On March 15, 1990, I arrived in New York City alone with two suitcases and refugee status. I spoke no English and had no certainty about what the future would bring. Everything familiar was left behind—my homeland, my language, my friends, my memories, and the life I had once known.
I arrived not with wealth or connections, but with hope, determination, and the belief that somewhere beyond fear and uncertainty, a different life was possible.
I settled in Buffalo, NY, where the season’s first snowfall usually arrives in November, and the last snowfall typically happens in April or May.
America felt overwhelming—not for days, not for months—for years!
The city moved fast, the language sounded unfamiliar, and even simple everyday tasks could feel intimidating. I had to learn everything from the beginning—how to navigate a new culture, build a new life, and find my place in a world that often felt enormous and indifferent.
There were moments of loneliness and exhaustion. Moments when I questioned myself and wondered whether I had made the right decision. Starting over from nothing is never easy, especially in a foreign country where every step forward requires courage.
But there was also something else: freedom.
For the first time, I felt that my future was no longer limited by the invisible barriers I had known for so much of my life. In America, hard work, persistence, and determination could open doors that once seemed permanently closed. Those two suitcases carried far more than clothing and personal belongings. They carried memories, survival, loss, resilience, and dreams for a better future.
Like millions of immigrants before me, I came searching not only for safety, but for possibility—the possibility to live freely, to build a future, and to create a life shaped by my own choices.
The journey was not easy, and the road ahead would bring many more challenges. But March 15, 1990, became the day everything changed—the day one life ended and another began.
The two halves of my life were so dramatically different that I called them “my first life” and “my second life”.
It was thirty-six years ago. Throughout these years I measured my progress in small victories others might never notice.
Eventually, I moved out of Buffalo, NY. I got a professional job, I built my life, and retired in sunny Florida. I wrote a memoir about my life journey.
America proved to me that this is a Land of Opportunity! I learned that with determination and hard work, you can reach your dreams.
Today, in the era of “making America great again”, our country is drastically changing, and not for the better. With each passing day, the systems that have guided this nation for nearly 250 years—designed to protect democracy and guard against authoritarianism—are coming under increasing strain.
The cruelty in the treatments of immigrants and even American citizens is astounded. Our new policies reduce people to numbers and inhumanity.
It gives me a suffocating feeling — the sense that I can no longer breathe freely here and want to be somewhere else.
That is the feeling I once had in the Soviet Union. And now I feel it here.
