business-school students and iced-coffee-wielding Claudias. A privilege that is denied to his Kurdish mother, at whose kitchen table Tahsim returns every evening.
Tahsim's situation is shared by many young people with migrant roots who have to take responsibility for their parents at an early age while also finding their place in an often hostile country. With razor-sharp intelligence, great eloquence and cynical humour, Tahsim Durgun reflects on how we all want to live together – with and without a history of migration.
‘The more lovingly and funny Tahsim talks about his mother, the more I miss my own. But in a good way.’ Felix Lobrecht