It was during Economics class in my senior year of high school that my life completely changed. While most people don’t have such an occurrence happen to them in such a dull setting, I somehow did. I was simply browsing the internet, looking at universities and their respective programs. Like any soon-to-be college student, I was picturing how I wanted my life to turn out; what my dreams would be. Particularly, I was looking for universities that offered an International Relations program that had an emphasis on the region I’m from: Kazakhstan.
I came across this one university that offered an International Studies program that had an entire program devoted to Kazakhstan.
As I sat in my chair in shock, I even noticed that they had courses in the very language of my nation and people. I kept searching for more details and information about the program and eventually came across a former professor at the institution. She was listed as a professor of the Kazakh language. The site even provided an email address. Little did I know, meeting this professor would be the beginning of a journey that would lead me to where I am today.
Being an adoptee, there was always bound to be some difficulties in understanding my background.
Growing up, I would go through different stages in my life where I would either accept or reject it. Like any adolescent, I simply wanted to grow up like everybody else. Also, being in the United States, not many people knew where Kazakhstan was - let alone what a Kazakh person was. Adding to the misconceptions, I also grew up in the era that “Borat” was released. With the only depiction of Kazakh people in the media being “Borat,” it was hard to find a hero that would help me embrace my ethnicity and race. Sure, there were a few Asian Americans in the media, but most were stereotypical, not uplifting. I also didn’t have any Kazakhs that I knew outside of the adoptees I would see at occasional reunions for other Kazakh adoptees. However, as we grew apart and went on to live our separate lives, I began feeling more and more isolated.
Growing up without an understanding of who I was as a Kazakh was not easy, even though I was still living with a loving family who embraced my Kazakh roots, and wanted me to do the same. Nevertheless, I became really close with people from families of immigrants. I saw how they would create these communities with each other that embraced who they were. It didn’t matter that they didn’t have anyone but themselves. I saw and envied their happiness and contentment.