The Departure to New York

I came to New York almost as if I were running away. The city felt unfamiliar, even though I had lived in the U.S. before. As a child, I had lived in the suburbs with my mother, far from the city. Living with my sister now, in a place I had only known from a distance, made New York feel entirely new. Even with two years of childhood memories, returning as an adult felt like arriving in a foreign country for the first time.

I relied heavily on my sister, and I found part-time jobs to cover rent and the tuition for my portfolio program. For a full year, I worked harder than I ever had—driven by necessity, by hope, and by a quiet desperation. The places I worked gave me experiences I did not expect, both good and painful. Some memories still return as nightmares. I was often scolded simply for being young, treated as if my age erased my worth. Still, through those moments, I learned how society worked—its harshness, its demands, its strange sense of order.

As the year passed, my portfolio neared completion. And then, a single ray of light reached us—my family received notice to attend our green card interview after nine long years of waiting. Filled with excitement, I flew back to Korea immediately. For three anxious months, we lived in uncertainty, holding our breath. But in the end, our long-held hope was granted.

Not long after, acceptance letters began to arrive from several universities. And among them was the one I wanted most—Parsons. At that moment, the inferiority I had carried for so long finally loosened its grip. For the first time in years, I felt the weight lift.