Hello, My name is Ilizar Yusupov, as indicated by the tittle of this post. I was born in Uzbekistan in the city of Samarkand on June 13, 1995. My family is Jewish. Both of my parents are from Samaraknd as well, I think.  I don’t know much for sure about the history of my family because its rarely brought up except for once in a while when I bring it up. Most of the information I know is from my mom, who was born there then immigrated to the U.S.A. when she was 19 in September of 1995. She was the second in the family to leave, the first being her older sister who came here in 1993 – although this was only in our immediate family, as there were many relatives that came over as well, I can think of 2 other families of 5 or more off the top of my head. After my mother, her parents and older brother came. my moms older sister and brother are both doctors, and my mom is a director at a hospital of the nursing informatics department. We all speak English, except for my grandparents – who understand a lot but are still definitely not comfortable with the language. They both speak 4 or 5 other languages, though I don’t know which exactly. Me, my mom, my aunt, and my uncle speak Russian with my grandparents; my grandparents speak other languages with their friends from the neighborhood typically.

I was born in Samarkand but I immigrated to Rego Park very early and there I stayed for the rest of my life so far. Originally my aunt and her husband came here with their new daughter in 1993 (my moms older sister) and they lived in a small apartment. Then my mom, myself, my uncle (my moms brother) and my grandparents came here in 95-96 and lived in a studio apartment until I was 4. During this time my mom and her sister divorced their husbands – an option that was not available to them in their country (I think, but again I am hazy on this issue so I don’t want all of these details to be set in stone, but as far as I know they are accurate. I have done some questioning but I feel best not to ask too much at once.) My mom found another husband, who was born here in America. His family is of German, Austrian, French and Russian descent – but his family immigrated here 3 generations ago in the early 1900’s and settled in the Bronx. My step-father’s (technically called so – though I refer to him very endearingly by his first name) father, or my grandfather – was a building manager and handled the finances and allocation of resources of buildings and he was also a kind man and would help immigrant families move into some of the apartments for lower prices, such as my family. Eventually my dad and mom met and got together and had a daughter together, my little sister – though that is another story all on its own.

I lived with my grandparents until I was 7 years old. My mom moved in with her new husband and his studio apartment when I was 4, but she would see me often, in between 24 hours shifts at the hospital and school. (not all the shifts were 24 hours, of course, but there were 24 hour shifts, and 16 hour shifts, and the more common 10 or 12 hour shifts as a floor nurse.) She worked in a beauty salon at first, then a bakery, then she got her job as a nurse and worked her way up to her current position, in conjunction with her large technical working experience as a nurse, and a masters in informatics and administration, she has worked her way up to a directorship position.

I attended public school all my life, I went to Stuyvesant high school, and was going to go to Dartmouth college but my family decided it was an obscene amount of money to pay – we couldn’t afford it and it wasn’t worth the loans, I am a firm believer that education is what you put into it anyways. In the 18 years we have lived in the U.S. we went from living in 2 studio apartments (1 housing 4 people and the other housing 5) to a 1 bedroom apartment for my grandparents, a nice attached house for my uncle and his family of 5, a 1 bedroom apartment for my aunt and her family of 2, and a 2 bedroom apartment, as well as a studio for my mom and her family of 4. I guess the point of my story is that I love immigrants. And I’m very excited to get to study them. I don’t know what I plan to major in, it is all very, very interesting.