Nowadays, Chi is such a small part of me. But I do wonder if, under the shadows of Mahalia, Chi lingers for a rebirth
Children of migrants know that names are a tricky business. Whether you were born in the same heartland as your parents or in the new country, chasing opportunity, it’s likely that your name is a map of journey push pins. Its own manifest destiny. The inherited last name, left as it was, maybe its square corners cut to fit round holes. The Western first name, perhaps meant to shelter, propel you into a simpler, more assimilated life. Or maybe, the gift of history, a name crafted in your family’s mother tongue.
Either way, it’s
