Monthly Archives: July 2016

Reflecting on September 11

July 31, 2016International Travel, New York, Uncategorized, United States9/11, attacks, city, Ground Zero, New York, nine 11, NYC, reflection pools, September 11, Sky Scraper, Twin Towersbreanamjohnson@gmail.com

They say everyone in the United States can remember where they were when the terrorist planes crashed into the World Trade Towers on September 11, 2001. I was seven years old, and I was asleep in bed.

The last time we visited New York City, in 2005, Ground Zero was a big hole in the ground, surrounded by extensive wrappings of yellow police tape. Over the last decade, it has changed tremendously. Two beautiful reflection pools have replaced the holes left by the Twin Towers’ basements, and a museum has replaced the rubble.

We didn’t go into the museum, because the line wrapped around the building, but we did spend some time at the reflection pools. I was wondering why they are called reflection pools when they don’t really reflect the buildings, but then I realized that they aren’t meant to physically reflect anything. They are there for people to reflect on what happened, the lives that were lost, and the heroes that were made on that terrible day.

You know, it’s easy to let our differences tear us apart. Everything seems to become a political agenda these days. Sadly, it often takes a tragedy like 9/11 to draw us back together. As I reflect on September 11, 2001, my hope for our nation is that it won’t take another terrorist attack for us to realize that we are all American, and we should cherish that commonality high above all that separates us.

Where were you on September 11, 2001? Comment below to share your story.

Ellis Island: Stories of Our Past and Present

July 30, 2016International Travel, New York, Uncategorized, United StatesAmerica, city, Ellis Island, history, hope, immigration, New York, NYC, refugees, Staten Island, Statue of Liberty, united states, USAbreanamjohnson@gmail.com

What is more representative of America than New York City? I was going to write that a trip to New York is the quintessential American experience, but the United States of America is too broad and too mulita-faceted for me to make that statement. Still, the diversity within New York is a fantastic sampling of the cultures and subcultures with the U.S. as a whole, and the city’s history and modern status makes it the perfect place for one to begin a journey through the States.

Appropriately, just as my journey home from the Caribbean begins in New York, my ancestors’ journey from Europe also began here.

The sight of the Statue of Liberty inspires me. It inspires me because it is a timeless representation of what the United States is supposed to be. No matter what political trends rise and fall, Lady Liberty stands at the edge of sea, beaconing the traveler and lighting the way to a place of hope. She inspires me because she is what America is, and the hope that America embodies. This is the first sight of our nations shores that my ancestors saw those many decades ago, and she still stands to welcome the immigrants of today. I hope that we never forget that most of our families came to these shores as immigrants and refugees from other places. I hope we won’t forget that it was once our great-grandparents who arrived, footsore and travel weary, hoping for a better life. Maybe the memory of our own narrative will help us to see the humanity in the great crowds who stand knocking at our gates and give us hearts of compassion.

Those of us who have ancestors who arrived in the United States before 1954 have likely had at least one family member come through the processing center on Ellis Island. For me, the trip to the Ellis Island Museum was significant because I have many ancestors who came through this location. Although I know only a few names, it was amazing to me to stand in the same places that my first American family members stood. After learning about everything it took for people to make it to America and get through Ellis Island, I am in awe of how brave these men and women were. Today, although processes have changed, the people who have the tenacity and drive to make it here and thrive in an unfamiliar culture still must overcome a lot. I have a lot of respect for people who are brave enough to do that, and I’m thankful for my ancestors who made that leap for their children, grandchildren, and me.

Two of my ancestors who traveled from Europe through Ellis Island are my great great great grandpa Nicholas Kocina and his wife, Anna Kocina. Nicholas was Austrian and Anna was Czech. They arrived in the United States in the late 1800s and lived in Chicago before they settled in a Czech community in Nebraska. I tried to imagine what it must have been like for them to climb these stairs and enter the registry room. Although it was fairly empty when we visited, it was absolutely bursting with people when they arrived.

Besides the Kocinas, my family arrived in the United States from Germany, Ireland, Norway, and England. Most of them came through Ellis Island, I assume.

Even more than the history of Ellis Island, I was very interested in the modern refugee and immigration exhibit. I’m working on a master’s in Refugee Protection and Forced Migration Studies, so I was able to glean a lot of useful information from the museum. The issues of refugee asylum and immigration are hot-button topics in the U.S. right now, and I found that the Ellis Island Museum did an excellent job at presenting an informative and well-balanced look at the aspects. There are so many facets to these issues and it’s valuable to be able to hear a variety of voices on the matters, just as the museum presented.If you’re ever in New York City, I’d highly recommend a stop at the Ellis Island Museum. A short ferry ride past the Statue of Liberty will take you there. If you’re short on time, bypassing a tour of the statue and opting for Ellis Island is well worth it. Come discover our nation’s past, our present, and our hope for the future.

It’s Always Goodbye

July 30, 2016Expats, Expats and TCKs, Third Culture Kids, UncategorizedExpat, family, good bye, hope, in-laws, kids, missionaries, missionary, missionary kid, nephews, nieces, sadness, TCK, third culture, third culture kids, travelbreanamjohnson@gmail.com

Marrying into a missionary family is hard. It’s the most wonderful thing in almost every way, but it is so hard to always have to say goodbye. For third culture kids, who grew up in another culture and lived a life of transition and change, goodbyes have always been a part of life. Ben and his family are all third culture kids, with the exception of myself and two other in-laws. They’re so used to this goodbye thing, and they’re so good at it. They know how to leave with grace and meet up again and start right where they left off. I’m not good at good byes. They are the hardest thing in the world for me.

This last Johnson family reunion has been particularly hard, because each family left one-by-one, and I was the last to go. Every time someone left, I’d say my goodbyes and then find somewhere to be alone and cry.

The hardest people to say goodbye to are the kids, especially the littlest ones. We adults are okay at all staying in touch, despite lack of good internet. We video chat with them, and we write to them, and everybody’s on Facebook and email, but none of the nieces and nephews are old enough for that yet. We only get to see them when we actually see them. Since the Johnson family lives in six different countries, we see them only every couple of years. There’s a lot of growing up that happens during those years, and I’m missing it. I’ll meet a baby who’s crawling around on the floor, and the next time I see her, she’s running around the house and telling me all about her favorite princesses. I’m missing the little tea parties, I’m missing the end-of-school-year ice creams, I’m missing lazy Saturdays at the beach and dinners together. With every turn of the calendar is another two or three birthdays come and gone, and I wasn’t there.

It stinks that I have to spend the first day or so of every family reunion getting to know the kids all over again. I have to gently let them warm up to me, and I have to re-introduce myself to the littlest ones for the second or third time. They have no idea that I think about them and miss them every day of their lives. And then when I finally get to see them, it’s for just a few days and then we’re all off to our own corners of the world again. How am I supposed to form close relationships like this? How am I supposed to be a significant part of their lives in I can’t even see them but once every two or three years? Even when we do move to Africa, we’ll only live near one or two families at a time. And by the time we get there, the oldest ones will be in high school. Sometimes I wonder, will that be too late? Will I have missed out entirely by then? It’s not fair to love someone so much and to be so far away. I have to let my heart break over them again and again.

In my perfect world, Ben’s whole family and my whole family would all live in the same place as us. We’re so lucky that everyone on both sides gets along and genuinely likes each other, and I just wish we could take advantage of that all the time! We’d have big family dinners every week. We’d share all the holidays. I’d get one-on-one time with every kid. I’d get to hang out all the time with our parents, my sister and Ben’s siblings. And nobody would have to say goodbye.

I’ve learned something important about goodbyes from my TCK family: goodbyes are never forever. Even if my dream of being close geographically will never come true while we’re alive, Jesus’ death and resurrection has made it possible for us all to live that way forever in Heaven. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop crying about goodbyes, but focusing on eternity rather than this temporary situation will help me to cope with this ever-transient lifestyle we live. Furthermore, it will keep my eyes on Jesus and on the end goal of glorifying the Lord and enjoying him forever. When that day comes, I’ll spend all eternity worshipping the Lord with my family—and never have to say goodbye again. What a beautiful hope.

Bonfire

July 29, 2016Expats, Expats and TCKs, International Travel, New York, Third Culture Kids, United Statesbonfire, campfire, family, farm, fire, marshmallows, New York, rehearsal dinner, smores, summer, weddingbreanamjohnson@gmail.com

Crackling flames, melting chocolate, and campfire songs. All the sounds and smells of summer are wrapped up in a bonfire under the stars. When the Johnson and Brown /Wilson families got together for Stevie and Kirsten’s wedding, we all gathered on the lawn of the farmhouse for a bonfire before the big day.

Both families love to spend time together singing Gospel songs, reading the Bible, and praying. On the Johnson side, this time of family devotions is a nightly tradition that is being passed down through generations. We love to sing family classics that Ben’s mom wrote down years ago for his dad as a wedding gift. We also sing songs that Ben’s brother, Jesse, wrote, as well as French, Swahili, and Kirundi songs. With so many people from around the world present, we were able to sing some of the hymns in multiple languages, including American Sign Language, Spanish, and Arabic. Several of the family and friends present took turns leading worship songs to thank God for the good things He has done in our lives and praise Him for who He is.

Check out the guitar Luke is playing. Jesse had it made out of an old hand-carved guitar neck and heavy-duty can.

When the prayers had been said and the singing died away into the night, the smell of melted chocolate and roasted marshmallows began to permeate the air.

It was time for the time of day that the kids looked forward to most! Okay, I’ll be real– I was probably more excited about the marshmallows than the kids were. But I was good and I didn’t sneak more marshmallows than I was entitled to.

One by one, the chairs emptied. The fire died down to embers, and a lone guitar played soft tunes in the fading light. Ben poured water over the glowing embers, and they extinguished with a slow hiss. All around me, the fireflies flickered silently in the night. Inside the barn, the horse stomped his feet in the damp hay. I looked up and sighed with awe. Above me, a billion points of light pierced the velvety black of the night sky. It had been a long time since I’d seen the stars so clearly, and I could hardly look away. Even that night, as I lay in bed in the farmhouse, I kept my drooping eyelids open long enough to drink in the sight of the big dipper shining on me through the open window.

Cousins Camp at the Farm

July 29, 2016Expats, Expats and TCKs, International Travel, New York, Third Culture Kids, United Statesadventures, animals, boating, camp, country, cousins, cow, explroe, family, fields, friends, fun, hammock, horses, New York, pont, rural, swing, tire swingbreanamjohnson@gmail.com

IT WAS A PLAIN TWO STORY FARM HOUSE
I WISH TIME DID NOT GO BY SO FAST,
OH, THE MEMORIES OF THOSE YEARS LONG AGO
JUST TREASURES OF MY CHILDHOOD LONG PAST.

-Adine Cathey

Every other year, the Brown grandkids come to the farm in New York to spend a week or so at “Cousin Camp.” This year, the Johnson kids were fortunate enough to be a part of this tradition! We were all staying on the Brown farm for my brother-in-law Stevie’s wedding to Kirsten, one of the Browns’ granddaughters.

One of the Cousin Camp activities is decorating t-shirts for the event. The kids loved this, of course! Each shirt was unique and creative, and all of them said “Cousins Camp 2016” on the back to commemorate the occasion.

The Brown side of the family stayed at Grandma and Grandpa Brown’s farmhouse, and the Johnson family got to stay at Jeff and Lindsay’s house down the street. The new house wasn’t quite finished, so we got to help a bit in the process of building the house, which they are building themselves from scratch. I came later than most people, so all I did was sand a couple of window frames, but it was still cool to be a small part of the process! It was so generous of Jeff and Lindsay to let us stay in the house– they had 19 Johnsons staying there for almost an entire week! They had even left us things like shampoo and a coffee maker. What I loved most about the house was the little girl’s room. It looks out into a field with grazing horses. I could imagine her waking up ever day and looking outside on the wildflowers and horses– so wonderful!

I loved the rural neighborhood. It is so quintessentially rural American, with sprawling lawns, bales of hay on the fields, and signs for fresh milk and eggs at the end of long dirt driveways. If I didn’t want to live overseas, this would be my dream. Naturally, I took full advantage of the time in the country, and so did everyone else. It was a great place to run, and it is safe, which is a nice change from home.

The kids, of course, were most thrilled by all the water activities of Cousins Camp. They loved fishing in the pond (as you can see by Zach’s enthusiastic fist-pumping) and splashing each other in the pool.

The farm is a fantastic summer getaway. There is so much to do there, and none of it includes screens or electronics. In fact, I didn’t have internet or much cell service the entire time I was there! And guess what? I hardly missed it. It was refreshing to my soul to have to unplug for a week.

Every day, there was something new to discover. I snapped peas, fed a calf, got a new bread recipe… even hanging laundry on an outdoor line for the first time in a decade was fun and fresh to me.

I guess I’m sort of a city slicker now, but I remember a time from my childhood when we lived in the country and could spend our days gathering wildflowers in the field and chasing cottontail bunnies. Oh, to be little and in the country! It was so nice to be able to relive some of those memories with my nieces and nephews.

One of the most wonderful parts of the whole experience was the sense of belonging that permeated the entire week. The Brown side of the family treated us Johnsons just like their own side of the family. We got the same welcome and the kids got the same treatment. I had to stay a couple of extra days after the rest of the Johnsons left, and the Brown/ Wilson family invited me to stay in their house and made me a part of their family. I’m not even their in-law (does that make me their out-law?), and I still got a family welcome. Even the kids accepted me like family and invited me to do this or that with them.

I got a whole new branch of extended family. It’s a picture of how Jesus has made us all one family, despite our last names or bloodlines.

The whole week was so much fun. You can see by all the smiles that everyone had a great time! What kid (or kid at heart) doesn’t love being barefoot and berry-stained?

New York Waterfall Adventure

July 28, 2016International Travel, Nature, New York, Third Culture Kids, United Statescaves, family, hike, kids, nature, New York, pools, rural, water, waterfall, waterfallsbreanamjohnson@gmail.com

Away from the hustle and bustle of New York City life is a serene world of natural beauty. It came as a bit of a surprise to me that New York State could offer such a wonderful wilderness. As a West-Coast girl, I tend to think of New York as one giant metropolis. Not anymore! While I was in Springfield Center with my family, I discovered the wild side of New York.

The day of Ben’s brother’s wedding, I went with my sisters- and brothers-in-law to Robert B. Woodruff Learning Center, a waterfall hike near the farm where we stayed. The kids needed to get their wiggles out before the ceremony, and some of us still hadn’t seen the falls yet.

This day also happened to be Uncle Don’s birthday, so it was fun to get to all do something together with him.

Beside the falls are a series of natural caves. The kids were excited to go spelunking through them! They are deep enough to be interesting, but not deep enough to be dangerous, so they were able to run free through the natural playground. Micah discovered a hole that went from the bottom of the caves to the top, so of course everyone climbed through that several times. It reminded me of the secret entrance to the subterranean house in Peter Pan.

Once everyone had their fill of caves, we headed down to the falls. Okay, let’s be real—no kid ever has their fill of caves. But once we convinced everyone to clamber down the wooden staircase to the water, they forgot all about the caves and began to dare each other to swim from the shore to the falls in the freezing cold water.

A little further downstream, past the main falls, there is another wide fall that is covered in moss. The green carpet makes the falls comfortable and easy to walk on, so you don’t have to worry about slipping down them. We could safely walk right down through the bubbling stream of water to the pools below. The pools would be great for swimming, but none of us adults were willing to jump in the water like the kids were, although a couple did walk under the main falls.

The kids wandered around and found interesting things to catch their attention. Zach found some insect larva in one of the pools. Micah walked around with a great big Gandalf walking stick until he discovered fishing line and a hook. Carl and Linden learned to skip rocks with their dad, and Layla rolled up a great big green, fuzzy “allergy ball” from the algae on the rocks.

It was time to go all too soon! We said goodbye to the caves and the falls and walked back up the path, through the school, past the garden, and to the car. Who knew New York could have such beautiful nature?

Breana's Blog

A writer's adventures around the world