Year One — Marina Raydun

Marina is off to a rough start in the country of her dreams

Fresh off the plane from Belarus, this eleven year old cannot seem to catch a break. Her family is split in two, she doesn’t speak a lick of English, and there is a rusty fire escape outside her grandmother’s bathroom window that terrifies her. The adults around her are convinced that, by virtue of her age, she’s immune to true hardships. After all, they have bigger things to worry about than her overwhelm. But the complicated family dynamics and the complexity of becoming a middle schooler in Brooklyn, NY in 1994 prove that nothing is as easy as it is prophesied. Marina is in for a lonely and testing ride, seeking solace in the bright colors of American television and finding company in the music played on her second-hand stereo.
**What awaits Marina on this journey that is her Year One?**

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Reviews:

The confusion upon landing in NY, not being able to pinpoint the moment where the plane ended and the airport terminal started, sets the tone for this wonderfully humorous adventure from the viewpoint of a naive eleven year old Russian immigrant trying to decipher her new world. When Marina and her family finally stepped off the endless aircraft, it wasn't only the language barrier that isolated them. Marina Raydun seamlessly manages to insert us into the head of her younger self, thus offering us a front seat in the crazy ride that was her first year on American soil. -Mira Awad, Multidisciplinary artist and storytelling consultant
"This page turner is a thoughtfully observed first person account of the immigrant experience. Marina Raydun carefully leads us on a journey via the hormonal and overwhelmed point of view of a preteen who seamlessly see-saws between wide-eyed wonder and snakiness. As if coming of age itself is not hard enough, Marina has to navigate a new country, a host of new family members who don't appreciate the challenge of her experience, and the wonder that is Brooklyn in the mid-90s. Hilarious and heartbreaking in turns, this touching memoir is full of unforgettable characters who will surely have you laughing, shaking your head, and wondering how Marina Raydun manages to paint such a vivid portrait of a family that feels just like your own. As relatable today as when Marina's family landed in New York, this story is just what America needs right now." -Anna Abramzon, Judaica Artist

Launch Party

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As I was a minor, I had to pose for visa photos alongside my mom. Circa 1993.

Very first picture taken in America. Roughly first week of July 1994. Kings Highway, Midwood, Brooklyn

My incredibly short stint as a model.

That first fall, we often had Friday night dinners at our old neighbors’ apartment. I’m filled with anxiety over the weekend’s homework assignments but I am smiling.

Abundance and affordability of food floored us all upon arrival. Particularly the availability of fruits year round! Big Banana, Kings Highway, Brooklyn.

My prized Italian leather sandals. It took a while to learn not to wear them with socks.

Almost 12!

First time at a Russian restaurant in Brooklyn. A raucous affair in the 90s. A Soviet suit on dad, a custom made in Belarus dress on mom, a $10 clothing store ensemble on me.

Mom feeding me American sour cream at bedtime. 1994

My Soviet report card, interpreted.

My copy of Michael Jackson’s Dangerous. One of the very few things I’d brought over with me. It saw me through some of the hardest days of Year One.

Took me a while to grow into my English handwriting.

One of the first field trips in America. We had a few in 7th grade. 1994.

I was proud to show off my American school in a picture even though I could barely breathe inside it most days. December 1994.

A trip to see the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center. It took a while to realize that Christmas and New Year’s are not synonymous.

SonyWonder was like sci-fi for me in 1994.

School lunch was my daily savior. Cheeseburgers, pizzas, chocolate milk… And then I’d go home and eat some more.

Jack London…

Acid wash jeans, Belarusian sweatshirt, my first Star of David, the pink armchair sold to us as part of a used furniture set, and perpetually red-rimmed eyes. Winter of 1994/1995.

The only two pieces of clothing that saw me through the entire scorching summer of 1994. By summer of 1995, they’d finally been demoted to home wear.

My grandmas in 1995.

In the spring of 1995, I’d written to Jaleel White. I was excited to get a response!

Our first apartment building. We’d stayed 18 months.

I never thought I’d be able to fit into this dress and am so thankful to the generous girl who lent it to me for a fancy family party. Not only did it save my family from spending money we didn't have, it also worked wonders for my body image and self-esteem. May 1995.

Things had changed by 8th grade. For the better. Yearbook picture, class of 1996.

1995-1996. I could read (not age appropriate) novels in English by then!

Mom waiting for my sister to arrive at the JFK arrivals terminal. June 1996.

8th grade graduation. By then, I had friends, I had my family, and I had hope.

Storytellers & Wild Creatives Podcast Interview

Episode 57: A conversation with Marina Raydun author of Year 1 No Limits Podcast

Reviews:

A front seat in the crazy ride that was her first year

Hilarious and heartbreaking in turns, this touching memoir is full of unforgettable characters

Launch Party