A JOURNEY TO NEW YORK BY CHINGYA HU

I was born in Taiwan. As a child, I not only enjoyed drawing but was also deeply fascinated by Japanese manga. It didn’t take long for me to realize that I loved Japanese culture. Although I chose a completely unrelated field of study in university, I still worked hard to learn Japanese outside of my academic courses. In those days, many people dreamed of studying in English- speaking countries, but I was different. After graduating from university, I went to Japan to study Japanese and eventually found a job there, which marked the beginning of my career in Japan.

In Japan, I led the life of a typical office worker, with a 9-to-5 job that I frequently changed. I didn’t think much about life or work, simply going with the flow. At that time, foreigners were rare in Japan. I felt that if I, as a foreigner, could live an ordinary life like the locals, that would be enough. I worked diligently like other women my age—earning money to dine out, occasionally traveling abroad, and sometimes rewarding myself with a designer handbag.

Despite my efforts to integrate into Japanese society, as time passed, I gradually lost my passion for life. By 2015, my life had become monotonous. That was when I started dedicating my Thursday evenings and precious Saturday nights to learning oil painting at an art studio. What began as six hours of painting a week slowly became something much more significant. I began to schedule all my meetups with friends on Sundays, and if they suggested meeting on Saturdays, I would choose painting over meeting them. Even my gym schedule was arranged so that it wouldn’t clash with my art class time. At the same time, my work became increasingly demanding. I began working overtime regularly and was often the last to leave the office. While everyone else went home, I would stay quietly catching up on routine tasks. I rarely saw sunsets anymore, and gradually, I started to feel frustrated and dissatisfied. The final straw came when I had to miss my Thursday oil painting class because of work commitments.

One day, I stumbled upon an inspirational book that changed my life. The story was about a Japanese person who moved to New York and became a manga artist, fulfilling her dream. The core message of the book was simple: you don’t need any grand justification, just do it if you want to. In that moment, an old dream of mine from childhood resurfaced: not only did I want to immerse myself in Japan, but I also had always dreamed of going to the United States to study and pursue a major that truly interested me. Without hesitation, I quit my job, emptied all my savings, applied for a student visa to the U.S., and chose New York as my next destination, following in the footsteps of the author in the book.

Coming from a traditional and conservative society in Taiwan and Japan, I didn’t know anyone my age who was going abroad to study after turning thirty. Moreover, I wasn’t pursuing a field that society considered economically practical, like business or computer engineering. Most of my friends at my age already had families, children, and stable careers. Some thought I was crazy or naïve and as a result, I lost a few friends. But years have passed, and I’ve never regretted that decision. I gradually realized that I would rather live a crazy life than one so ordinary that it feels meaningless.

Before moving to the U.S., I had visited New York as a tourist. At the time, I was just an ordinary traveler with some impressions of Times Square and the Statue of Liberty. I didn’t particularly like the noisy and busy atmosphere of the city. However, when I decided to go to the U.S. to study art, I knew that New York was the best place to learn. During my first year in New York, I faced countless challenges. The winter here was colder than any city I had lived in before, and I often felt uneasy walking through unfamiliar areas due to safety concerns. My English skills were still poor, and communicating with locals made me feel isolated. I even struggled with cultural differences while dating people from different backgrounds and found myself feeling overwhelmed by loneliness, contemplating giving up on my life here.

But as the years passed, I look back and realize how far I have come. I began to see New York as my second home. I grew fond of the 24-hour subway. I came to love the diversity of people from all over the world. As for myself, from being an art student practicing in the studio every day, I gradually began to identify as an artist—not only because I created, but because self-exploration and growth became the most important aspects of my life. My life became more uncertain, and I’m still searching for my own artistic voice—the message I want to share with the world. This journey has been anything but ordinary, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.