When did the word immigrant become synonymous with one kind of immigrant? When did the word immigrant immediately imply radical Islamic terrorist? (Kind of like instead of tissue we say, “Kleenex.”) Why, when America has long been defined as a melting pot, is it now trying to rebrand: “Make American great again“. Let’s bring it back to the days of Leave it to Beaver, and … Continue reading “Rebranding the Immigrant” Club
I didn’t grow up watching cartoons, even though I came to America at the prime cartoon watching age of five. In the Soviet Union I had watched Cheburashka (according to my parents) and even though I can still hum along to the theme song as intuitively as to a lifelong lullaby, I don’t have a sense of nostalgia towards the animated show. In America, Tom … Continue reading “I Don’t Like Cartoons” Club
My favorite way to eat eggs is sunny side up. I take pride in frying them into two impeccable gold domes, the whites congealed perfectly beyond the mucous texture. When I dunk dry toast into warm yolk, a satisfaction spills over me; this is my comfort food. I have been making myself eggs this way for thirty years, and every single time I crack a … Continue reading “I Caught My Father in an Affair” Club
There is nothing tackier than touristy t-shirts with locale names, glittery plastic key chains too big for use, and mini license plates, with typical names only, usually made in some less desirable third world destination. Yet, as travelers, somewhere in history, a seed was planted that we must bring a souvenir of where we visited, no matter how brief, as a memory. Perhaps a plastic … Continue reading “I Don’t Buy Souvenirs on Vacations” Club
Traveling has always occupied a huge part of my life. Not necessarily exotic, but not stoic either. I want to move, see, explore, study other locales and people. I fantasize about the time my kids are both off to college and my husband and I take off on continuous travel, with no home base, just traveling everywhere we want to visit before our time here … Continue reading “Searching for Suppressed Memories” Club
I can’t think back to a time when my feelings weren’t INTENSE. No matter what I felt, I experienced it with an exclamation point and it often swung like a pendulum between mildly euphoric and mildly depressed. I was never clinically diagnosed as bipolar because the logical part of my brain is still able to trump the spontaneous one, and seizes control no matter how … Continue reading “I Feel Intensely” Club
“What are we doing for the Fourth?” My husband asks me every year and every year I do a double-take. “The fourth of what?” I didn’t grow up celebrating The Fourth of July, and not because we weren’t glad for American independence; on the contrary, it was for this specifically that we emigrated to America and not for its famed national cuisine of hamburgers and … Continue reading “I Don’t Celebrate the 4th of July” Club
For those who don’t know Michaels, the arts and crafts store, your wallet is safer. Their slogan is “Where Creativity Happens,” but for me, it’s “Where Losing All Restraint Happens.” To my defense, I do have an art business which mandates frequent visits for necessities such as Canton art board (Made in France!), tacky glue, Swarovski crystals, jewelry beads, silver charms, and buttons. While I’m … Continue reading “I’m a Frequent Flyer at Michael’s” Club
I have this fantasy one day I will be in the elevator (or anywhere) and Russian-speaking people will talk about me without knowing I understand them and I will turn around and surprise them with my exquisite command of Russian curses. This has yet to happen. At our last Gogol Bordello concert, I found myself surrounded by fellow Russians in midlife crisis partying with this … Continue reading “Living Outside My Native Tongue” Club
Yesterday was the 37th anniversary of my immigration to America from the former Soviet Union and I forgot all about it. The date isn’t circled or marked on my calendar. Maybe my parents independently raised a shot glass toasting the memory, but I’ve gone years without noting the day. For my parents, it marked the day they started their new life but since 1979, there … Continue reading “37 Years an Immigrant” Club
When we moved to NJ from New York City (NYC) four years ago, we did so kicking and screaming (our rent increase of $1,200 forced us out). We thought this might be a “five-year plan,” which aligned perfectly with my personality as I’ve never lived anywhere for more than four years. We moved to the first building off the George Washington Bridge, which is as … Continue reading “I Used to Live in the City” Club
At the onset of food’s introduction into our lives, its primary function is to nourish us. However, somewhere down the line, it takes on a far greater role: it entertains us, comfort us, and often control us, marionette-like. Most people lug with them some “food” baggage; not just anorexics or bulimics (or women), but anyone who’s ever been on a diet. My long-term and often … Continue reading “I Hate Food” Club
If you had to pack up your life into two suitcases, what would you bring? I ponder this occasionally when I find myself using something my parents brought with them from the Soviet Union in 1979. Today I poured water into a stemmed glass adorned with a train decal. I inherited these six glasses from my mother because I had mentioned to her I liked … Continue reading “Engaging With Souvenirs from the Old World” Club
My family immigrated to America when I was almost five years old and I have few memories of my life in Kiev. I’ve recollected few stories of my childhood and those have been enough to sustain me. Big chunks of time are missing in my memories. My American husband thinks my young refugee status left me somewhat traumatized, but I disagree. He has suggested a … Continue reading “I Lost My Memories” Club
“Where are you from?” Such a basic question, and yet I stutter and exhale a deep sigh of annoyance. I clarify, “You mean where I do live now or where was I born?” To which most will reply, “I mean, what’s your nationality?” The easy answer would be, “I live in New York, but I was born in Russia.” That’s how my father would answer … Continue reading “I Have a Coin with a Dictator on it Rather than a Birth Certificate” Club
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