I am the daughter of Malaysian parents who moved to America about 17 years ago. My parent’s ultimate intention was so their children could have better opportunities and chances to grow up and be successful. I will be forever grateful for the choices my parents have had to make.
I am not a citizen, but I am a permanent resident. I feel like there’s some weird, negative stigma sometimes when people hear that. Growing up, my household was different. There was no Easter or traditional Thanksgiving dinner. There was the candy that would go on sale after Easter was over. There was the array of different foods waiting to be dunked into the soup of the Hot pot along with the turkey my mom prepared for our Thanksgiving dinner. Sundays were not spent at church but were spent in Chinatown in Buford Highway near Atlanta eating Dim Sum. I even tried going to church with my friends for a couple of weeks to feel like I fit in. After a while of trying to be like every other kid in the town, I stopped going because it just got complicated. My friends judged me for that and told me I should not treat it like a gym and go whenever I felt like it. What they didn’t know was I was trying to do two things that totally clashed so I could fit in. I know I would often get embarrassed when I could not relate when my friends would speak about certain things their family did. Looking back, I feel like an idiot for trying to do what everyone else was doing even if it did not feel natural.
Growing up, I’ll admit, I was ashamed of the fact that I was not like everyone else in school. I got caught up in trying to be a typical kid in America in fear that I would be made fun of. We did not do the traditional American things as much as I wish we did. Sleepovers at a friend’s house was often a huge struggle. Communication with other parents was limited because my parents did not speak fluent English. Friends did not understand that it was not because my parents did not like them, but it was because the language barrier made them feel like they did not know how to interact. Even if my household was different, we still had Christmas. We still celebrated New Years and Thanksgiving. We still did the “traditional” things. However, we celebrated it in our own way. Everything we did, we did it with immense joy, and it was always centered around family. Chinese New Years was always the best every year it rolled around. The gathering of family, watching firecrackers being set off, the lion dances and the red envelopes of money we would receive made a very exciting time.
While life in America is great, there has been hardships growing up in a different country. Plane tickets are expensive and spare time is hard to come by. Unfortunately, my family moving here means my grandparents and other family members are miles away. They are across the world. The hardest thing is knowing that my parents have given up the opportunity to be around their parents. My mom has lost both of her parents. She was not around for both of their deaths, and she also could not be around for the funeral processes. Fortunately, my dad was able to travel back to Malaysia these past two weeks before my grandpa passed away a couple of days ago. I get so sad knowing that I was not as close to my grandparents as much as others are. This did not take away from how much I love them and how much they love me. It was just strained because distance and communication was an obstacle. In addition, I wish I could see my aunts and uncles from my mom’s side. I wish I had the chance to grow really close to my cousins in Malaysia. When I do go back to visit, it’s like I never left. That’s what comforts me.
Time and money was always an obstacle growing up. It’s difficult watching my parents work constantly so they can give my sister and I the life they want us to have. I used to hate that my parents could not come to school events because they had to work. I know that they try to with my little sister now. I realize that because they had to work to keep food on the table, it meant having to skip out on certain things I know they wish they didn’t have to skip out on. It’s heartbreaking seeing them come home aching because they have been nonstop walking and standing all day trying to make a living. I am thankful that even though we might not have had as much as others growing up, we still had plenty. We were never without a meal or without what we wanted. We never had to experience that. Because my sister was born here, I hope that she will never forget the things my parents gave up before she was born. I hope that she is extremely proud of who she is when she grows up even if she has a different experience. I know I try my best to teach her right from wrong to make it easier on my parents. My parents still try to give us a normal “American” life while preserving our roots. In the end, as long as I have my family, nothing else matters because everything bad is just temporary.
Now that I don’t see my family everyday because of college, I am extremely proud of who I am and where I am from. I am proud of my culture because it makes up who I am along with the American culture. I have so much appreciation for what my parents have provided. So, Mom and Dad, I am so thankful for the sacrifices you have made.
Until we meet again, YeYe (grandpa), I’ll miss you.
HCXO!