The campus ground of UBC is one of the many places that are conducive to walking and sightseeing. It’s a home for many students, with plants, trees and domestic birds. There is a particular gigantic tree that is adorned with birdhouses for finch, sparrow, chickadee, wren, woodpecker, crow and even bees. There is a wooden bench with stories of four students titled “Places of Refuge.”
What is a home? When I moved to Vancouver, I thought that a home is a safe place, a place of prosperity. But now I understand that home is home because of identity. Home is home because of your people. I don’t call Vancouver home because my parents are not here, but it is a good place. I have gained many things since being here — knowledge, experience, and a better understanding of how the world works. But, it is difficult to adapt to a new environment, to be what the environment wants you to be. You can experience challenges anywhere. People just collide sometimes. ~ Makerduek, South Sudan
Every time I think I might be taking my life for granted, I think about my parents. My father was a brilliant student at university and, just before he could graduate, they had to flee the country while my mother was pregnant with me. So, whenever I start to complain about university work, I think of my father and how he had to leave in the middle of his degree just because someone decided to start a war. My parents are proud to be immigrants; everything they have in Canada, they created for themselves. I feel disconnected sometimes when I realize how much other people take for granted. ~ Tara, Croatia
The most surprising thing about coming to Canada was seeing a person walking ahead of me and holding open a door until I could put my hand on it. Where I come from people were taught to kill. The first thing they would want to do if they saw me was hit me with a machete. And then, just two and half years later, the first person I see, their concern for me is: Can I hold open the door for you? I don’t think anyone else at UBC was walking around feeling so amazed at doors being opened. ~ Willy, Rwanda
My parents have lived in the same house for my entire life. It’s a quiet place — the yard ringed with trees where birds nest, close enough to the ocean that you can smell the salt. When I was young, we acted as a host family to students from the international school who stayed with us during breaks and sometimes for years after they graduated. The house was always filled with different voices and different stories. It was there that I first realized how lucky I was. While so many others came from such difficult circumstances, I had nothing to run from, nothing to escape. ~ Chris, Canada
This iPhone serves me well in documenting memories. One camera is all I need.
Reflections 