By Nadia Rivas
Being the daughter of immigrants has shaped every part of who I am. My whole family is from Mexico, except me. I am the only one born in the U.S., and with that comes a unique mix of privilege, responsibility, and pressure. My parents came to the U.S. with nothing but a dream 16 years ago. They worked tirelessly for hours, leaving my older brother to care for my sister and me while my parents worked two jobs trying to stay afloat. Their sacrifices have allowed me to experience things they never did, and I carry that with me every single day.
As of recently, being a child of immigrants has felt more complicated than ever. The headlines are filled with topics concerning immigration policies and who goes where. Sometimes, it feels like society views my parents and, by extension, me as outsiders, constantly having to prove we belong here.
Growing up, I had to learn how to navigate two cultures. At home, I spoke Spanish and celebrated Mexican culture that isn’t normally celebrated by everyone. I watched my parents work tirelessly to make sure we had everything we needed. My parents took on physically long, demanding jobs that many wouldn’t last an hour doing. They never complained or tried to take the easy way out, they followed what they were taught their whole lives, which was work. Neither of my parents got the opportunity to finish school. My mom stopped going to school during middle school to begin work and help provide for her family. My dad stopped going right after high school to begin a search for a job and a way to get to the U.S. for new opportunities. They did what they needed to do because they had no other choice. My sibling had to grow up fast and take on responsibilities to help our family move forward.
Outside of home, I had to deal with needing to fit in, constantly worrying about being ‘American enough’ while never losing touch with where I came from. Many children of immigrants feel this constant push and pull. We translate documents, fill out forms, and help our parents navigate a system that wasn’t built for them. We become the bridge between two worlds, expected to carry the weight of our families’ dreams while also finding our path in life.
In recent events, the immigration debate has grown more divisive. Policies are changing, rhetoric is more acrimonious, and communities like mine feel the tension. When legislators argue about immigration, they’re not arguing about abstract policies; they’re arguing about real people, families like mine who’ve called this country home for 16 years, who work, pay taxes, and contribute to the vitality of our society.
It’s hard to see immigrants depicted as threats, burdens, or numbers rather than as humans with stories, challenges, and dreams. My parents aren’t job thieves or criminals; they are decent human beings who have sacrificed everything for the future of their children. But too often, the truth is overshadowed by a narrative that attempts to belittle their contributions.
There is also the expectation that immigrant kids must be perfect in everything they do. Because our parents gave so much of their lives for ours, we are met with an expectation to never fail, do good in school, and work so we can do everything they never did. We strive to get good grades, have stable careers, and achieve the American dream— not for ourselves but for the people who made it all possible.
The pressure can get overwhelming. While many teenagers may worry about getting their license, their prom dress is a typical teenage problem. I carry an additional weight of responsibility. I don’t just dream for myself; I dream for my family and the generation that came before us who never got the opportunity to.
Despite these challenges, being a daughter of immigrant parents is something I wouldn’t trade for the world. It has taught me resilience, gratitude, and the power of hard work. My parents’ dedication and perseverance have instilled an everlasting appreciation for every opportunity that comes my way. I know that their sacrifices aren’t all mine, but they are a testament to their sacrifices, to the 16 years they have spent crafting a life here, and their values of patience and community by which they live each day.
Yes, at times, the world can be hostile. Yes, the expectations can be overwhelming. But our experiences matter. We are the future: doctors, teachers, leaders, and changemakers. We are living proof that immigrants don’t tear a country apart; they make it greater.
No matter what policies are being thrown our way, one thing is for sure: we belong here, just as much as everyone else, and we are not going anywhere. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.