Vancouver

By Ella Hilderbrand

I have been a foreigner in every place I’ve called home. My passport is only a blurry figure that is a mandated part of my societal identity, but it doesn’t help me define who I am at all. 

I packed up my life in two duffle bags and a suitcase and crossed into yet another land. They only speak one of the tongues I wrap myself in. Along with my bags, I packed every thought, memory, reminder, and question as to why I was moving so far in an attempt to achieve so much. Full of gratitude and fear of the privilege and responsibility, I stepped in alone. 

I never felt homesick, but I yearned for a familiar touch in moments of weakness. I never felt alone, or sad. It was a new description of desire. Desire for a place I knew I’d never return to. My bedroom changed and renovated, I will never return to the same place again. I left my home in August, not realising I wouldn’t see it again until it was set up and decorated for Christmas. Little moments with great meaning are forever slipped away. I will never be back for another birthday, or hang up decorations on our family tree for the holidays. I won’t wake up to my mum downstairs making coffee, or my dad’s loud laugh on a business call. I won’t feel the shaking of the floor when my brothers fight, or the sound of the candle downstairs crackling. I won’t feel the Texas heat again, or see the dust on the dark hard oak floors. 

I still long for Germany, more now than I used to. I am in a constant search to connect with souls I have never met, and those I have never loved. Fear has left my body, like an old friend walking out the door. 

I wake in the night in arms that aren’t my own, restless or rested. I let the rain soak into my skin to remind myself I am a vessel that can hold. An immigrant and an immigrant daughter, words I didn’t know would be used to mark me into a box. A first generation of many, like a jack of trades but I know nothing I have mastered. 

I know I have mastered the understanding in the reason why I am here. Not only to start and create a new life, but honour my family. Honour the sacrifices. Honour the good, in an attempt to erase the bloodstains off of my family line. I am the first of many, born to water down the mistakes of those who came before me. 

It does not feel like a burden, but rather a responsibility. I know I will do that here. I will erase, I will rebuild the foundation. I am terrified but I am not afraid. I will not bow my head, even if it makes me bleed out. I will create my own calling, my own identity. I will not be sorry, or humble myself before opportunity. 

I won’t mind being bold, or calling out treason and absurdity. Consciously leaving everything I grew to know was a sacrifice precontracted to my decision to leave. 

My active decision, and one I must complete with my whole being. I cannot fail, it is not a choice. I will create a goodness that will be born in me and will be reborn in those after me. I will touch with gentleness and leave an imprint. 

I will carry those who love me with me, and fight through every wall necessary. I must subside the fear of “what if” and the possibilities of futures or paths that could’ve been. Every choice and idea I have breathed into life has brought me here. 

I will not let it bring me or others down. I will not disappoint those who are counting on me. I will pick up others and remember to bring up myself from the deep end when I feel I am drowning. I will continue on. 

I will keep my head up and my mind strong, for I was carved in determination to create life.

By Ella Hilderbrand