So it is interesting that the first real photos I ever took were in Manhattan’s Chinatown, which I spent my adolescence avoiding. But it was in that neighborhood where I began to appreciate the hard work of immigrants and the sacrifices they made to be here. I then traveled west and saw the early Chinese-American settlements in Locke, Calif., and met relatives who traced their lives in this country to the Transcontinental Railroad. The more I experienced, the more I felt empowered to accept myself as a Chinese-American.

My great-grandfather Gee Goon arrived in America in the early 1900s and traveled from Angel Island in San Francisco Bay to Quincy, Mass. I feel as if I made a similar journey. These photos explore what the Chinese-American identity is, a coming-of-age story about the merging of two, sometimes polarizing, cultures. As I used art to understand our place and contributions in the country’s social landscape, I noticed something else. From the older gentlemen who roam the streets of Chinatown to the young women learning to balance family, school and love, the moments I capture represent not just the story of Chinese-Americans, but that of all American people.