My childhood was the epitome of the early 2000s. Full of Barbies and glittery flip phones and Lego friends cluttering the living room. I had the perfect American childhood but the real memories of my childhood were interwoven between the mickey mouse pancakes and the disney movies playing on the TV. They were the smell of the ingredients my mom was chopping up for the supă she was going to make for dinner or the sound of Romanian cantare in comun that my Dad was watching on full volume. The influence of my Romanian culture on my childhood is what gave me some of the most impactful memories that I can remember. Although it would be hard to forget the image of my aunt chopping a chicken’s head off outside my mom’s childhood home in Romania or the giant weddings I go to every year. I even grew up in a Romanian church and when I first heard my pastor speak English as a child I looked at my mom in shock asking, “He knows how to speak English?!” As I grew up, I became familiar with the reactions of people not knowing that Romania even existed and the looks of shock when I said my mom had 11 siblings. I love my culture and I had an amazing childhood. As I continue to get older, I will always be comforted by the fact that I can just close my eyes and be back in my childhood kitchen making tăieței with my Bunica as Cinderella plays in the background: Home.
