[As I do the Racism series, I will occasionally include off-topic posts as little breathers.]
Sometime during my years in elementary school, my dad was estranged from us. There was some issue with the status of his immigration visa, and it took over a year to resolve. For some, this might sound routine; however, for us, it was a very stressful and painful experience. Not only were we unsure if he would ever be able to come back to the States, but we were also not very well-off.
My mom suffered tremendously that year trying to put food on the table. Since the separation was unexpected, she had to scramble to find a job in a country where she could barely speak the language. Thankfully, a church friend offered my mom a wage for sewing little clothing pieces like socks and cuffs. But to make even a little money, she had to sew thousands of these things. My mom shares with me that she spent many sleepless nights sewing sock after sock; oftentimes, she fell asleep at the sewing machine exhausted. I still have many memories of my Continue reading