2022 What's in a Name?

"I moved for a better life for my children."

For the first time, this common refrain in immigration stories is captured in an extraordinary way: through heartfelt letters from immigrants to their children.

Our children are why a loving parent does anything. They are why we work late or work multiple jobs. They are why we stay. They are why we leave. They are why we laugh. They are why we fear. They are our reasons.

Reflective, daring, inspiring, and heartfelt, this compilation of twenty letters represents perspectives from first- and second-generation immigrants from Mexico, Nigeria, Nepal, Jamaica, Taiwan, and more. In their letters, contributors consider the future they want for their children, draw from their experiences, and confess their hopes for their future.

Available on Amazon

Some of our nighttime dreams are haunted by archetypal themes that reveal our primordial human vulnerability in an unpredictable world where safety can never be guaranteed. We plunge backwards through empty space, legs askew, in an unstoppable, uncontrollable fall. There is no one to catch us. We are utterly alone in our moment of despair and helplessness. We beg for mercy, but our pleas fall on the deaf ears of our tormentors. We awaken with a gasp, eyes wide open in terror, and consciousness pulls us back to safety.
Cambodian French artist and Sorbonne art professor Phousera Ing, known simply as Séra, has recreated this familiar dream in his memorial sculpture called The Supplicant, which stands on the plaza in front of the French Embassy in Phnom Penh. The statue evokes the very real horror of the Cambodian genocide that still haunts Cambodians today both in Cambodia and abroad and that has been passed down in one way or another to the survivors’ children and grandchildren, permeating the entire society and its diaspora.