☽ 7000 Miles
A story ~ 7000 Miles
[Why are immigrant stories so hard to talk about?]
I’ve noticed something interesting about most of my friends. Like 80% of us are actually the children of immigrants (with some being young immigrants themselves), but, we don’t talk about that at all.
There would be occasional references to one's own culture within our group, for instance, my Korean friends would comment that they prefer spicy food because they're Korean, and my Pinoy friends will share how unusually large Filipino families are. Nevertheless, there's not a lot of talk of the very thing that has made our lives in Canada possible, which is the immigration process.
Why is that?
Well, if one is starting a new life in a new country, there's bound to be struggles that reveal social problems you've only seen on TV, and never thought could be so visceral in real life. Racism, sexism, income inequality, dissonance in cultural values, immigration laws, human rights, workaholism, mental disorders, family dysfunction, new languages, new identities, new cities, and the redefinitions of what 'home' and 'belonging' really mean. All of these problems intersect to form the umbrella term "immigration issues".
Hence, the reason why talking about immigration is tough is because, well, there's a lot of hard shit to talk about. It is the story of bare-bones survival in a country full of promises, many of which the immigrants, not the country itself, would have to work to keep.
Generally, 1st and 2nd gen immigrant children aren't dissociated from these tough realities, even if we don't specifically talk about it. I think every immigrant child is familiar with the unsettling speeches from the family that usually includes the words "when we moved to [*said country*]" or "when we left [*said country*]". Those would involve a whole list of struggles that seem unfathomably horrid and determination that seems almost supernatural. Hearing my parents' stories for me, definitely felt like it could be in its own comic book. I remember at one point, I even cried over the thought of my parents fighting so much to survive here. It became the day that I started being eternally grateful to them. It also was an encouragement for me to do more chores for them without complaining, so that's a plus too haha.
Despite all this though I will say that in my own experience, even after these talks, I was still pretty sheltered from the harsh reality of being an immigrant. I am fortunate enough to have parents who are so hard-working and protective that they never brought the unrelenting blizzard of societal problems that they experience every day into our home. They preserved my innocence long enough for me to say that my childhood was stable, despite my mental health problems.
Unfortunately, I don't know if my other friends can say the same as me. Every immigrant's experience is different by a thousand margins. But, the fact that my friends are such nice people in their own way shows that I think they were given at least a handful of memories of love and stability when they were younger.
So, that begs the question, should we talk more about the legacy of immigration in my friend group?
Well, for me, I think we should because, we can't connect where our family lineage comes from, and the lives we have now without talking about how we got from point A to B. Also, many issues in our society can't be talked about without discussing immigration. Immigration is such an intersection of so many societal issues because it's about rebuilding one's life essentially. If you have to rebuild your life in a completely new place, that means you gotta go through some massive hurdles, right?
But again, my answer won't be the same for all people. Some people won't open up because the struggle of being an immigrant can be traumatizing, some people won't open up because they feel they're already "Canadian" so there's no point in talking about it, some simply don't prioritize it because they need to care about more imminent problems and the reasons could go on and on. As for casual party-talk, well, talking about immigration struggles really isn't really a pleasant conversation starter, is it?
So that brings me to this post, right now. I've decided to share this post and this rap song that speaks some personal truths about immigration trauma. I feel like I need to share how much my parents' journey has shaped my life, even if I can't talk about it at a party. It is because of my parents' determination and hospitality that I am living in a stable household where I can do my schoolwork peacefully and quietly. If they didn't face so many demons like they did, I'm not sure that I would have even started this blog in the first place.
Thank you for existing mom and dad, and thank you for my life here in Canada.
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While listening to this song:
You could look at.....how small your room is compared to the hundreds, thousands and millions of people who live in rooms just like yours. In a turbulent, constantly changing society, you have managed to maintain your little space in the world. If you maintain it well, that is an accomplishment, if you ask me.
You could be with.....the people who have helped you establish your footing in this world. Your parents, your friends, your mentors, your teachers. Or, it doesn't even have to be people, it can be objects too, like your car or work bag.
You could do something.....that helps you realize how grateful you should be to have such belongings, even if you think it's not that much. Take a minute of silence, literally, take a minute. Just close your eyes and reflect on how this one thing has always been there for you, even if you haven't realized it before. Realize how hard life would be without it.
You could eat or drink.....I think onigiri or triangle kimbap are simple and delicious snacks for gratefulness. It's easy to make at home but it can be found at an Asian supermarket or Asian convenience store.
You could remember that.....nothing is more valuable in life than love. Love is the reason why my parents got through so much, honestly. We each show love in different ways, and your way of expressing it is unique to you. Sometimes, we have to be taught how to love, and that is okay. But realize that, real love comes from within, not from others. Real love is a choice we make on our own despite the limitations that society puts on us. So choosing to love is a form of transcendence.
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