When Family Secrets Create New Wounds

"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 fabrications about their relatives' lives, ostensibly made up to protect them. None feel that they were better for it. This kind of concealment is common among refugee families: There's no foolproof roadmap for determining when and how to disclose traumatic events, especially to children, and for many who leave their home country, keeping the past in the past can feel like a way of safeguarding the future."

A Russian proverb warns that dwelling on the past is dangerous. A family of post-Soviet refugees conveys history in loose, cinematic anecdotes and suppresses traumatic details. A grandmother's claim that her father died of a heart attack conceals the truth that he was declared an enemy of the state and abducted by the KGB. Fabrications intended to protect children are common among immigrant families but often leave descendants feeling harmed. There is no foolproof method for deciding when or how to disclose trauma to children, and secrecy can inflict potent wounds. The White Hot centers on April Soto's abandonment and a later explanatory letter to her daughter.

Read at The Atlantic