Dear Singapore,

I know you a little bit better from my mom and her stories. We are forty-five years apart. 

Where the heat is sweltering. Where durians grow effortlessly. 

You are probably the most conflicting to me. A tiny tip of formerly Malaysia, a Chinese enclave that is home to some of the richest people in the world. 

I’m honestly not super proud to be associated with you. My perception is that you are a Chinese-centric country that claims to value diversity and unity amongst different ethnic groups, but only really places ethnic Chinese people in the highest places of power. Where colorism is generations deep. Where productivity and money are more valuable. 

You were where my mom felt like an outsider because she was not wealthy while those around her were. 

But you were where my grandfather and mother first came to know God. 

You are where my ancestors left for their children to have a more secure life. My great grandparent’s bones rest on your land. 

Although I don’t want to accept you, you are a part of my mother’s story and mine. You gave way for my family's existence. I long to find peace with you, but for now, I will continue to wrestle and to learn.

Love,

Hannah