Art Class

Making friends as an immigrant was one of the hardest challenges my 10-year-old self had to face. It wasn’t the language barrier or my tendency to keep to myself. In fact, most of my classmates spoke Russian, and we came from similar backgrounds. The only difference between us is that they had known each other their whole lives. I was a stranger.

Back home, I enjoyed talking, easily got along with everyone, and was able to express myself without being judged. So being rejected so abruptly felt isolating. I would never eat lunch in the cafeteria, instead, I would spend time helping my art teacher in her younger classes. There I met my first friend. It was hard for us to communicate because we both came from different backgrounds, but we shared something so special that it was beyond words.

Graduating from elementary school, I had two very close friends, and if they hadn’t reached out to me then, I would never have overcome my fear of trusting new people.

This year I keep thinking of the amount of support and love I received from them, and it brings warmth to my heart. I remember celebrating my first Christmas and Thanksgiving with one of my later friends and her family. Recently, we have rekindled our friendship, and I’m forever grateful for what she has done for me.