The author in Old Greenwich, Connecticut, during a stop on her "50 States Project." Courtesy of Shari Leid From coffee shops to dive bars to restaurants with white table linens, I found a kind of joy that’s hard to put into words. It’s a joy that’s woven into the fabric of shared meals, echoing laughter and the exchange of stories that flow as easily as the wine in our glasses.
This journey, affectionately known as my “ 50 States Project ,” morphed from a simple goal into a profound exploration to find happiness, belonging, connection and a deeper understanding of myself — a narrative deeply entwined with my unique heritage. Adopted from South Korea by a Japanese American couple, I’ve always lived at the intersection of multiple identities. My father was born in 1922 in the basement of a rental home on Main Street in Seattle, while my mother’s roots trace back to her birth in 1929 on Bainbridge Island, a 30-minute ferry ride from Seattle.
Their lives, and in turn, mine, were forever altered by the events of Dec. 7, 1941. The bombing of Pearl Harbor and the subsequent internment of more than 120,000 Japanese Americans under Executive Order 9066 cast a long shadow over our family narrative, embedding a sense of cautious belonging that followed us through generations.
Advertisement For my family, travel was tinged with the remnants of these fears. The echoes of internment camps, World War II and its lingering aftermath shaped a world where movements were guarded .
