I’m a second-generation Toisanese-American and proud descendant of my two immigrant grandparents. Growing up, they used to tell me stories from when they were young about what it was like to come to America. Hearing about how my grandmother escaped persecution and how my grandfather worked his way in grocery stores, farms, and even the military to build his life in America gave me a deep respect for them and for all others who took on the challenge of immigrating to this country.
Around the beginning of the summer, immigration raids were ramping up in Los Angeles. Like many others, I took to the Internet, where I saw waves of outrage — not just from Latin American communities being directly impacted, but also from Asian Americans who understood that these raids could affect all immigrants, including their own families. I was especially inspired by Asian American content creators who began sharing their families’ immigration journeys, offering support and solidarity across communities.
Their example pushed me to ask: What can I do with this platform? How can I contribute to the conversation? That’s when to start a project that would focus on documenting the immigration stories of Asian immigrants right here in San Francisco.
Over the course of the summer, I interviewed five individuals — four of them senior immigrants who’ve been in the U.S. for decades, and one young person who immigrated more recently. Their stories, which I’ve compiled on a website built by another intern (shoutout Faith!), are varied in their details, but united by shared themes of resilience, hope, and the quiet strength it takes to start over in a new country.
One woman told me about her long path to citizenship. It wasn’t until her daughter studied immigration law and got married that they were finally able to bring over the rest of the family. Another spoke of the uncertainty of seeking political asylum — how difficult it was to wait, and how she is still restricted from ever leaving the country again. Others spoke of their work, raising families, and building lives in a place that didn’t always welcome them with open arms, but one they came to love — cold weather and all.
The commonalities are what connect us — and they’re what have made the Asian American community so resilient.
What stood out to me most wasn’t how different their stories were from one another, but how familiar they felt. The people I interviewed were nurses, restaurant workers, and bankers, all with the shared struggles of living in a new country and learning a new language. As someone who grew up around first- and second-generation immigrants, these narratives echoed those of my grandparents, friends, and neighbors. And that familiarity, I’ve come to realize, is part of what makes these stories so powerful. The commonalities are what connect us — and they’re what have made the Asian American community so resilient over the nearly 200 years since the first waves of immigrants arrived during the Gold Rush.
But I also recognize that my perspective is a limited one. I’ve had the privilege of being raised in a diverse city where immigrant stories surround me. Many Americans don’t have that kind of exposure. They don’t understand the complexities — the sacrifices, the fears, the bureaucratic hoops — that define the immigrant experience. This lack of understanding breeds fear. And fear, in turn, feeds policies and rhetoric that threaten immigrant lives every day.
This isn’t new. We’ve seen it before: from the era of “paper sons and daughters,” where Chinese immigrants could be interrogated about their family origins at any moment, to today’s ICE raids in courthouses, hospitals, and workplaces. Time and again, immigrant voices have been silenced, their contributions overlooked or erased.
And yet, despite it all, immigrants keep building. They’ve laid the tracks of our railroads, raised the steel beams of our cities, harvested our crops, and served in our hospitals. Every person I spoke to this summer expressed deep gratitude for their lives in America — and more than anything, they just wanted to contribute.
That, to me, is the American story. It’s not one of exclusion or walls. It’s one of perseverance, community, and the belief in a better future.
This project was a small step toward honoring that truth. By collecting and sharing these stories, I hoped to help restore some of the perspective that’s been lost — to shine a light on the people who make our country what it is, and to remind others, especially those who’ve never heard these kinds of stories, that America wouldn’t exist without immigrants.
We need their voices now more than ever — not just as a reminder of our shared history, but as a guide toward a more empathetic and just future.