music

Sarah’s Immigration Story – Ottawa, Canada to Terlingua, Texas

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Family

Sarah’s parents were born in the US and met in Watertown, New York – right across the border from Canada. Her mom was a young reporter for the Watertown Daily Times about to go study at Harvard, and her father was a new graduate of Columbia’s journalism program.

“My dad waltzed in with his big-city look with bell-bottoms and platform shoes. He was the new editor.”

Sarah’s grandmother did not like her 18-year-old dating this 25-year-old. They dated that summer and then Sarah’s father moved to Sudbury, Ontario to work in radio and television. After Sarah’s mother graduated from university she joined him and got a job at the local Sudbury newspaper. 

Above: Sarah, age five, with her older sister

Sarah’s parents moved to Ottawa, Canada’s capital city, and had Sarah, their second child. When she was three, they moved to Toronto, Canada’s largest city. While in Toronto her father founded YTV, a popular children’s TV channel. When Sarah was 12, the family moved from Toronto to the nearby suburbs of Oakville.

Trash Talking Canadians

Looking back, it bothers Sarah how so many Canadians “talk trash” about the US. She felt defensive from a young age as a daughter of Americans. Sarah wanted to ask those critiquing the US: “what do you really know about America?” For example, Canadians like to pretend that they are more environmentally friendly than their American neighbors. In reality, Canadians just have more space, but individually, they still create just as much pollution.

“Canadians spend so much time looking at what’s going on in the United States and laughing. They don’t stop and look at what’s going on in their own country.” (audio below)

Above: Sarah with the same electric guitar she has had since age 15 [left], & Sarah, her two siblings and parents in 2006 [right]

California Dreaming

Sarah’s childhood dreams transitioned from being an astronaut, to an archeologist, to camp director, and then a teacher. The one dream that stayed consistent was for Sarah to one day become a professional singer.

In fourth grade, Ken Whiteley, a Canadian roots music legend, visited her English class and helped the students write and record songs on cassette tapes. 

“I was already making songs and singing them to my stuffed animals, but that was the first time I realized it was a job!”

Sarah picked up the guitar in seventh grade and couldn’t stop writing songs. She dreamt of moving to California to perform.

“Singing is instinctual. It’s definitely therapy. It helps me understand things. If I’m writing a song, I might start with a problem and by the end of it have a solution. It’s mostly about feelings and relationships and experiences – difficult situations mostly.” (audio below)

University

Sarah studied English Literature and Film Studies at Queen’s University in Kingston, Ontario, thinking she would one-day work in film. The experience wasn’t as expected. Sarah didn’t connect with her profs, and it was clear it wasn’t what she wanted to do. Despite not liking her degree choice, she did enjoy the extracurriculars. Sarah worked for a poetry magazine and helped organize local concerts.

Open Mic

Sarah went home for the summer to Oakville to serve in restaurants. One of her coworkers had recently graduated from a prestigious music school. After hearing some of Sarah’s songs he dragged her to a busy local cafe’s open mic night. Sarah, 21 years old, hadn’t performed in front of a crowd since an eighth-grade talent show, but she got up and sang. When she finished everybody clapped.

“It was the most exhilarating performance of my life.”

After that Sarah played some shows at university pubs but she still didn’t believe that she could make a career of music.

Above: Sarah in the shack where she lived when she first moved to Terlingua

Backpacking to Busking

After graduating from university, in 2004 Sarah had saved up enough from waitressing to go backpacking Europe. Along the way, Sarah waitressed, had a desk job, and even worked as a preschool teacher.

Sarah figured that when the trip finished, she was going to return home and start a career. In the back of her mind, she knew that music was what she wanted to do, but she had never done it to make money. She decided to see if she could make money with her music on the streets of New Zealand. With a ukulele and a borrowed guitar, Sarah went out in Auckland to busk.

“Being originally a very shy kid, it was always the most terrifying thing, but I would fantasize about it as a kid. I would have to sing my way to make money to buy a train ticket to get home.” (audio below)

Soon enough, she was making more money in the streets than all her other jobs. Sarah started hitchhiking around New Zealand, busking on the road during the day, and sleeping in a tent at night. She even stayed in a commune for a bit.

Flailing Around

Sarah returned to Canada and enrolled in a music program at Seneca College. After graduating she “flailed around trying to figure out how to work as a musician.” Slowly Sarah started to make a living by touring and in 2010 she booked her first tour to California. After the tour, life wasn’t going so well: Sarah had a bad breakup, she put out a record that didn’t sell, she threw her back out at her waitressing job and played shows while in pain. She was depressed and struggling to make ends meet financially. Sarah decided that she needed to return to the US to tour again.

Sarah thought about how nice it would be to find a small town in a warmer place where she could plant some roots. She wanted to own a house – an impossibility in Toronto. A friend recommended that she check out Terlingua, Texas, so Sarah booked a gig at the Starlight Theatre for her tour.

Above: Sarah performing an acoustic version of her song “Desert Sky”

Moving South

It was April 2015 when Sarah first arrived in Terlingua, Texas, also known as, “Ghost Town”. 

“I got out of the car at the Starlight, and I thought, ‘I’m finally hot enough!’ ” 

After that tour, she returned to Canada and started looking online at buying land in a warmer climate. She finally decided on Los Angeles. She was thinking she had to be in a big city if she was going to make it in music. 

The plan was to save up money bartending in Canada, return to Terlingua, chill out for a bit, and then continue to Los Angeles to live. But Sarah didn’t make as much money as she thought she would bartending- it wouldn’t be enough for first and last month’s rent in LA. Still, she got in her minivan and headed south, unsure how she would be able to afford life in California. 

To make financial matters worse, Sarah got robbed right after crossing the border. While she played her first show in Detroit, someone broke into her minivan and stole her acoustic guitar, laptop, and hard drives. (audio below)

Change of Plans

Despite the robbery, Sarah arrived in Terlingua in 2016. She still planned on only being there for a month before moving on to LA. Sarah lived in her minivan – a friend built her a bed in the back. She booked a bunch of shows, and before Sarah knew it, she was working three jobs.

“I needed the money, and there was a lot of work here. In this town, if you are willing to work, there is a job for you.” 

She decided to stay longer, work, and make money, still thinking she would go to LA. Then she met a guy and started thinking; maybe she didn’t need to leave Terlingua.

“Not to be a super cheeseball but happiness was something I was on a quest for. I never felt truly happy, and one day I was at brunch, and I was like, ‘I’m actually happy! I finally get it.’ To access it, I had to travel all over North America and find this little town.”

Terlingua

Sarah describes Terlingua as a hot, dusty, old mining town at the foot of Big Bend National Park. It’s a place with an eclectic mix of people: Mexicans because it’s close to the border, “wanderers”, “artsy types”, “lost souls” and, of course, tourists.

“It’s hard to say politically where the town stands, but everyone seems to get along.” (audio below)

Sarah explains how some people “hermit” in Terlingua – people you would never see on the porch of the Starlight (a regular gathering spot). 

“Most people come here as far as I can tell because it’s a place you can start something from nothing. The house we’re in is a combination of a historic rock building and a bunch of garbage. There are a lot of places like that here.”

My Land

Sarah ended up buying a little five-acre plot of land on the outskirts of Terlingua [see the above photos].

“They aren’t making any more land, so it’s good to have some. If all else fails and shit hits the fan in my life, there is a place I can go to that’s my own.” (audio below)

So far, Sarah has made the driveway of her home by hacking the creosote – a plant that has solid roots – with a pickaxe.

“It’s quite the experience digging up creosote. It’s a good workout and good therapy. I took out rage I didn’t even know I had, building that driveway!”

Guns

“I know someone in this town that has held a gun to a person’s head for no reason other than being drunk and mad. That’s not cool. It is a gun culture.”

Many if not most people Sarah knows in Texas have guns. She remembers going on a date once with a guy in Austin who wanted to show her his gun collection. It felt incredibly uncomfortable for a first date. Sarah isn’t against guns when used safely for hunting or recreation. Her dad, a US army brat, grew up learning about guns. When Sarah arrived in Texas, she did some shooting with hunting rifles “that felt appropriately hard to use”. What she finds scary are these tiny handguns that are so easy to use.

“You have this militant nation where everybody is ready to shoot. It’s really scary. I don’t think people need to have their guns taken away. I also don’t think anybody needs a semi-automatic weapon. If you look at what other countries have done after their mass shootings and you can statistically see fewer gun deaths, it seems so obvious.”

Still, she sees things starting to change in the wake of recent mass shootings. She knows of one local guy who took his automatic rifle, destroyed it, and put the video on youtube. Still, Sarah finds the topic of guns a hard thing to talk about with people around Terlingua. (audio below)

Future

Sarah hopes to build a house on her land in the future. In the meantime, she will continue playing music, traveling, connecting with people, and trying to make music that has a positive influence on the world. 

Sarah says she used to be an activist, but found herself exhausted, broke and ineffective as an activist and a musician. Today she tries to live by the advice of Canadian-born singer-songwriter Neil Young who during an acceptance speech at the Junos told young artists wanting to create change to focus on their music first. He said they should try to reach as wide an audience as possible, and then think about what cause they wanted to work towards. At that point, their message will be a lot stronger.

*Update: Sarah moved back to Canada due to the Covid-19 and work no longer being available in Texas. Still, Sarah is building her house in Terlingua. She plans on dividing her time over the coming years between Canada and the US. To find more of Sarah’s work visit her website.

#FINDINGAMERICAN

To receive updates on the book release and exhibition of “Finding American: Stories of Immigration from all 50 States” please subscribe here. This project is a labor of love and passion. If you would like to support its continuation, it would be greatly appreciated!

© Photos and text by Colin Boyd Shafer | Edited by Kate Kamo McHugh. Quotes are edited for clarity and brevity.

Mike’s Immigration Story – London, the United Kingdom to Norman, Oklahoma

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Childhood

Mike’s childhood in London wasn’t easy. He grew up in the northwest area of the city in a low-income family that lacked stability.

Above: Mike being held by his mother. Smoking, drinking and doing drugs were commonplace in his house.

Mike still thinks London is the most magnificent city in the world. Smells are a big trigger for childhood memories, like the smell of the tube (underground train) and wet concrete when it rains – earthy yet industrial.

“That, to me, is London – a big concrete and brick city, and it rains all the time.” (audio below)

Mike’s birth was unplanned. As a baby, his parents – who he never really remembers being a ‘couple’ – and his two much older half brothers were at the home. His oldest brother left home at age 16 when Mike was only one year old. “When he had the opportunity to get out, he did,” and in hindsight, Mike respects him for doing so.

Above: Mike with his brother and his brother’s son. “That was my brother being there for me when I needed him to be. The way he has his arm around me brings a tear to my eye. I always knew he would protect me.”

Instability

Mike grew up in a musical household – three or four guitars were always laying around. Mike’s grandfather, Alexis Korner, was a celebrated blues musician. He figures it was the musician’s lifestyle that got his parents into drugs.

“You can’t grow up and hang out with the Rolling Stones and not get into heroin.”

Above: Mike’s mother singing at a show the Rolling Stones headlined in Hyde Park [left] & Mike’s grandfather Alexis Korner [right]

“Essentially, both of my parents spent their lives dealing drugs in one form or another. That’s probably how they met, and that’s why they split up. It dominated most of my young life, but I didn’t know it at the time. Looking back as an adult, I am like, ‘Oh, ya that’s why that happened!’”

When asked what his father did for work, Mike replied, “What hasn’t he done? He repaired trucks, managed tours for the band Motorhead, and most recently he drove a cab.” His father was never in the best of health. 

Above: Mike’s father at a party [left]. The postcard Mike received for his 23rd birthday – “sometimes you want more than a postcard from your dad”.[right]

When Mike was 12, his mom met her boyfriend John. Mike remembers John as “the only person who could ever handle her” and he really looked up to him.

“It was my birthday. I wanted to be Bob Dylan, so he bought me a harmonica and said I could play his guitar anytime I wanted. That’s when I learned that I loved the guy.”

Above: Mike, as a teenager, with two of his best friends.

Mike’s first connections to America were his godmother who lived in Los Angeles, and his best friend in London who was from New York. His first visit to see his godmother was when he was six.

“From the moment I came to the US, I loved it. Getting into my godmother’s late 80s Oldsmobile, hot leather seats, palm trees. I was like, ‘Wow, this is pretty awesome!’ I think I was always meant to come back.”

Above: His mother’s little black book [right], where she kept all of her contacts and news clippings. He cherishes it not because of what is in it, but because it is the only possession he has that was his mother’s.

Loss

Mike’s mother died in 2006 when Mike was only 18 – the toughest thing he has ever gone through.

Mike needed to get out of the house after his mother’s death, but realistically he didn’t have anywhere to go. He had always lacked confidence and motivation and he didn’t expect to get into college. Mike thought it was a mistake when a journalism program in Falmouth, Cornwall, accepted him. After a couple of years of studying rarely, and socializing often, he decided to move back to London, where he got a job as a police community support officer. It was a position designed by the Metropolitan Police in London to bridge the gap between the community and the police.

Above: The thumbnail photo of Caelie Mike saw and clicked on when scrolling through camgirls [right]

Love Online

Mike wasn’t loving the job, he was dealing with depression, and looking for some to connect with. He turned to the internet. One night he was scrolling through “cam model” thumbnails and clicked on a redhead he found attractive.

Caelie, who is from Oklahoma, was living in Portland, Oregon when Mike came across her picture. She started working as a camgirl to put herself through massage school. She was “camming” with a lot of people every day, but as Caelie explains, Mike was different from the other guys.

“He didn’t come in and be like ‘show me your boobs.’ He was more like: What kind of music do you like? Do you have a college degree? Who’s your favorite artist? We started talking more and more in this casual way online. He was engaging, interesting, and kind. I felt like I was being seen and heard, and that was a really new experience for me.” (audio below)

Things between them moved fast – within the first few conversations; it was clear something was there. Mike kept coming back and spending more money to chat with her, and she knew that because of the time difference, he wasn’t sleeping. As Mike remembers,

“I was never looking for love, but it found me. I was just looking for someone to listen to me and make me feel special. The more I got to know, the more I liked her, and the fact that it was reciprocated was even more shocking to me. I was just paying to be there!”

 

Caelie and Mike started writing a lot of letters back and forth. Caelie has always liked to write, feeling like it is a very personal thing to do. 

“That was my way of sharing a part of myself with him and being vulnerable with him. Sometimes the internet feels very impersonal. To have something that someone has touched is special. We had to grasp at straws to create intimacy because of the distance, and writing for me, was a way.”

Mike really wanted to meet Caelie in person. He felt like his job working as a community support officer for the Police in London, was a “dead-end,”  and he was ready for a change.

Above: A selfie they took on Mike’s first visit to Oregon.

Together

When Mike arrived in Portland in 2011, he never had any intention actually to move to the US. They had been talking every day for months, so it was exciting to finally meet Caelie in person. 

“That first time when we first got to share the same space. It was incredible. We already knew, but it confirmed it for us. Everything else is there; now we just need to occupy the same physical space. From that moment there was no question. There were lots of questions from people around us, but we never doubted it.”

Caelie remembers waiting for Mike at the airport in Portland and how intense that first meeting was. She remembers their first hug – it was overwhelming.

“We got out to my car in the parking garage and just sat there and stared at each other for a little while. That was a really good two weeks. We didn’t leave the house as we were just enjoying each other. We both cried when he had to go.” (audio below)

 Above: Tickets from the top of Space Needle in Seattle, where they made the decision to get married.

Mike and Caelie visited each other in person every three months for a while, then Mike came to the US on a fiancé visa in 2012. They tried to do the application without an immigration lawyer, but they hadn’t provided enough evidence of their relationship. After five months of waiting, they got the rejection. The second time they applied, they sent in “more than enough evidence.” 

“Even with Mike being from a western country, white, speaking English- it was hard and expensive. I really feel for people who have more obstacles. We had all the cards stacked for us, and it was still really difficult.”

Molly

Caelie was pregnant within two weeks of Mike’s arrival. Neither of them planned on having kids before, but oddly enough, if they ever had a daughter, they both agreed that they wanted to name her Molly. (audio below)

They had a “shotgun wedding” and got “some looks about it” but they were so in love nothing else mattered. Molly was born in August 2013.

“Molly is smart, sassy, and strong. She is so independent, and it is a huge pain in both of our asses. We wouldn’t want it any other way. She’s a tiny person and reminds me of both my wife and me every day. It’s an honor, and it’s absolutely terrifying, and I don’t want to mess it up.” (audio below)

Despite coming from different backgrounds, Mike says he and Caelie want the same thing for their daughter – to provide her with unconditional love. 

“We want her to have that safety and security of knowing no matter what happens and who you are or the decisions you make, you will be loved. We are your people until the moment that we don’t exist. That was something my mom actually taught me. Her love was never conditional, despite the plethora of crap that was my childhood – I never questioned her love. She made sure I had a roof over my head, food in my belly, clothes, and that I went to school. That’s always been the baseline of what a parent owes a child.” (audio below)

Mike also knows many of the things he experienced growing up – he never wants Molly to encounter. He doesn’t want her to be around drugs or irresponsible adults.

“There is nothing that quite compares to being a kid and realizing that the person you are relying on is not reliable. It shakes things. Despite knowing that my mom loved me there were times when she was screwed up – whether it was drinking, drugs, or bad relationships. Realizing that I didn’t necessarily come first at those times was kind of scary, and I don’t want that for my kid.” 

Oklahoma

When Mike arrived in 2012, they lived at Caelie’s parents’ house. Mike needed to find work to support his pregnant wife. His first job in Oklahoma was as a laborer, laying mortar for a masonry company. After that, he got into selling insurance over the phone. He figures his British accent got him that job. After the call center, he became an associate agent for All-State Insurance. Still, he wanted to try something else.

In 2018, Mike started working as the volunteer coordinator at the Cleveland County ReStore for Habitat for Humanity. This ReStore focuses on taking care of the local community and getting people out of poverty. Volunteers do most of the labor at the store. 

Mike describes Oklahoma as “quintessential midwest,” barely any hills, big plains, buffalo, and waving wheat. They have scorching summers and short cold winters, and dealing with tornadoes is normal. Politically it is a “a very red state, the buckle of the bible belt”, but Norman is a university town, so it is a “very blue bubble in a red state”.

It bothers Mike how the community is polarized as a result of the region’s history.

 “If you are rich and your family’s rich, then you live on that side of town; if not, you are over there.”

In East Norman, where they live, it is more diverse. Mike wants Molly to grow up, “knowing that there are people different than her, and that’s a good thing.”

For a while, Mike and Caelie were thinking about moving. They decided to stay.

“We want to make this place better and take care of what we do have here – a budding and caring community.”

Above: Mike wearing a scarf Caelie knitted and mailed to Mike after they started talking online

Modern Love

Caelie feels like she and Mike have a truly modern love story. Their courting seems unique, but she thinks it may become less unusual as time goes on. Caelie says ‘cam work’ is amazing because it is something that is usually done willingly as a choice. It allowed her to be financially independent and to find love across an ocean.

“I chose to be in it, and I enjoyed the work while I was in it. When I didn’t enjoy it I stopped. It taught me a lot about my fellow humans and what’s normal. It set me up to be open to something.” (audio below)

It is still something Caelie believes should be done carefully- especially the idea of meeting in person with someone you met online.

“Everybody should be cautious online, but you can’t live in complete fear. You have to put yourself out there in order to find love and a life that you want.”

Future

Mike wants to grow old with Caelie in Norman, Oklahoma. 

“Caelie is the glue to who I am as a person. I love her with all my heart.”

He hopes in the future he can look back and say that he had a part in making Norman a better place – “a little more loving, a little more caring”.

“Through my work in the community and also through raising a child that is going to live those ideals, teach other people, and maybe have her own children someday. The best I can do is try and raise a kid who is going to make the world a better place. It’s not a big fancy dream – it’s pretty straight forward.” (audio below)

*Update: Since the interview, Mike became a US citizen and returned to working as an associate agent for All-State. He says his experiences in the non-profit sector have helped him be more focused on improving the local community with the work he does with insurance. Mike’s father passed away in February of 2020.

#FINDINGAMERICAN

To receive updates on the book release and exhibition of “Finding American: Stories of Immigration from all 50 States” please subscribe here. This project is a labor of love and passion. If you would like to support its continuation, it would be greatly appreciated!

© Photos and text by Colin Boyd Shafer | Edited by Kate Kamo McHugh & Janice May. Quotes edited for clarity and brevity.

Kriz’s Immigration Story – Hudiksvall, Sweden to Nashville, Tennessee

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Childhood

Kriz was born in the broader community of Hudiksvall, but her family lived in a small fishing village of only 200 households. She had a middle-class upbringing, with her mother at home caring for the family until she was seven. At that point, her mother became a “mail lady” at the post office. Her father worked in the sawmill. She was able to walk to her elementary school in her village, but from seventh grade onwards, Kriz took a bus to and from school. Kriz spent the summers of her childhood at her family’s lake house. Her father built a boat, and Kriz was seven when she first went out in it.

“I’m getting emotional now because he has Alzheimer’s, and his life is degenerating. He built that boat. It had a little engine on it, and he showed me how to start, stop and steer, and how to change the throttle. He started it for me and said, “off you go” and “off I went.” (audio below)

Her father was a keen archer and founder of their village’s archery club. The love of this sport rubbed off on Kriz, and for two years, Kriz held a Swedish national record.

Above: A handmade blown-glass bowl Kriz won at an archery competition

Country Music

Kriz’s dad also loved listening to country music. During family drives, he always played a mixed tape of Swedish traditional music, old-time rock n roll, and country music. He wanted Kriz to play an instrument, and he chose the accordion – which she didn’t care for. When she was 12, a new music teacher moved to the village, and seeing her dislike of the accordion, suggested Kriz try playing the guitar. Kriz started writing country music when she was 13 years old and figures that she has written over 300 songs to date [see her song binders below].

Audio: Kriz singing her signature song

“ I’ve been told that I have a Swedish accent when I speak but not when I sing.” (audio below)

Over the years, Kriz had several different jobs in Sweden: working in the sound department at a TV station and then on a farm. Before moving to the US, Kriz worked at a ski resort in the winter [see the photo below] and spent the rest of the year driving tractors and harvesting at both a sawmill and a peat moss field. Although she has yet to work as a truck driver – one job Kriz has always dreamed about doing.

“I guess it was a romanticized thing for me – the freedom of being on the roads listening to music.”

Growing up, she knew very little about the US, and never had any plans of visiting. All she knew was that it had a strong military, and it was massive.

“Exactly how big it is you don’t understand until you come here. If you travel from the northernmost point to the southernmost point in Sweden, it will take 10 to 12 hours – the same amount of time it takes to travel one state in the US.”

Finding Love

Kriz became an avid user of the website Myspace, regularly posting her music there. A man from Chattanooga, Tennessee, started frequently commenting on her music. In response, Kriz saw the potential for musical collaboration and sent him a recording of her singing along to one of his songs.

“I threw it out there: ‘Maybe we can do something together sometime?’ The conversation continued, and slowly but surely, we fell in love.” (audio below)

The phone bill was getting so expensive that it would be cheaper to buy airfare and meet in person than continue the long-distance relationship. This Tennessean proposed to her over the phone, but she said she wanted to meet him in person first. In 2008 she came to the US, he proposed, and Kriz said ‘yes.’

United States

Moving to the US was intimidating for Kriz, even though she could already speak English well.

“I was afraid I would do something wrong and stand out.”

The ubiquitous billboards lining the road were one of the first things that struck her about America, along with the incredible number of cars. The highway where she grew up had only two lanes, in comparison to the eight lanes in each direction she now experienced. Kriz could not believe people used drive-thru banks! 

“In Sweden you park your car and run errands on foot. Over here you drive-thru everything!”

It was a strange experience being unable to work legally when she first arrived on a K-1 fiancée visa. She used all this free time to learn about American culture by watching the Andy Griffith show. Kriz also started a diary of where and what she ate. The first entry on her list was McDonald’s, where she had a Mcgriddle, something she had never seen in Sweden. 

Kriz’s first job in the US was in a medical office answering phones, and next, she worked in a call center.

Nashville

Kriz and her husband moved from Chattanooga to Nashville because he needed back surgery. After he had recovered, Kriz began working at a chocolate store in a mall where she makes candy, candy apples, and stocks the chocolates. Kriz enjoys the job, and her boss says she would be lost without Kriz.

The first word that comes to mind when Kriz thinks of Nashville is ‘vibrant”. 

“You can feel the music in the air. If you are creative, you can feel inspiration just flowing around. It’s definitely touristy, but it has everything – big city life to country life.”

Kriz regularly visits Percy Priest Lake, only ten miles outside of downtown Nashville. After growing up by the water, it’s where she feels most at home in Tennessee.

Missing Sweden

Kriz misses all the holidays in Sweden, which always seem to be longer and more often there. In Sweden, you don’t put out cookies for Santa at Christmas but instead, leave a bowl of rice pudding. One important holiday in Sweden is Midsommar (Midsummer). It is so dark for most of the year, so they celebrate light! Traditionally young girls pick seven different types of flowers and use these to dream about who they are going to marry. Today most people don’t believe in this custom, but in the past, people did. Superstition amongst the older generation in Sweden was quite common. Kriz’s grandmother was always blaming trolls for any misfortune.

“My grandmother seriously believed in trolls and little supernatural beings living out in the woods or under the cabin. If something was missing, she blamed ‘the little ones.’”

She also misses the Fika culture – the time you socialize over a cup of coffee or a cup of tea (soda or kool-aid for the children) and snack. ‘Having a Fika’ with a friend is part of everyday life in Sweden. Her family always kept cinnamon rolls in the freezer in case someone came over. In nearby Atlanta, there is a large Swedish community and an IKEA store. While Kriz used to enjoy the Swedish meatballs, becoming a vegetarian has made her miss Swedish food less.

Audio: Reading her favorite poem by Swedish poet Dan Andersson

Future

It is hard having her parents still living in Sweden, especially with her father’s Alzheimer’s. Kriz is the only person in her family living in the United States. 

“They respect my choice, but they miss me, and I miss them.”

What makes it even harder lately is that her husband’s health hasn’t been good, so they no longer sing together. In the immediate future, Kriz will be releasing a small collection of poetry, while still hoping to write that “first million-dollar song.” 

Audio: A poem Kriz wrote for her granddaughter’s christening

*Update: Kriz’s father passed away this year. “God and circumstance would have it that I was there visiting, and he passed away peacefully. Even though I couldn’t stay to attend the funeral, the last verse of my dad’s favorite poem was read to him by his casket for me.” If you would like to listen to more of Kriz’s music, you can visit her Facebook Page. 

#FINDINGAMERICAN

To receive updates on the book release and exhibition of “Finding American: Stories of Immigration from all 50 States” please subscribe here. This project is a labor of love and passion. If you would like to support its continuation, it would be greatly appreciated!

© Photos and text by Colin Boyd Shafer | Edited by Kate Kamo McHugh. Quotes are edited for clarity and brevity.