Project Proposal
It was the summer of 2010, my parents and I woke up in the early morning to the dewy 5 a.m. morning air of Taishan(台山) city in the province Guangdong, China. We carried our suitcases, each exactly 50 kilograms as my parents packed as much personal belongings in TSA-approved rectangular suitcases. The house that was lively suddenly looked empty. My mother refilled the fine china tea cup in the small shrine and dusted the buddha statue, his smile gleamed as the morning light hit his polished face. My parents exchanged a look as they looked around our house one last time, and suddenly, as if they had finished their goodbyes to their home, my mother said to me:
“It’s time to go.”
She grasped my hand on her left and on her right, the cold, heavy metal suitcase, as she watched my father take out the keys and lock the front door to our house. I hadn’t really felt anything before then, but I felt anxious as I looked at my parents’ faces, unable to understand their emotions. In my young mind, I didn’t fully grasp the idea of leaving one’s homeland; it all just seemed like a giant vacation. But for my parents, this was something more than just a vacation. This is the place where they took their first step, where they had their first kiss, and where they fell in love and along the way gave birth to me. All of the anticipation and excitement that have been building up for almost two decades of starting a brand new life in America, in this moment, seems distant compared to the very ground that they call home beneath them.
It all happened so fast as if it was just in a split second. Growing up, my mother would make me learn English and tell me that one day we would be living in America with the rest of our family. It all seemed to be a far reached dream to me. Looking back, our mundane, small, and tranquil lives were just in continuation, with only the occasional news from the immigration lawyers and phone calls from overseas relatives hinting the waves underneath the calm surface. I almost forget that it took fifteen years for our green cards to finally come through. It took a decade and a half for my parents to reunite with their siblings overseas. All the anticipations and dreams of living a better life overseas can be so easily shattered by a small phone call from the immigration lawyer and endless delays and complications. The fifteen years just kept stringing my parents along — with their hopes that one day they will be living the American dream and provide me with things they couldn’t have.
Sometimes my father would have the look of frustration after hearing news from our immigration lawyers; that is a frequent emotion I recognized early on in my life.
But now, anxiety is building as I couldn’t quite grasp the name of the emotions inhabiting my parents.
We solemnly walked out of our neighborhood as I mechanically hung on to my suitcase where we were greeted by my father’s best friend, who would be taking us to the airport. He came out of the car to greet us. Next to him, his daughter — my childhood best friend — stood and waved at me fervently. Even though it’s a school day, she had taken off school that day to be with me. My emotions of uncertainty were awash by excitement when I saw her.
I didn’t know those two hours in the car with her to the airport in Guangzhou would be the last most precious two hours we would ever have together. When I think back on my faint childhood memories in China, her shadows are everywhere in many moments. All those moments fooling around while our parents were enjoying their meal, the moments where we would walk mindlessly around our neighborhoods, and the countless times we would go to convenient stores down the street and taste the delicious yet junky snacks we got are all the moments that I treasure the most. All of the moments in which I would never get back — and one mid summer night, years later, I would wake up with tears on my face, having dreamt about it.
The sun is out now in its full glory, with rays of light piercing through the airport. All the fun chatters we had in the car were taken over by the stressful process of dragging our luggages across the airport, trying to find our international terminal check-in point. The next thing I know, amidst of all of the chaos, I found myself facing my best friend with my parents and the airport security check behind me. The world went quiet. As if it was in slow motion, I watched my father step forward and hug his best friend one last time. I stared at them and looked at my best friend. She was standing in front of me, and yet, it seemed so far away. And in that moment, my brain clicked. I finally realized what was happening — we are leaving the place that I came to call home and the city in which my parents had lived decades in.
My mother held my hand and pulled me towards the long, crowded line for the security check, but I looked back at her until the frosted glass pane finally separated me and her, until I could never see her, and until I could no longer distinguish her from the silhouettes anymore.
I couldn’t even fathom how my parents have felt. Decades ago, my 婆婆(maternal grandmother) moved from the country side to the port city of Taishan, where she would meet my 公公 (maternal grandfather). She woke up early every morning and worked hard pushing full carts carrying various delicious dim sums(点心), a traditionally Cantonese breakfast consisting of little plates, in order to provide a better life for her family.
And now, my parents are doing the same.
My goal for the project is to find out whether or not my family ever fulfilled their quest of the America dream and to what degree the hope and the expectation of what the U.S. holds has stayed true. Our push factor is definitely the American dream; we were pulled towards the better standard of living. My grandparents and parents want me to grow up in the U.S., so I can have all the opportunities they never had or could not fulfill because they had to postpone school for work. I have good knowledge of our journal, and together with pieces from my family members, I want to figure out the full story.
Interview questions:
What’s your name?
How long have you been in the U.S.?
How long did your visa and green card process take?
How difficult was the immigration process?
How is life here in the U.S. different from China?
Do you think your life quality here is better than before?
Do you believe in the American dream, or do you think it is dead?
What were your expectations about the U.S.?
To what extent do you think you have succeeded in your expectations?
Do you miss “home”?
