My Own Experience with Immigration

Since my inquiry project is on immigration to the U.S., I thought I might as well share my own experience coming to America.

But first, a little introduction. I moved to the U.S. when I was around five, but before that, I was used to moving. I was born in Japan and then I moved to my parent’s hometown in China when I was almost two years old. At the time, my grandparents raised me while my parents worked in Hong Kong. I finally started living with my parents when I was four, but then my dad left to go to America because he found a job there. After a year of living in Hong Kong, my mom and I left to join my dad in America.

When I first arrived, I was met with the corn fields of Minnesota in a small town named Austin. I don’t remember much of my first day in America, but I do remember my first day of preschool. The teacher couldn’t pronounce my Chinese name, so she just pronounced it “ee-sha”, and it has been that way ever since. Now, I had lived in various Asian countries, so seeing the Caucasian teacher was a bit odd at first. It was like seeing a Chinese cartoon in real life, since most cartoons I had watched before had Caucasian characters.

I actually think moving to the U.S. made me become an introvert. I was actually pretty talkative in China, but the language barrier when I arrived in the U.S. hindered my social interactions. I turned to meticulously coloring in coloring books and was surprised when I was praised for my work. My mom had told me that the teachers in China told her that I had zero talent in art and pretty much said my drawings were hideous. Yes, Chinese teachers are quite blunt. Well, I don’t really care now because I found a talent in art that those teachers failed to see. It’s a bit far, but I guess moving to America helped me find my passion for art.