April 1 – 28, 1999
In my mind and in my dreams I am constantly pulled back to the United States by my roots, after all my family, culture and traditions are all there giving me a strong and vivid connections. Finding a sense of belonging in Taiwan has proven to be much more challenging than I ever anticipated. No matter how well I speak Chinese or practice the local customs, I’m forever foreign.
Unexpectedly, a turning point occurred one afternoon about three years ago. My then two year old son, Sean, and I had gone to play in a neighborhood park as we so often did on sunny days. I was quite familiar with this particular park and as usual I regarded the bordering shanty houses ruefully, puzzled by their desperate appearance. Everything, I thought, was incomprehensible and different from what I knew and understood back home. As I was thinking about those differences, then smog and the motorcycle that nearly hit us on our way, I looked over and saw Sean gleefully chasing some roosters that made the park their home. I remember staring with amazement at how effortlessly he embraced his environment. He was enjoying his childhood despite the deteriorating structures, unkempt gardens, and debris around him – it was irrelevant. In the moment I turned around and saw what would become the first meaningful photograph I was to make in Taiwan.