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I reside near Chinatown in Manhattan, New York. Whenever I pass by the Manhattan Bridge, I often see many elderly Chinese women sitting quietly on benches, gazing out at the sea. Once, I paused to observe them and noticed they simply stared at the ocean, lost in thought. I wonder what goes through their minds. Most of them belong to immigrant families and many do not speak English, confining their world to Chinatown. Their silhouettes remind me of my grandmother with whom I lived as a child. She dedicated so much to our family, tirelessly and without complaint about her lot in life. The sight of these old women by the sea prompted me to ponder—what are my grandmother's days like? Does she also have moments of weariness, sitting silently in contemplation? Living alone in the United States for several years, I occasionally feel a sense of loss, as if I do not belong to this city, this country. The initial language barrier and cultural shock constantly reminded me that I am in a foreign land. And for these elderly women by the sea, I wonder if anyone cares about their inner worlds, if their voices are truly heard. This curiosity gave birth to a story I want to tell—about a day in the life of a grandmother, the helplessness of not fitting in, the yearning for home, the hidden loneliness of sacrificing for family. And ultimately, I hope they find their sense of belonging and happiness.
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Duration | 13 Minutes |
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