As with almost every month of this year, I really don’t know how the days flew by. Somehow we’re already at the end of September. To think that I am slowly approaching the end of my senior year in college and will soon step into the post-grad life is crazy. Maybe it’s the perspective that being a senior in college affords, or maybe it’s just me being in my feels, but I’ve spent a lot of this month feeling thankful for the people and the opportunities I have in my life; It’s felt nice to re-enter the part of my brain where I’m able to think beyond myself and feel thankful, which can definitely be a challenge. I hope that this article helps you reflect on your own life honestly. There are parts of myself that I’m not proud of in this article, and also some parts that I’m embarrassed to admit. But recognizing your shortcomings helps you encounter surprising and genuine realizations about the ways that you are loved more than you know :)
My “revelation” for this month finds its roots in recruitment. I am currently in the process of recruiting for a full-time job. And before I go on, might I be completely honest here and say, I don’t know what I’m doing. Ok, it’s not that I don’t know what I’m doing but…. No yeah, I guess you could say that I don’t know what I’m doing LOL. Thank God that I have some sort of direction and have been able to build relationships with some amazing people, but with the current job market… ok I’ll stop.
No one likes to have their guard down, but I feel like because of that we run the risk of needing to act like we have it all together all the time. I don’t know about you but I feel like there is this need and pressure to have your life figured out and to have “big things” lined up for you in the coming future. There’s this toxic mentality that you need things to show off in order to show up–that you need to measure up to those around you in order to keep your chin up, or even just look at people in the eyes confidently. Maybe you’ve experienced this…?
If you’re a senior in college the looming question that people may always ask is what you’re planning on doing after you graduate. If you’re a freshman, it’s what you want to major in. Sophomores and juniors may feel the pressure to have a big name internship lined up for the summer. If you’re out of college, maybe you’ve even been getting questions about when (and not if) you plan on getting married.
I’m not saying that being curious and asking these questions are inherently bad. If they were, I would be guilty as charged. What I’m trying to get at, and what I have been pondering, is the motive behind why we ask these questions in the first place.
I’ve noticed that the older I get, the more people fixate on your next step–where you are going as opposed to where you are now. But who really ever knows where they’re going! At least for me, I’m still figuring it out… and I think that’s ok. Heck, I didn’t even know what recruiting meant like three years ago.
One of the major things I’ve learned during my time in college is that in this world, where people are extremely diverse and have their own sets of passions, everyone has their own path and everyone runs on their own timeline. It’s fine to say that you’re still figuring it out; you shouldn’t be pitied or feel any less than. There’s nothing wrong with not knowing what will come and enjoying that process. You don’t have to have everything figured out.
As I embark on this journey to become a full-fledged adult, I’ve come to think a lot about the people who have paved this way for me. I’ve come to think a lot about my family, specifically my parents. My roommate and I had a conversation about family history towards the beginning of September. And since then, I’ve come to respect, admire, and appreciate my family in new ways. I found myself at a loss for words when I realized how indebted I am to my parents.
Growing up there were many moments when I felt the impacts of having two working immigrant parents. Whether it was not having both of my parents at my sports games when all the other kids did, having to always find a ride, being self-conscious about the fact that English wasn’t my parents’ first language, I would harp on these things frequently. There would even be times when I would point these things out to my parents. I was jealous of the kids whose parents would coach our soccer teams, take on the role of “team mom,” or spearhead PTA meetings…parents who didn’t need to have their kids explain to them what they needed to do, why, and how because they just knew–in other words, parents who grew up in America.
Now looking back, I feel so ashamed and heartbroken about having held those things against my parents. Not only were the expectations I had unfair but they were also so hurtful. My parents were figuring things out as they were raising their kids, as all parents do. I feel so guilty for the things that I said and the things that I didn’t. It breaks my heart that I was so blind (and continue to be so blind) to the ways that my parents love on me. But I guess that’s the way it goes when our capacity to comprehend is limited by the visibility of our stage of life. I know that as I get older, I’ll continue to be humbled and at a loss for words by the depth and reach of my parents’ love. I’ll continue to shamefully kick myself when I realize my immaturity at every new corner of adulthood. And for that I’m thankful.
We always see what we don’t have but fail to recognize all the things that we do have…
As I begin to understand the weight, responsibility, fears, and decisions–upon others–that come with adulthood, I become more awestruck by my parents.
Here I am–privileged in my own regard and afforded with the familiarity of the culture and the life that surrounds–and I am just now coming to realize and appreciate the sacrifices and the grit it took for my parents to get me to this place. Sure it’s scary to not know what this post-grad experience will hold for me but to imagine how my parents must have felt? Jeez…
Immigrating to a foreign country in order to give my kids a chance at a better life? Crazy. I could never do that. What kind of water were my parents drinking because that is some next level sh…. I don’t know how they did that. I would actually lose it every day.
I, the youngest on both sides of my family, have benefitted immensely from all the experiences racked up by my parents and my brother. I have the luxury to learn from their mistakes and be guided in a better direction without even realizing or knowing how to acknowledge the gift I’m given.
My brother, the first in our family to “go through it all”–from grade school to now the work-life–has been my north star over the years. He is my Google search engine. Similar to the realization I had about my parents, I most definitely fail to recognize all that my brother has and continues to do for me as well.
The impact of being from an immigrant family looks different now. As I continue to look for work, I realize how much harder and scarier it must have been for my parents and my brother to navigate their lives in the States thus far. While getting older helps me understand my family more, it doesn’t give me a first-hand experience of what they went through. For as long as I am the youngest in my family, I’ll always be walking this life with a filtered lens–going through with thanks and the experience from many.
Moreover, as I continue to reflect on the person I’ve started to become over the years, I’ve wrestled with the idea of what it looks like to have a meaningful life in this world. In other words, I’ve been thinking about what it looks like to pursue work that is purposeful–one that serves others more than it serves myself. While this topic and the reason for how and why I seek this can be an entirely separate article on its own, the part I want to focus on here is the realization that it is a luxury to ponder over what kind of job I want.
I know that the “immigrant story” applies to and looks different for many, but I hope that the commonality of these stories doesn’t diminish the strength and struggle that reside in them. And in addition, the resilience that comes out of them.
Sure I didn’t have the white picket fenced home that was so heavily advertised with the American dream, but I have something worth so much more. My parents worked and continue to work their entire lives for me and my brother. They sacrificed the life that they could’ve had for themselves in order to give me and my brother a shot at better and greater opportunities to excel in the States. That kind of love, that level of sacrifice, is something beyond what my 21-year-old self can comprehend….But I’m slowly starting to.
Growing up I had thought, “man if only they knew.” If only they knew how much I was sacrificing for them, holding my tongue back, etc. But oh how little I knew.
I wasn’t missing out on anything. Man was I so blind and man do I take for granted everything that my parents do for me.
My parents have their own thoughts, feelings, and struggles–same with my brother. And yet, they almost always hold my concerns above theirs. What did I do to deserve that? I am so humbled and thankful. The examples set by my family, as they live life faithfully, honestly, and with love, resilience, and commendable character, is truly a tough act to follow. But remembering that we all live this life for a purpose greater than our own, I keep on–forever tied to my training wheels.
… and the things that we do have were all probably things we wanted at some point.
