I am the Daughter of Immigrants

With everything going on here at home and around the world right now, I wanted to share my perspective as a first generation-born Indian woman in America.

My parents immigrated here from India in the early 1970’s with very little to their name – they had a few dollars in their pocket and a hell of a lot of ambition.  Their story started just like every other immigrant – one filled with lots of angst, prejudice – but they worked really hard to set roots here.

   These are images of my mom and dad, just one of a handful of pictures they took before moving to the US, and they held onto these pictures like they were made of gold.  My parents grew up in the southern part of India, my mom near Chennai, and my dad in a more rural part of South India.  My dad lived on a farm, tended to livestock, learned how to swim in the river in front of his house and never bought a pair of clothes for himself until he was in college – his mother made all his own clothes.  My mother was one of ten children, all living in a small 2 bedroom apartment in Chennai.  Throughout their childhoods, my parents knew only two main things – study hard, and obey your parents.  

My dad came to the US in the early 70’s to go to college – he got his Masters and PhD here as well and went on to establish himself in the Biotech field.  My mom came to the US in 1974 because, well, she married my dad.  My parents had an arranged marriage, something which is fairly common even today in India.  Both my parents immigrated here out of necessity, and worked incredibly hard throughout their lives.  They tried very hard to keep their heads down, focus on their goal and not ruffle any feathers.  Some people find it hard to understand the scrutiny immigrants have been facing in the past few weeks – my parents have faced the same type of scrutiny their entire adult lives – it just wasn’t public knowledge then.  

I grew up with two parents who spoke a different language, came from a different country and just all around acted differently from me.  I used to hate the fact that they couldn’t understand why I wanted to go to the school dance, or go to the mall with my friends or go on a date with a boy.  I hated them for stifling me and not allowing me to do the same things my friends did all around me.

But now that I am a parent, I understand that they were being protective.  But not only that, they did not want me to experience the same type of prejudice and scrutiny they experienced when they came here.  They were different, and they knew it.  And they never wanted me to feel different or left out.  For a very long time, I didn’t feel different, I felt as though I was exactly like my friends.  Until I realized I wasn’t.

I can still remember the first time someone told me to “go back where I came from” – I was in 2nd grade, in 1987.  I remember being really confused at first, thinking “umm I was born in NJ, and we’re in NJ, so where am I supposed to go back to?” I didn’t think much of that incident until I started hearing things like that again – the first time I walked into a restaurant and the hostess seated a different party that came in after us and completely ignored us, or just after 9/11, when I couldn’t get within 500 feet of an airport without getting the side eye from every person thinking I was part of some terrorist group.  I let these prejudicial instances roll off my back, because they didn’t mean much, and I had first-hand understanding from my parents about how people from different cultures are viewed.

And then my 6 year old had someone tell him to “go back where he came from” – a 2nd generation-born Indian American boy (who was born in St Louis by the way!) and it made my blood boil.  He was just as confused as I was the first time I heard it, but unlike me, he doesn’t have parents who speak a different language, or moved here from another country, or even have an accent.  I look, act and talk just like him.  So for him to hear that was not only confusing but devastating.  He came home asking if we had to move back to St Louis – I told him we have a right to be here just as much as anyone else.

We all have a right to be where we choose to legally be, and it is our right and privilege as parents to teach our children that as well.  We have to accept each other as assets to our melting pot of a society, and stop alienating each other for the sake of “unity”.  

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Priya Amin
Priya Amin is a mom of two rambunctious boys, and is a serial entrepreneur. Her latest project is Flexable, a tech company helping parents and caregivers connect better, by allowing caregivers to intelligently "advertise" their availability. In the past, Priya worked in Corporate America for companies such as IBM and Nestle, before leaving to be a stay at home mom. She launched a successful consulting business called ROKI (named after her boys Ronin and Kirin) prior to launching Flexable, and enjoys the chaos of motherhood x work.