How Having Immigrant Parents Changed Me: Personal Experience

In this essay, I will explore the profound impact of having immigrant parents on my upbringing and perspective. Growing up, I had the unique opportunity to bridge the gap between my life in the United States and the experiences of my parents in Belarus, a country with its own set of challenges and hardships. These contrasting worlds have shaped my values, work ethic, and resilience, ultimately influencing the person I have become today.

6:00 AM, small industrial town of Zhodino, Belarus. Summer 2008. I reluctantly boarded the bus, immediately noticing that it was absolutely packed. The bus, of course, was to my grandmother’s dacha, a cottage where she grew and tended to what I have always considered to be an absurd amount of crops, all by herself. After standing cramped like sardines for an hour, and then walking along a muddy path for twenty minutes, we finally arrived at my grandparents’ dacha. I was absolutely exhausted, but we were just getting started. At any given moment in the next seven hours I was being forced to dig or pick some sort of crop out of the ground.

Through all of my tantrums and complaining that day, my grandmother continued working and just kept telling me to do the same. When 2 PM finally rolled around, I was so happy to be going back to her apartment that I found the energy to run through most of the muddy path. Once we got to the bus stop, however, I was devastated to learn that we were not going home, but to the local farmer’s market. My grandmother spent the next 2 hours selling the crops she had unearthed that day, while I was passed out with my face on the raggedy old tablecloth she used.

For my parents, that full day of manual labor was a very common way to spend their summer days growing up. Before they immigrated to the United States in 1998, they had grown up in Belarus, which was a part of Soviet Union at the time. Even as a self-reliant nation today, the country continues to struggle under a dictatorship; a relic of the totalitarian Past. Not quite North Korea, but with certain similarities. And while I was raised in a much more financially stable household in Texas, my parents helped me to understand how fortunate I was by bringing me back to their home country with them most summers growing up.

I have seen what it is like to stay in a country in crisis, and after every summer I have returned home to Texas with a more positive outlook on life. I’ve been able to encourage myself through even the most stressful points in my life by simply thinking about how much more serious my problems may be if my parents hadn’t worked as hard as they did to make it out of Belarus. If I hadn’t returned to Belarus every summer and seen how food prices were always rising and how my grandmother’s pension was always dropping, it is unlikely that I would be able to understand other people’s misfortunes and suffering as well as I am now. Because of these humbling experiences, I’ve spent a plentiful amount of time volunteering for CCA Food Pantry, the Texas Ramp Project, and the North Texas Food Bank.

Since my parents have always had a serious understanding of what can happen without self-sufficiency and hard work, I was raised somewhat differently than most of the kids around me were. While my some of my friends’ parents would essentially nanny them through many of their problems, I was taught from a very young age that I would have to take care of certain things on my own. When I was eight years old and told my dad I was interested in woodworking, he gave me a hammer, nails, and some wood and said “Build a table then.” When I told my mom I wanted to join my first basketball league when I was seven, she told me “That’s great, but you’ll have to sign up yourself, I’m very busy at work right now.”

Events like these were clearly nowhere near traumatic, and my parents have always given me everything I’ve ever needed. However, they did help me to learn self-sufficiency and perseverance, because while I had never built anything in my life or used a computer for anything other than gaming, I had to figure these problems out on my own. Because of the way I was raised, I realized from a young age that complaining wouldn’t get me anywhere. Resiliency, however, would. I eventually built that table and figured out how to sign up for that league, and while the table only had one leg and I accidentally sent my registration to the YMCA in Arkansas, I learned through episodes like these that if I was dedicated enough, I could achieve my goals. Being raised by two immigrant parents has been very influential in my maturation. The values they have instilled in me, along with the perspective I’ve gained by visiting their old homes in Belarus, have made me a more determined and unselfish person. I would not be where I am today if it wasn’t for my unorthodox upbringing.