When my parents came to the United States from South Korea in their 20s, they had to learn English and acclimate fast. They settled in the Koreatown section of Los Angeles, where many fashion brands do business in the garment district. My mom basically worked in a sweatshop, sewing clothes in one of those factories. When she became a mother, it was hard for her to continue.
My dad was a truck driver whose job eventually moved us to Arizona when I was in grade school. He would give my mom $200 every month to buy groceries, cover school fees, supplies, and clothes. I vividly remember sweating in our hot apartment because it was too expensive to keep the air conditioner going, which was crazy in the desert heat. Sometimes I ask myself, how did we all grow up in that little two-bedroom apartment when there were five, sometimes seven of us, if relatives stayed? My school meals were comped by the state under a low-income plan. I was embarrassed to use it in front of my peers.
