It was the day my grandparents were coming home from Guyana, their home country.. When my grandparents returned they presented me and my sister, with two rings. They had bought these rings on their trip and it was made by natives. They were never used, because they did not fit us. My mother told me that I would have it when I grew up, and I promptly forgot about them. A couple of years later, the container that held me and my sister’s ring fell over. We managed to recover all of the jewelry except for my ring. I was nine at the time, and my curiosity of the ring had grown just as my fingers did. Whenever I think of the ring, I am filled with the regret that I hadn’t noticed how special it was to me and my family. About 2 decades ago, my mother, 9 years old, immigrated to America as a lawful permanent resident. My grandma first immigrated here because of my grandpa’s sister, who was a citizen of America. My mother then immigrated to America as the daughter of a lawful permanent resident. I was raised in America as a citizen, but my family’s culture and history affect my life and the way I live. I feel that my ring was a representation of this, and I am saddened that such a huge part of my identity has been lost.

– Vandell Vatel

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