Resilience Across Generations: A Mother and Daughter’s Journey as First Generation Immigrants

WRITTEN BY HAVNI RAMI

ILLUSTRATION BY DEREK ANDRADE

In 1994 my mother fulfilled her long-held dream of coming to America. Growing up in India she had always aspired to pursue higher education, a rare ambition for women in a culture where many were expected to stop schooling after high school, if they were even allowed to go that far. However, my grandfather defied these traditional expectations, encouraging his daughters to be financially independent. As a result, my mother earned a master’s degree in English before embarking on her journey to the United States. Upon arriving she found herself in a completely new world. The expectations she had formed about America, largely shaped by watching Western television shows like Bold and the Beautiful, Star Trek, and Remington Steele, painted a picture of glamour and endless possibilities. Yet, reality hit hard as she navigated the struggles of finding a home, a job, and a support system all while being a new mother in a foreign land.

Mother’s Struggles and Triumphs

When I asked my mother about her biggest challenges as a new immigrant in 1994, she recalled how difficult it was to find a stable place to live and secure employment. Determined to rebuild her career, she enrolled in Los Angeles City College classes. One of her professors, noticing her exceptional academic performance, questioned why she was taking classes instead of teaching them. Encouraged by this, she began applying for teaching positions across California, submitting over 50 applications before securing a position at Long Beach City College in 1997. From there her career flourished, leading to government job opportunities and a more stable life for our family. However, beyond professional struggles, my mother faced immense personal hardships. With little support, she had to learn how to navigate motherhood in a new country. Simple things like scheduling doctor’s appointments, figuring out bus routes, and understanding American healthcare became overwhelming tasks. She described the experience of taking the bus to the hospital while in labor with my older sister: “From 2:00 AM to 8:00 AM, I was in pain. When my contractions were five minutes apart, I knew it was time. Our tenant, Moses, had a small red sports car, and he took me to the hospital. The ride was bumpy, and I was in agony, but I made it. There were no painkillers or epidurals. I just endured it.” Despite these hardships, my mother never regretted coming to America. “I feel fortunate and blessed that God was kind to me,” she told me. “I would have gone crazy in India.” When asked what advice she would give to other immigrant women facing similar struggles, she shared: “Be ready to take anything that comes your way. Life throws curveballs, and you have to play the ball. Struggle is everywhere, it doesn’t matter what country you are in.”

A Daughter’s Perspective: The Weight of Being the Eldest

Growing up as the eldest daughter of an immigrant mother brought its own set of challenges. My older sister bore the responsibility of navigating life in America largely on her own. She had to figure out how to apply for college, manage schoolwork, and care for us, all while holding a part-time job to contribute financially. One story that stood out was her determination to experience her high school senior year like her peers. “We had financial issues, and mom couldn’t afford my senior package, prom, or Grad Nite at Disneyland,” she recalled. “So, I started selling chips at school until I saved up enough to afford it all and even had $20 left over.” The cultural gap between her and our mother was another challenge. Raised with traditional Indian values, our mother had strict rules: no sleepovers, no outings with friends, and a strong emphasis on academic excellence. “I grew up watching only Indian movies and listening to Indian music,” my sister said. “When I went to school, I got made fun of because I didn’t know American songs or pop culture. Kids would make fun of my lunches, saying they smelled stinky. I hated being Indian for a while.” Over time, however, she came to embrace her identity. “The biggest shift happened when I educated myself about my culture. When I grew up I realized ‘fuck everyone’ and I like being Indian.” Her advice to other eldest daughters in first-generation families? “Be patient. Say no when you need to, and stand up for yourself.”

The stories of my mother and sister reflect the resilience, perseverance, and strength of immigrant women. My mother came to America with little more than determination and a dream, and despite the struggles, she carved out a successful life. My sister, navigating the complexities of being raised between two cultures, learned to embrace her identity and independence.