My parents immigrated to the United States from Ukraine with my older sister in 1994. I was the first in my family to be born on American soil, hence the term, first-generation American. It wouldn't have been so odd if we moved to a city with lots of other immigrants, but growing up in a southern suburban town, where generations of families have lived, made me feel like I stuck out like a sore thumb.

My family as soon as they immigrated.

To start, my first name, Elvera, is probably the strangest name that people have ever heard, not to mention my last name, Gurevich. I grew up with my friends' parents constantly butchering my name and teachers in school not even bothering to pronounce my last name. I had a few teachers that just decided to change my name and call me something else. When I transitioned to high school and later to college, I tried to go by a few nicknames, Vera, E, El, but none of them stuck. Sometimes, if I meet someone I won't see again, I tell them my name is something more common, like Sarah.

Food was a big transition for my friends more than anyone else. There was a lot of "odd" food in the house growing up and inviting my friends over for dinner was a little challenging.I had to explain to them before they came over to try everything and if they didn't like it, they didn't have to eat it and that the handle of Vodka on the table is normal. It's not like my mom's cooking isn't delicious, I honestly think that our taste buds are just wired differently.

There are some traditions and superstitions that most Ukrainians/Russians follow, and those are pretty weird to explain too. For example, before long road trips, everyone sits in the kitchen in silence for twenty seconds, to bring good luck to the travelers. One superstition claims that you can't take the trash out at night. If you do, you will face financial hardships. The last big one in my family, is that once you leave your house, you can't go back inside if you forget something, because if you do, you've upset the natural order of time and something bad might happen to you.

One of the hardest parts about growing up as a first-generation American is communicating with my grandparents. My three living grandparents live in America, but immigrated very late in their lives. The English language is quite difficult to grasp as a second language, and at their age, my grandparents English is quite limited. It's hard to talk to them, because if I forget the Russian translation for a word, I'm stuck until I can type it up on Google translate and hope it makes sense. Another difficult aspect for them to grasp is the current state of higher education. For them, you went to college to become a doctor or a lawyer. Trying to explain that I'm a Communications major and my job opportunities are pretty diverse is something they don't understand.

The biggest difference I see between myself and my peers is my overall understanding of the world around me. Besides travelling to a a handful of countries, I grew up immersed in two, arguably three, different cultures at once: American, Ukrainian, and Jewish. This has helped my overall understanding, because I am able to connect to other Slavic nations, Middle Eastern nations, among others, because the languages and traditions often overlap.

I feel very fortunate to have grown up this way, as I have learned more about the world in 21 short years than some people will learn in their entire lifetimes. Thanks Mom and Dad!

Check this out to learn more about my parent's personal journey.