When I was seven years old, I went back to Taiwan for my grandfather’s funeral. I didn’t return for more than twenty years. (3/7)
In the meantime, I denied my Asian identity, pretended my heritage didn’t exist, and did everything I could to fit into a world mostly populated by people who didn’t look like me. (4/7)
When I finally returned to Taiwan with my father as an adult, I saw that I had been denying an essential part of who I was. And just as he shared his story with me, I wanted to share it with the world. (5/7)
I visited Taiwan again and again. I began learning Mandarin. I tried to make up for lost time. (6/7)