Immigration is constantly at the center of conversations in the U.S., but what often gets lost is the human side of the story. What does it actually feel like to uproot your life, move to a completely different country, and chase the promise of something better in a place as hopeful? As the child of immigrants and a college student surrounded by other children of immigrants or immigrants themselves, I felt compelled to explore this topic and share why the immigrant experience matters more now than ever.
Two stories, two paths
While both of my parents immigrated to the U.S. from India in the 90s for college, their experiences couldn’t have been more different.
My dad, Ranjeet Deshpande, came from a family that already had a foot in America. His father, a doctor, frequently traveled to the United States for work, along with other family members who had already settled there over the years, especially in the South. So even though he carried an Indian passport at the time, he had a built-in safety net when he moved to study Mechanical Engineering in South Carolina. With family nearby, his transition was smoother than most. He got an early taste of American culture and fully immersed himself in it. To this day, he still embraces his Indian roots, but considers himself thoroughly “all American.”
“Moving to America was both exciting and challenging. Having family here made the transition easier, but there were still obstacles, especially the loneliness and the shock of adjusting to a new culture. The presence of loved ones gave me comfort and helped me find my footing.”
– Ranjeet Deshpande
His 20s were filled with things he probably wouldn’t have seen back home — binging Friends and How I Met Your Mother, marveling at Broncos and Mustangs, and reminiscing about Taco Bell’s 99-cent menu. Even as a kid in India, he was surrounded by American influence, rocking Levi’s jeans and playing with Transformers, while his friends mostly only saw those things on TV. With his excitement over Thanksgiving dinner, his love for the U.S. Open and the NBA, and his long-lasting, slightly eccentric obsession with Florida, sometimes I swear he’s more American than I am — and I was born here. All of these things are reminders of how deeply he’s connected to the country he chose to call home.
My mom, Prachi Deshpande, had a different journey. She also came to the U.S. for college, attending Florida International University to study hospitality. However, unlike my dad, the only person she knew was her brother. Beyond him, she was entirely on her own. My mom’s world in India followed a very different rhythm — riding a scooter through town, sipping chai on the street corner, and working at the Taj Hotel in a sari and neatly tied bun.
So, when she transitioned from that modest, traditional upbringing to the flamboyant, fast-paced energy of Miami, it was a profound culture shock. She probably never imagined that years later she’d be working as a business analyst at Bank of America, now dressed in a sleek black blazer with a Hollywood blowout, balancing an infant on her hip while studying for her GMAT. She likely never pictured meeting her future husband in Atlanta and adjusting to his far more “experienced” American lifestyle.
Privilege & Perseverance
Their stories could not be more different, but together they shaped the way they built identity, belonging, and heritage in a new country. But their experiences also point to something larger: immigration has never been a one-size-fits-all story. It has always depended on timing, social class, connections, and sometimes, just plain luck.
For some, moving to America comes with built-in support, making opportunity feel accessible and even inevitable. For others, it’s a struggle just to survive, to navigate new laws, find a job, or make rent. That’s always been true, but in today’s political climate, the question of who “deserves” opportunity feels louder than ever. Immigration has always been about chasing stability while risking everything, and the reality of that chase changes drastically depending on who you are and when you arrive.
Even their paths into citizenship reflected this divide. Since many of my dad’s uncles had already been living in America for years, they secured green cards for themselves and their children. This meant my dad had one too, giving him a considerable advantage when it came to settling in and eventually becoming a citizen. He was considered a resident in-state student, while my mom arrived as an international student. She didn’t gain American citizenship until nearly a decade after they were married, while my dad had become a citizen beforehand. His situation smoothed the way for our family, but my mom still had to build her place on her own terms.
“It was a mix of excitement for what lay ahead and sadness at leaving everything familiar behind. The support of my brother and the Indian student community made the transition smoother. There was a shared love and spirit. We held each other’s hands and pushed one another to do better.”
– Prachi Deshpande
Their stories demonstrate how both privilege and perseverance play roles in shaping the immigrant journey. But it also raises a bigger question: what about those who don’t have any safety nets at all? No connections, no shortcuts, no leverage? What does the “American Dream” look like for them, even if they come from a well-off family back home?
My parents’ vastly different experiences demonstrate just how varied the immigrant journey can be. But what do these differences reveal about immigration in America, then and now? In part two of “’The American Dream’ Isn’t One-Size-Fits-All,” I’ll step back from examining my parents’ story to consider immigration through a broader lens, exploring what it means for the wider population today.