About 10 years ago, my grandparents took me to a rock carving festival in Nevada City. It was the second time I was there. The first time, I didn’t carve any rocks, but this time, my grandparents decided I was old enough. My dad, who was also there, also went to the same festival when he was little, right after he migrated from Maine. He also carved a rock there and seeing me carve one at the same place made him happy. He migrated to California when he was 5 and one of his first memories here is the festival. Whenever he sees the rock I carved, it reminds him of coming to California, and when I see it, it reminds me of when I was little. The rock I carved was supposed to be a cave, but since I was 5 I didn't do really well.
 

– Calvin Johnson

Relationship:  Child of im/migrant Child of im/migrant