Imperfect Destinations – In Dialogue With Ruoyi Shi

Photo of Ruoyi Shi by Evelyn Hang Yin. Courtesy of the artist.

Ruoyi Shi (b. 1996, China) works with objects, text, and video to construct poetic narratives surrounding folklore, mythology, and personal memories. After receiving her bachelor’s degree in sculpture from the Central Academy of Fine Arts in Beijing, Shi moved to the US in 2019 to pursue an MFA at CalArts on an F-1 visa. Having now received her O-1 status, she lives and works in California. As part of IMPULSE’s conversation series, Migration in Dialogue, the interdisciplinary artist discusses heritage, community-building, and diplomatic reciprocity.

JW: What was your O-1 experience like?

RS: I graduated during the peak of COVID, so when I was preparing to apply for the O-1 during my OPT year, there weren’t many opportunities. Many open studios and large residencies were canceled. My friends and I had trouble finding space for our thesis shows. I ended up applying for many projects outside my comfort zone. One asked me to host a dinner event for 50 Cincinnati residents, and I had no prior experience cooking for other people, but at the end of the day, I got to step out of my comfort zone and explore different places.

Things got quite odd after I turned in my application in 2022 because I had to wait a whole year for USCIS’s decision. The average turnaround time is three months, but when I applied, my lawyer told me the wait time was closer to ten months. Ten months later, I still didn’t hear anything, so I paid for premium processing (which most lawyers wouldn’t recommend). I had to expedite the process because otherwise, many of my ‘plans’ reflected in the application would have turned into ‘past experiences,’ making my application materials less credible.

I couldn't work for pay during that entire year of documentation limbo. Issues like housing, health insurance, and getting a car were tricky because I didn’t have an active student status, nor was I on an OPT. There were opportunities I couldn’t apply for. It was frustrating because I kept thinking that the results might come through the next month, the month after … or the month after. At one point, I realized that the one-year wait time actually counts towards the duration of my visa. The uncertainty really takes a toll on your patience.

I didn’t realize how patient I could be until I found myself waiting for 12 months. Later this year, I will be turning in another application to renew my O-1. What’s not to love about proving that I’m extraordinary and special [laughs]? 

Ruoyi Shi, Han 琀 (2021). Three-channel video, 2:23 min, performance with ceramic, gummy candies, and ice. On view at Tin Flats, Los Angeles. Courtesy of the artist.

JW: Speaking of evidence for “extraordinary ability,” would receiving or not receiving the visa affect your self-validation?

RS: Not really. I know people who have received their EB-1 green cards but had their O-1 visas denied (you can apply for both at the same time). The evaluation process doesn’t define my artistic achievements because the people reviewing these applications don’t actually work in your creative field. I’m actually more inclined to question the process itself. 

JW: Many of your pieces evoke Chinese folklore and cultural history. Before you went back to China last year, you had gone almost five years without going back – how do you stay connected with China’s culture? Do you think your work will start to change as you spend more time here in the US?

RS: We become foreigners and the ‘other’ as soon as we leave home. Being a Chinese immigrant made me increasingly aware that it’s necessary to scrutinize how history gets written and how cultures interact. I live in Alhambra, one of the earliest areas settled by Chinese immigrants in California. Our local newspaper is in Chinese, and a lot of the residents are from mainland China, Taiwan, or South Asia. There’s also a big Latin population. These diverse communities use language and food differently; even within the Asian diaspora, there are differing perspectives on history, tradition, and culture. This place feels both familiar and unfamiliar. Because of this, I have been reflecting on my own culture a lot more.

That said, many references to traditional Chinese culture in my work are coincidental. For instance, a piece titled Han deals with this burial tradition of putting jade animal figurines in the mouth of the deceased. One of my friends learned about this at a museum and sent me a picture, just because it was interesting – that’s where I got the idea from. In another series, I referenced a story from the Records of the Grand Historian (史记), where messages in support of an important revolt were hidden in the bellies of cooked fish (鱼腹丹书). I thought of this one morning when I found a paper slip in a piece of pastry I got for breakfast. It was a light-bulb moment when I felt a sudden sense of serendipitous connection to my heritage.

Ruoyi Shi, Letter From Fish (2021). Online project with video and performance. Courtesy of the artist.

JW: How do you feel about living and working in the US, given the socio-political landscape?

RS: It’s complicated because, a lot of times, larger zeitgeists don’t become real to us until the policies impact us directly. I’m still getting ready to apply for O-1 renewal because, as an artist, I believe that the US is an ideal environment that sparks many ideas. Many motifs in my work stem from the clash of different cultures. I’m deeply interested in translation and language. As foreigners living with our non-native tongue, we often find ourselves questioning and reinventing our identity through language – it’s an almost involuntary process. This exploration exists exclusively when I find myself in a foreign environment.

I believe that regardless of what happens with this election, there are always ways to make space within our capacity. My friends and I sometimes talk about the impossibility of finding a perfect homeland or destination. Every place, no matter how romanticized, has its disappointments and harsh realities. If we can’t find the best opportunities, we must create them ourselves. Whether it's finding alternative spaces to hold exhibitions or sharing our experiences with each other, we can start small and gradually expand.

JW: Where do you call home?

RS: I grew up in Nanjing, but I'm not really from there. My parents' and even my grandparents' generations moved a lot around China due to the country’s development policies for its Western regions. Because of this, I don’t speak Nanjing’s local dialect or have a strong sense of belonging there. Feeling like a semi-stranger has always been my norm, which I’ve come to appreciate and enjoy.

My view of home as an adult centers around this eastern part of Los Angeles. Every time I drive back after traveling for work, it’s comforting to see those familiar roads and streets. While I don’t know if I can truly call it home, Alhambra does give me a sense of control, meaning that I know exactly where to find soy sauce at a grocery store, even with my eyes closed. Home is also a place you want to decorate, where you start a small collection of plates, mugs, and furniture. Before I knew I could stay, I never even bothered to buy a chair because I wasn’t sure how long I’d be there. 

However, when I visited China last year, what really struck me was that everything was completely different from what I remembered. I left when I was 22, as an adult, and I hadn’t been away for that long; there shouldn’t have been such a huge discrepancy and level of change. But everything felt different. Even the roads near my grandparents’ house, which I last saw only five years ago, became unrecognizable. The place I once felt belonged to me no longer does.

On the one hand, something about society and the overall atmosphere has changed, partly because technology and policies are constantly in flux. I also think it’s because I started taking on more responsibilities as an adult after coming to the US. In China, I had been quite sheltered in a school environment or under my parents’ protection. My perspective on society was different then. Spending these formative years in the US taught me to rely on myself for stuff like getting a license, getting insurance, and finding an apartment. This shift made my so-called “hometown” feel unfamiliar, as I morphed into who I am today and looked at everything through a new lens.

With the passing of older generations and some relatives, the place I once considered my hometown feels so distant. For me, a hometown isn't just a location; it's where your loved ones are, where there's a sense of familiarity – a place you can return to. But now that those people are gone, I wonder whether it can still be called home, even if the parks, trees, and flowerbeds are the same.

JW: What advice would you give to people applying for the O-1? What did you wish you knew?

RS: It's not that hard, but you should prepare early. The key is to adjust your mindset. At the end of the day, the visa can’t decide whether you are an ‘extraordinary’ artist. Don’t lose sight of your own judgment because of this system.

Friends are really important. Many opportunities and projects will come from the support of your friends. Even in places that don’t feel like home, don’t let yourself become completely isolated. Build your own connections, communities, and even create an alternative family. 

JW: If you could talk to immigration policymakers, what do you wish they knew?

RS: First of all, please make the O-1 visa a multiple-entry visa* for Chinese passport holders. When I went back last year, I had trouble getting my passport restamped. At the US Embassy, they told me that the information I submitted didn’t match my records in the system. Even with the plane tickets bought and everything, I didn’t receive the visa stamp on the spot. I had to undergo administrative processing; my lawyer had never encountered this and basically just had to tell me to stay patient and wait. 

Artists like us often have opportunities outside the US that we can’t pursue due to visa issues. Before traveling, we have to plan far in advance and sacrifice a lot. And there’s no guarantee that the job you had before leaving will still be yours when you return, as you need to set aside at least a month for this. And even then, the process isn’t foolproof; there can be unexpected delays and risks like what happened to me.

That said, I understand that immigration legislation isn't a one-sided issue; diplomacy is very much based on reciprocity. China has a long way to go before it becomes truly welcoming to foreigners. I just wish that there is, in general, a more friendly environment for people who want to live in another country. There’s a reason why we chose to leave our once-homeland and become ‘foreigners.’ It’s fair to say that there’s a desire to escape, a hope to create our own history on this journey. In many cases, we made these choices because we didn’t want to be trapped in one place or institution. I wish I could tell my younger self that even in a new place, you can still feel trapped. You can't idealize any situation.

Ruoyi Shi, Etymology of Translation –The Birdcatcher’s Bird (2024). 15” x 9.5” x 3”, found objects, graphite, wood, and metal hardware. Courtesy of the artist and GOBI, Los Angeles.

JW: This sentiment reminds me of your work, Etymology of Translation –The Birdcatcher’s Bird, in which you evoke letters tied to birds’ feet.

RS: When creating that piece, I actually looked into some of China's historical foreign policies. In ancient times, the spread of language and writing was limited, and many things were closed off to foreigners. Many who wanted to connect with other countries and cultures became martyrs. I found it sad that this lack of openness and the emphasis on tradition have persisted for so long. The world is supposed to be constantly in a state of dispersion and convergence.

It feels as if we always have to shoulder many unresolved historical issues, not knowing if we’re moving forward or backward. We’re all searching for the one "right" answer, but it never crossed our mind that there might not even be one. The flaws of every country, such as anti-immigrant sentiments, mirror those of each other.

JW: Anything you’d like to add?

RS: Dealing with immigrant rights is so important because we are a large population with significant needs, but we’re often left without options. Rather than just figuring out how to solve each problem as it arises, we should consider how we can collectively fight against these issues, standing a little taller and asserting ourselves more.

I wish it were easier to access information. When I was in China, it felt like a huge challenge to understand the ins and outs of visa applications. Later, I realized I wasn’t taught how to search for information effectively. This is why many people who are new here, maybe just a year or two in, might quickly dismiss opportunities like the O-1 visa because they think it’s impossible. But if they had more information upfront, they might realize it’s not as difficult as it seems. You can’t decide you’re not qualified without giving it a shot first.

—

This interview was conducted in Mandarin Chinese and was edited for length and clarity.

—

*Note from the editor: As of August 2024, the O-1 visa is a multiple-entry visa for most foreign nationals but remains a single-entry visa for Chinese nationals. These policies are subject to change in the future. Please consult uscis.gov and a licensed attorney for up-to-date information.

—

The information provided on the website of IMPULSE Magazine does not, and is not intended to, constitute legal advice; instead, all information, content, and materials available on this site are for general informational purposes only. Information on this website may not constitute the most up-to-date legal or other information. Readers of this website should contact their attorney to obtain advice with respect to any particular legal matter. Use of and access to this website or any of the links or resources contained within the site do not create an attorney-client relationship between the reader, user, or browser and website authors, contributors, contributing law firms, or committee members and their respective employers.

—

You Might Also Like:

Image, Object, and Compression with Asher Liftin

Queer Love, Everywhere: A Conversation with Omar Mismar

Lost in Time: Serbian Filmmaker Returns to Once-Forgotten Memories