I have always appreciated my Art teacher back in middle school. He was an elderly gentleman that was kind and always carried out of date phone. I met him in the first year I had come to the United States. Back then, we only conversed a few lines as I was always reticent about my schoolwork except my artworks and couldn’t fully be comprehended what he was talking about. At that time, a smile was the only thing we shared amongst us two. The summer school was my last time spent at school, and he led us to visit an Art Museum, and we followed him somewhere to sketch from life and we also embarked on a ship that could spot the figure of the Statue of Liberty from far away.  One day, he handed me this painting as a gift, as a farewell, which I didn’t quite understand what it depicted, only the name written at the bottom. I had it hanging up to the wall beside my bed for almost two years. One day when I was cleaning my room, many of my artworks were being thrown out. That day, I discovered a sketchbook from back in my middle school and found a bunch of stuff I drew and describing sentences underneath it that once I didn’t recognize and copied it without knowing none of any meaning.  I still remember he made me promise that I would go back to see him again, showing him the work that I would accomplish after I got into high school, but ashamedly, I still haven’t managed to get this promise fulfilled.  His gift reminds me of him and it encourages me to carry on.  Hopefully, soon I will go visit him and show him how well I have done! 

– YY

Relationship:  Im/migrant Im/migrant