for SL
Senior year is arguably the most iconic time in the classic American adolescence we watch in movies and TV shows. This year, the class of 2023 are the ones voting for Homecoming Court, applying to colleges, getting our senior pictures and superlatives, and soon attending prom and graduation. As someone with non-American parents I often feel like I’m several steps behind on these traditions.
My mother and father grew up in Argentina and Mexico respectively, which slightly disconnects me from my peers whose parents went to American high schools. These American-accented parents, it seems, always know exactly what’s going on, and exactly how to help. They have bake sales on their calendars and professional senior picture photographers on call. This feeling that I'm always behind has always made it seem like these parents are better at being high schoolers than me.
I barely understand what I’m supposed to do at what time, and after I learn late I have to go and explain what it is to my parents as well.
As this cycle bubbles up to the surface again with senior traditions, it reminds me of similar experiences I had in my childhood. Until starting school, I hadn’t realized my family was any different from anyone else’s, but even in elementary school, my peers were eager to let me know. I found out my parents had accents in fourth grade, when a girl in my class bluntly asked my mother to her face, “Why do you talk like that?” When I asked my mom if it bothered her, she said no. She has a PhD in her second language, and what a nine year old has to say about how she speaks does not affect her. What I learned then was exactly what I have to remind myself now: you should not be mad at your parents for not being American, but rather at America for not welcoming you and your family.
I think many first-generation Americans would agree with me that, in five years time, we will be much more grateful to speak our languages and have our extended families and deep cultures than we would have been to have ordered a corsage earlier. Not only are our parents the reason we are here, and extremely smart and capable people, but they have given us a new opportunity. Rather than being in a shadow, having to either follow our parents route or consciously divert from it, we can forge our own path. There is little precedent of what someone in my family might do growing up in the U.S., so I can do something new. All in all, children of immigrants have the perspective and background to change things here—our differences are a great asset, and we should remember to thank our parents for them.
Senior year is arguably the most iconic time in the classic American adolescence we watch in movies and TV shows. This year, the class of 2023 are the ones voting for Homecoming Court, applying to colleges, getting our senior pictures and superlatives, and soon attending prom and graduation. As someone with non-American parents I often feel like I’m several steps behind on these traditions.
My mother and father grew up in Argentina and Mexico respectively, which slightly disconnects me from my peers whose parents went to American high schools. These American-accented parents, it seems, always know exactly what’s going on, and exactly how to help. They have bake sales on their calendars and professional senior picture photographers on call. This feeling that I'm always behind has always made it seem like these parents are better at being high schoolers than me.
I barely understand what I’m supposed to do at what time, and after I learn late I have to go and explain what it is to my parents as well.
As this cycle bubbles up to the surface again with senior traditions, it reminds me of similar experiences I had in my childhood. Until starting school, I hadn’t realized my family was any different from anyone else’s, but even in elementary school, my peers were eager to let me know. I found out my parents had accents in fourth grade, when a girl in my class bluntly asked my mother to her face, “Why do you talk like that?” When I asked my mom if it bothered her, she said no. She has a PhD in her second language, and what a nine year old has to say about how she speaks does not affect her. What I learned then was exactly what I have to remind myself now: you should not be mad at your parents for not being American, but rather at America for not welcoming you and your family.
I think many first-generation Americans would agree with me that, in five years time, we will be much more grateful to speak our languages and have our extended families and deep cultures than we would have been to have ordered a corsage earlier. Not only are our parents the reason we are here, and extremely smart and capable people, but they have given us a new opportunity. Rather than being in a shadow, having to either follow our parents route or consciously divert from it, we can forge our own path. There is little precedent of what someone in my family might do growing up in the U.S., so I can do something new. All in all, children of immigrants have the perspective and background to change things here—our differences are a great asset, and we should remember to thank our parents for them.