There is, as they say, no playbook for parenting.
I have been on this ride for 21 years thus far, except on my ride, there is a little twist. I am a first-generation immigrant; my children were born American citizens. Our family is part of the diaspora Indian community in the United States.
So, I certainly never had a playbook for immigrant parenting. I have had to make one up over the years. And let me say if parenting is hard, immigrant parenting— figuring out your journey, your dreams, hopes, and rules for your children –is very, very hard.
Moving to the US to raise a family was a great opportunity for many people in my generation. Immigration usually meant better jobs for the parents, a better quality of life, elevated economic status, improved education, and broader opportunities for the children. Only a few of us considered the challenges immigrants face, especially when it comes to parenting.
The Pressure to Conform When Facing Cultural Conflicts
When I finally understood that there was no playbook or formula to being an immigrant parent, it was almost too late. But when my husband and I realized that some of our choices had hurt our child, we began to rectify those choices. We kept the communication going so we could walk our child through the struggles he faced due to our mistakes.
One such struggle began when my son was 16. I remember hitting the floor on my knees, sobbing bitterly as the raised voices came in from the kitchen. My husband and son were in the middle of yet another argument about purchasing a car. Our son had his driver’s license, but we were unsure about buying a third vehicle for our family.
We did not believe that our young teenager needed a car to get to school when our school system provided buses. But nearly all our arguments fell flat against a man-child who was fighting against two cultures – the one that raised him and the other in which he lived.
Nearly 80% of the families around us purchased cars for their children when they got their licenses. Giving a child a set of wheels, either used or new, was the norm, a seeming rite of passage. It never crossed our minds that this issue would take the front-row seat in our family for the next four years. But it did, causing deep strife, pain, hurt, and misunderstanding between us and our child.
Prayers, Isolation, and Seeking Support
Looking back today, I remember some of the strange things I prayed for when it seemed our family would never have peace. I prayed that our town would have excellent public transportation so no one ever needed to buy their teens a car. I prayed everyone would send their high schoolers to school on the bus! I prayed that one other family would join me in this journey and be our community as we walked through this season. It was not that we would never buy him a car; we did not think he needed it at 16.
But my prayers were to no avail. I asked God why he would not answer me. Had he stopped listening to me? Did he not care? Could he not see the pain this was causing my family and the deep strife in my marriage?
No one around me understood me, and no one would join my family on this journey. Most people told us we probably had to buckle down and buy a car because the problems would worsen.
And worsen, they did. Without a car to take my son to multiple practices and after-school activities, I continued to be the family chauffeur, which caused tremendous strain on our marriage.
Challenging the Norms
A year before all this began, I innocently posted on our local Facebook page, asking how many parents were sending their children to high school on the bus. I was exhausted from driving my children to multiple schools and activities, and I was looking for support.
To my amazement, most parents commented that they would rather drive their children to school and later purchase a car instead of encouraging their students to ride the bus. There seemed to be some form of social status in giving your child a car instead of having them ride the bus as a high school senior. Seeing a senior student riding the bus was rare. One mother shared that the bus was meant for families from a lower income level, and her children could not associate with them.
All I could think was, while this might be the norm for many families, why were so many people against changing the norms? Why were the people I knew well, the ones I worshiped with at church, not walking alongside me on this journey?
If there had been one family to support us, then the pain might have been bearable. But even those who knew and loved us were unwilling to set aside their norms to help us navigate this season. There was a sense of, You have to do what the majority culture does, or you are on your own!
I walked away from that social media post flabbergasted and heartbroken.
Navigating Uncertainty In A New Culture
Parenting children in a new culture is a complicated journey for many immigrant parents. In our country of origin, we are more confident of our footing and the choices we make for our children. In a new country where systems, processes, and choices are different and varied, immigrant parents don’t always know what to do. We cannot foresee the outcomes of our choices because the options are unfamiliar, and we have no idea what will happen.
This puts tremendous pressure on our children. As immigrants, even those of us at a higher social and economic status, there is always an underlying need to work hard to prove ourselves. You work hard to provide for your family. You never want people to judge your life or choices. All of this is true for both parents and children. Leaving your homeland for a foreign place and starting over is a choice that immigrants make, so there is pressure to do it right in the early years.
There is always uncertainty in parenting, but when you start from a place where everything is new, you have a steep learning curve. Sadly, culture and community don’t give you the space to adapt to the learning curve. Your child will be left behind if you don’t catch on quickly.
The Immigrant Parent’s Burden
Other factors are at play for immigrant parents. Many of us struggle with giving up everything familiar to migrate to a new country. If we make choices for our children that go against the norms of our new country (as with the car decision), we feel guilty when our children struggle due to those choices.
Also, our children do not appreciate their parents talking about sacrifices made back in our country of origin, or what their grandparents did to make their new life possible. Third-culture children often do not understand the parental origin story, so those sacrifices do not matter to them. To make matters worse, we parents experience guilt for talking about those sacrifices with our children. We exasperate our children when we tell them that they had better choose the life they are being given because we are trying to provide them with a better life than they could’ve had in our home country.
For the Immigrant Parent: Finding Balance and Belonging
It is essential to balance your cultural heritage and your current identity, to belong to both places and find a community that understands, loves, and accepts you for who you are. Finding a community that will help you raise your children and understand your challenges is crucial. Parenting is hard, but parenting children as immigrants in a diaspora culture is much more challenging. If you are willing to learn, adapt, and grow, the journey will be one of joy and sorrow, laughter and tears, but in the end, it is worth taking.
If I could go back and do things differently, I don’t know what I would do. Immigrant parenting has taught me to be comfortable with the uncomfortable and the unfamiliar. Plenty of diaspora immigrant families have adapted well to the culture of their adopted country and home.
That is the beauty of diaspora culture. Immigrant families can find a balance between the worlds they are a part of. You create your culture, give it language, and put skin on bones to create something beautiful and new. It is good for immigrant families to hold onto some of the traditions and rhythms of their country of origin while letting go of others and building new ones.
I have felt God calling me out of my comfort zone my whole life, and parenting has been no different. As humans, we long for stability and comfort, but as immigrants, the unfamiliar has started to become my norm. Above all, it taught me to trust in El Roi, the God who sees.
When those around me let me down, I can trust in his faithfulness. He is the God who sees me and my children. I had to let go of the dreams I had for my children and trust the God who sees my family.
I am an imperfect parent who trusts in a perfect God. He never changes, no matter which continent I am on. His sacrifice for all of us reminds us of his love and faithfulness, which has carried me through some of my darkest nights. In him, we all have hope.
Immigrant parenting, while complicated, is a process of sanctification and spiritual formation for the parents and the children. Who was I becoming when I knew exactly what to do (in my home country), and who am I becoming when I have no idea what to do (in my new country)? Not having control over your plans for your children’s lives is panic-inducing. But letting go of control and trusting God is the safest place I have ever found myself. Laying the uncertainty at his feet and trusting his outcome is more than enough.
We embrace the complexities and the God who created us. We trust him and rest in the community he provides for us. We embark on this wild, crazy ride called parenting, finding our purpose in him while raising children who will love God and love people well.
Parents, Join us for Rooted 2024 in Dallas, Texas, October 24-26!
