My family and I immigrated from China in 1995 when I was 20 years old. I made new friends in my English classes who were older and wiser: they introduced me to the Canadian lifestyle. They helped me adjust and were welcoming of newcomers because most of them were once new to Canada themselves. It was helpful and comforting to have this mutual understanding of such a strange life transition.
One of the most difficult adjustments I had to make upon coming to Canada was learning English, especially cooking ingredients. I pursued my interest in cooking, so it was important that I understood what the recipes called for. It is safe to say that there were some accidents, but nonetheless, I knew I had to learn as I went. Once I began my job as a chef, I felt recognized and appreciated because everyone loved the food I made. In other words, I felt at home.
The racism that I experienced has somewhat changed my perception of the people in Canada. There will always be one person who is racist in one form or another, but it felt like the whole community was against me. Just because the virus was discovered in China does not insinuate that the virus is in our genetics. To me, it felt like people assumed the virus existed within us and we spread it across the world as if it was a targeted scheme. All of these attitudes toward Chinese people truly took a toll on my happiness and well-being. How was I supposed to live my life when I was afraid to walk outside because I knew I would be harassed? This is what my life was like for almost two years.