We Are the World

This was our first class assignment, in September, at the beginning of Fall semester, a “show-& -tell” with the prompt: Choose an object from your personal or your family past that represents something important to you and helps us to know where you come from. We were all strangers, getting to know each other and to know New York better. The students were freshmen in collage, barely 18 years old, a couple just 17. Most of them, first generation native New Yorkers, with roots in Albania, Azerbaijan, Bangladesh, Burkina Faso, China, Dominican Republic, Guyana, Honduras, India, Jamaica, Pakistan, Poland, Puerto Rico, Uzbekistan, and Venezuela. They brought photos from travels, treasured gifts, mementos of love of sports, symbols of small achievements and huge losses. Here, a lightly abbreviated version of students’ presentations. Together these ordinary objects and photos compose an extraordinary collage of experiences and connections. One college classroom. Our wide amazing world.

GD

The object I think that describes me and where I come from is my puzzles. I have around 100 different puzzles ranging from normal to three dimensional. I started building puzzles from a young age but then stopped for a while. Over the pandemic, I returned to building puzzles; it helps me relax when I am stressed, and I realized that it actually helps me concentrate better. My family is always talking about me and my puzzles, and they are not surprised when I buy a new one. A puzzle is like me since it consists of many pieces that have to be put together to form the full picture, just like how I am made up of many different things that make me the person I am. Daisy

This is a polaroid of me and my three cousins: the oldest is 24 years old and recently married, but always makes time for the rest of us; the second oldest is 19, together with his sister who is my age (18), and then me! Fun fact about the cousin who is my age: as children we always wanted to go to the same school, but never got to. Now, we both attend City College, fulfilling our oldest childhood dream. My extended family is scattered all over the United States and Pakistan (Chicago, Texas, and Karachi), which makes it hard for everyone to be in the same place at the same time. The cousins in the picture are the people I spent most of my childhood with, living together or spending the summers with each other at one of our relatives’ houses. They’ve been an essential part of my life, contributing lessons I’ve carried with me throughout every stage of my life. I know I can always lean on them for support, in my happiest moments and even more when I’m struggling. Wafa

This is the Samsung phone that helped me get through the COVID-19 pandemic. During a time when the whole world was on lockdown, distanced from their loved ones and forced to spend time in isolation, this phone got me through the solitude and brought me closer to my friends. Thanks to this device I further developed my interest in video games, playing Call of Duty and Cyber Hunter. I gained a new perspective on films, practicing movie marathons with my friends on Zoom. This phone also served as my personal vlog, documenting all the memories of these times: from recording the first at-home COVID test to vlogging the day when I impulsively decided to lighten my hair with hydrogen peroxide and baking soda. I know that bringing a phone to the show-and-tell could be cliché considering how attached we are nowadays to electronic devices, but this Samsung saved my sanity. Anna

This is my bat. When the professor asked me to think of an object that represents my culture, the first thing I thought of was this bat. I wouldn’t use the word traditional to describe it, but whenever family that I don’t know well comes over, we play a match for fun; the interest that we always have in common is cricket. The bat has a sticker of the Guyana flag. I have no clue where we got that sticker from. My dad just had it one day, and we figured that the bat would be the best place for it. The bat was so overused that the grip fell off, so we had to wrap the handle with electrical tape, and that worked pretty well. Also, if you look closely, you notice that the corners at the bottom are rounded. The bat wasn’t like that originally. I have this habit of tapping the bat on the ground when I’m holding it, and I did it so much that the corners started to chip and became rounded. Nathaniel

I brought an Albanian sports jersey and Pakistani bangles, which together represent my dual identity as a Pakistani-Albanian. Thinking about this assignment, I struggled to decide which single item to bring because two cultures have been equally essential to my upbringing. Ultimately, I decided to bring two objects because they represent two sides that shaped who I am today: from family traditions and the foods I eat to the clothes I wear and the holidays we celebrate. These objects show my personal connection to both Pakistan and Albania. Bringing both helps me embrace and celebrate my diverse identity, rather than limiting myself to one side of my heritage. Enaiyah

For our “show and tell” I decided to bring a necklace that is very special to me and that I eventually gifted to my sister. My sister immigrated to America from Jamaica just last year, so even though we knew of each other and texted over whatsapp we never actually met in person until recently. On whatsapp, I noticed that she often posted things referring to the moon. I found it relatable because I love all things related to the moon and the ocean. This necklace was one of the first few things I bought for myself with money I saved, so it was very dear to me. However, when my sister came to New York, I understood that she probably felt vulnerable and a little lonely finding herself in an entirely new environment. I gave her this necklace as a sign that I’d always be there for her. She will always have a sister in me. Shalyssa

When I came to the United States from Venezuela eight years ago, life kind of pushed me to grow fast. Taking care of my siblings made me feel like an adult overnight, even if l wasn’t ready for it. That’s when Balu came in; my neighbor gave it to me as an act of kindness, and soon he became more than just a stuffed animal. At night, as I created voices for him with the sound of my voice, Balu would come alive. To my siblings and me, he was a grandpa, 236 year old (in bear years), wise and calm. He only appeared when it was dark, talking to us and making us feel safe. He never changed, always stayed the same age, and always offered us the same comfort.  But I changed, I grew older, and Balu had to say goodbye. I stopped making his voice, and he no longer was there for the three little kids sleeping in the same bed, which back then seemed huge to us. I still miss him, sometimes more than I expected. Now being in college, I look back and realize how quickly time went by and how something so simple can help you to find your place in the world.  Vicky

It is a flat leather cap that was handmade for me by my grandfather, who immigrated from Uzbekistan to the United States, when I was only 4 months old. To me it’s more than a piece of clothing or an accessory; it convinces me to continue making things that are beautiful and have some tangible use. I hope to pursue this through my career in engineering and my volunteer activities. The cap keeps me also connected to an older time (not many would wear it nowadays) and to the deep tradition as I blaze a path in the USA.  Jonathan

When I was a young child, my father bought a DVD of the movie Cars from a store near his workplace. The moment I finished watching the film, a three-year-old me fell in love with its protagonist: the cocky racecar Lightning McQueen. Soon after, my mother gave me a toy version of Lightning McQueen, and I recreated nearly every scene from the movie. I carried that toy everywhere; if you look at any photo of me from that time, it was always in my hand. After school, I would spend hours pushing it down ramps, staring at its shiny red paint, and at family functions I cried if I wasn’t allowed to bring it. Though I eventually outgrew the obsession, I still cherish that toy car as an integral part of my childhood. It served as a placeholder for the friends I struggled to make as a child.  Growing up in a small family, I often felt lonely, and that toy gave me comfort and company. Now, years later, I watch my two younger brothers, born long after my obsession had passed, play with these toy cars with the same enthusiasm and passion that I once had. I take pride in knowing that the little toy car’s legacy has not ended but merely changed hands.  Tajrian

This is the first crochet clothing item I ever made. I have been crocheting since the 6th grade, but usually I made only small accessories such as bags or scarves. I have always wanted to crochet clothes but was not sure if I could successfully create my own pieces. I made this sweater in my high school sophomore year by following a youtube tutorial. I did not buy yarn for this sweater, but used any I could find at home, hence its varying shifts in color. Crochet has always been a way for me to clear my mind and pacify my anxieties. Whenever I am nervous, I tend to mess around with hands. Crocheting gives my hands an outlet to release any tension. Since this first project, I have made several clothes. However, this piece is still my favorite and holds special meaning to me. Rafeea

Basketball is who I am. Its scuffs and faded lines reflect the countless hours of dribbling, shooting, and pain. It is the story of early mornings, late nights, and the drive that built my discipline. I was hungry by myself and tomorrow came. To me, the ball is more than just a game—it’s a reminder of where I came from, the challenges I overcame, and the passion that continues to shape who I am today. Yassin

This is a picture of my first college level computer science class. I took it, when I was still in high school, my senior year. Our instructor, Dr. O’Brien, got his PhD in linguistics from MIT. I was the only girl in the class and the only person without any experience with coding. The stakes were high; I had to do well, no exceptions. The first day was nerve wracking, I didn’t know what to expect and everyone else had some prior knowledge of coding and certain topics. As a first-generation student and as a south Asian, it made me feel as if I didn’t belong in the class. I was experiencing firsthand imposter syndrome. I blink an eye a bit later, and there I see myself in the middle of the photo, sitting on a chair, surrounded by wonderful and very intelligent people who helped me throughout the course. We worked together on assignments, projects, and homework. Huge face palm, I know. I blink another time, and there I see myself at the end of senior year, waving farewell to all the juniors who were still enrolled in the class. I almost dropped out of that class, but I’m so glad I didn’t. It was worth much more than an A. It was a memorable experience worth treasuring forever. Amna

This is Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky. The book was a gift from my Russian language teacher back in Moscow, who was also my mentor. I couldn’t study this novel with him as I was leaving for the United States, but I was able later on to read it and explore on my own.  The book was not only an interesting and educational reading for me, it became kind of a metaphor for my own journey. There might be a lot of different challenges in a new place, but it is important to keep thinking, learning, and acting ethically. This book connects me with my roots and reminds me about an important person in my life. Ilya

A hat is a visually simple object. You wear it on your head, and its signage announces that you’re a Yankee fan. Mine isn’t so simple. It says, “Westchester County Parks,” and it tells you where I’m from and explains some of my past.  As one of the rare City College students who live in Westchester, I can testify that it is a different world than New York City. Even something as basic as traffic patterns and parking, the neighborhoods, and perhaps especially the parks are very different. For all 17 (almost 18) years of my life I’ve lived in the same apartment – in Westchester County, explored the same parks – in Westchester County, and have had a great experience – in Westchester County. Now, it is time to transition my life to this new NYC experience, where my mom can no longer drive me places and where I can simply hop a fence to get to school. Nicholas

This photo presents one of the most important moments of my childhood that combined physical activity (dance) and my culture. I am a daughter of two Polish immigrants who, when young, came on their own to the United States in search of a better life for me. I’m grateful that I had the opportunity to represent my culture through dance. My middle school offered “Krakowianki” classes, teaching Polish folk dance. I enrolled with two of my best friends (who are my friends to this day). We practiced after school twice a week, learnt traditional dances such as the “Mazurek,” and performed them at different events. I also went to a secondary language school where we studied Polish geography, history, and grammar. I was able to learn how to write, read, and speak correctly, which allowed me to communicate better when I visited my family in Poland. New York City is such a beautiful mix of different cultures and ethnicities, and I love learning more about mine. Zuzia

This shell is meaningful because it was made by my parents, who created one like this for every of my siblings. My name inscribed on the shell represents my Bangladeshi identity. What makes it even more special is that the shells are a souvenir from our trip to Bangladesh. It was the first time since my birth that we went back to our country. I think about all the beaches we went to, the lakes we fished at, and generally the beautiful scenery Bangladesh had to offer. When I look at the shell, I remember my parents’ thoughtfulness, the bond I share with my siblings, and a connection with my roots. Mohammed

I am a passionate fisherman. As a child, I used to go fishing every autumn at Montague with my dad to catch the fall migration of stripers and bluefish. My first-grade year, we headed down as usual and started to fish towards dusk. We did not catch a thing. A man positioned further out on the rocks than us was catching fish nonstop. Over the course of the evening, he probably caught 40 fish. I forgot my own fishing and watched in awe. When it got dark, the man finally quit. As he walked by, he handed me the lure he caught all those fish on and said, “Keep it for good luck.” I have kept it to this day as a memory of the greatest fishing performance I have ever seen. Kai

I brought a photo of our family in Versailles. We visited in the summer of 2023, and to this day, it’s the best thing I’ve experienced. In Indian culture, your family – immediate (mother, father, and siblings) as well as extended (grandparents, cousins) – is extremely important. They’re constantly a part and a priority of your life. In this photo, my maternal grandparents were visiting from India, and despite not seeing us for more than once a year, they were incredibly kind and loving. I’m not sure who I would be without my family’s support, so I believe they are a crucial part of my identity. I have another reason for choosinng this photo  as especially meaningful. I love learning about topics that fascinate me, and before travelling, I was still searching for that one thing that I could explore forever. In Versaille I fell in love with history and understood myself and my interests better than I had in the past. Krisha

A pen my sister-in-law brought me as a gift represents well who I am and where I come from. The word Honduras printed on it reminds me that no matter where I go, my country will always be a part of me. This pen tells the story of my past, my struggles, my resilience, and the lessons I have learned along the way. It reminds me of my family, their sacrifices, and the culture that has shaped my values. When I hold it in my hand, I feel a connection to my roots and a sense of responsibility to honor them in everything I do. Whether I am taking notes in school, reflecting on my experiences or making plans for my future, the pen is a symbol of perseverance and hope. A small object that represents my big journey and inspires the person I am becoming today. Annie

My sketchbook is very personal to me because drawing has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. Some of that comes from my dad, who has always been into video games, comics, and who used to draw himself. That kind of rubbed off on me, and I started sketching when I was really young. Growing up I didn’t have friends at all. I was super outcasted on the grounds of being “weird”. I got bullied a lot, and drawing was the one thing that comforted me. It kept my mind focused on something rather than just wonder why people didn’t like me. Things started to change in middle school, where I made my first real friends through art. From that point on, drawing became a big part of my identity and gave me a community. (Especially since I got really really into this video game Undertale and this webcomic called Homestuck that further pushed me into wanting to make my own creations, therefore I started to take art seriously.) Most of the friendships I’ve built, the worlds I’ve imagined, and the characters I’ve created started with putting my mind onto drawing something. Ann Marie

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Authors: Amna, Ann-Marie, Anna, Annie, Daisy, Enaiyah, Ilya, Jonathan, Kai, Krisha, Mohammed, Nathaniel, Nicholas, Rafeea, Shalyssa, Tajrian, Victoria, Wafa, Susan, and Yassin