I’m obsessed with how people change themselves and the reasons why they do it. I remember arriving in the suburbs of Nashville when I was 4 years old. An only child of a single Colombian mother. I couldn’t speak English and didn’t know why we were suddenly in this strange place. My mom also felt lost and alone. It didn’t take long before we both transformed into the people around us, and I completely forgot how to speak Spanish. For most of my life, I felt that the “American dream” was worth the sacrifice of what those changes leave behind. But now, that shining ideal seems to fade more and more each day. And upon closer examination, I wonder if it ever really existed.