Alaina Zhang, a student at Stanford University, explores her feelings of nostalgia in her column “Nostalgic Thoughts.” Reflecting on her experiences as a first-generation immigrant to Canada, she articulates the complex emotions tied to her childhood in Wuxi, China, where she lived until the age of eight. Zhang’s writing provides insight into the longing for a life that exists in her memories, a sensation that often emerges unexpectedly whether she is alone or surrounded by others.
Zhang’s concept of “immigrant nostalgia” resonates deeply with her, capturing the essence of her yearning for the past. This feeling manifests in moments of profound loss, prompting her to imagine a childhood that could have been had she never left China. The memories of her early life are rich and vivid, filled with experiences that shaped her identity. These memories include the warmth of family gatherings, the routine of breakfast with her grandparents, and the sights and sounds of her hometown.
In her narrative, she describes the close-knit family dynamics typical of many Chinese households, where grandparents play a significant role in raising children. Zhang recalls being enveloped in love and care, a stark contrast to her new life in Canada. After relocating, she found herself in a foreign environment, where she interacted primarily with her parents and felt the weight of their expectations. This shift, she notes, marked her transformation from a child surrounded by relatives to an introvert navigating the complexities of a new culture.
Immigrant nostalgia intertwines with what Zhang identifies as “second-generation immigrant nostalgia.” This phenomenon refers to the longing for a life that children of immigrants have never experienced. As she reflects on her past, she grapples with her identity and the question of what might have been had she remained in Wuxi. She wonders who she would have become had she retained her Chinese name and heritage instead of adopting “Alaina.”
Zhang’s nostalgia often leaves her feeling disconnected from her current life in Canada. With memories of her childhood in China fading, she experiences a longing for a reality that never transpired. While she cannot pinpoint what specifically dissatisfies her about her Canadian life, the feeling of not living in Wuxi lingers. Even simple interactions with classmates can trigger reflections on her past and the life she left behind.
In a poignant metaphor, she likens nostalgia to the taste of candy sealed in a beautiful glass bottle—appealing yet unattainable. The memories she cherishes become luxuries, only to be experienced during summer vacations back to China. As she listens to Mandarin and Cantonese pop music, she connects with emotions that resonate deeply but often remain unshared in her current social environment.
Through her column, Zhang invites readers to understand the complexities of immigrant nostalgia and the bittersweet feelings that accompany it. Her story serves as an exploration of identity, belonging, and the enduring impact of one’s roots. As she navigates life in Canada, the echoes of her childhood continue to shape her experiences and reflections, reminding her of the intricate tapestry of her past.
Ultimately, Zhang’s journey highlights the need for a broader understanding of immigrant experiences, particularly the nuanced feelings of nostalgia that accompany the transition from one culture to another.
