A Russian proverb I heard growing up translates to something like 'Those who recall the past will lose an eye.' Dwelling on bygone events, it suggests, is dangerous. My family of post-Soviet refugees seemed to believe it, and mostly passed down their history in loose, cinematic anecdotes. I'd piece together what their lives were like before we immigrated to Los Angeles from images of barbed-wire obstacle courses, ransacked apartments, and sudden deaths. Lore was rarely presented in a matter-of-fact way'so when I was 11, and my grandmother told me plainly that her father had died of a heart attack, I grew suspicious. When I confronted my mother about the story, she admitted what she knew of the truth: My great-grandfather had actually been declared an enemy of the state and abducted by the KGB, never to be seen again. My grandmother, to whom I was very close, had lied to me, forcing me to strong-arm my way into our family's history. Many of my immigrant friends remember similar...
learn more
