And no, 30 isn't too young to write a memoir.
Mary left Ukraine when she was 8 years old to escape a violent uprising. She never saw her parents again.
"At first, I was so scared because we had no one."
Ajay Virmani's perseverance to forge his own path in a new and unfamiliar country is a story that resonates with many new Canadians.
“My children are getting the benefit of what me and my wife have worked toward.”
The show premiers Monday, Oct. 10, 9 p.m. ET
I made a choice to abandon learning Vietnamese as a kid. Part of it was me being lazy. I didn't want to spend Saturdays inside another school. Three hours learning about the Vietnamese alphabet can seem like prison when you're six or if you're 12. But another part of it was me wanting to fit in. To stay at home. To watch weekend morning cartoons. To have stuff to talk about during recess come Monday. I made a choice to turn my back on part of my identity. In return, I got to fit in within a multi-ethnic schoolyard in a suburban Ontario neighbourhood circa 1995. Today, that decision would make a majority of Canadians pretty happy.
My mom grew up in the 1970s in Pakistan, at a time when women -- if they studied past high school -- were expected to get married right after college. What my mother did was very different. And the story's best told with this photo of my 25-year-old mom working as a chemist in Pakistan. The only woman among men.
There are only a couple things that are typically Argentinean that my dad taught me about: their love for dulce de leche (a delicious treat I use in baking), their obsession with soccer (although my dad was more of a basketball fan) and their love for meat -- specifically, steak. That's it. That's all I know. A huge chunk of me is missing and I don't know if I'll ever find it.
Five simple words some kids — and parents — don't hear often enough.