I have witnessed my father’s tears, a testament to the aching desire to triumph in the face of elusive opportunities—a poignant sight that left an indelible mark on me.

The prevailing questions echo with judgment, questioning why individuals from other lands can’t thrive within their own borders, why they migrate to reap the benefits of foreign soil, why they struggle with language, customs, and norms. The questions persist, relentless and unforgiving.

My mother, prior to her arrival in the United States, was a stranger to the realm of technology, her hands never having grazed the keys of a computer. Despite being thrust into a world where she was at a distinct disadvantage, her resolve remained unshaken. Embarking on her journey, she overcame her trepidations and found her footing as a photographer in a flea market print shop. Reluctantly, I share these vignettes of our life, bracing for judgment, yet compelled by the belief that our stories carry a powerful message and deserve a voice.

Her fortitude became our compass. Now, from the comfort of my New York apartment, I reflect on my journey as a naturalized citizen, penning my narrative. My story is far from over; my ambitions and challenges are as real as ever. I harbor my emotions, for they run deep when I contemplate my past, present, and future. As an immigrant woman, I speak out, hoping to inspire others with my testament: If I can make it, so can you. If you’re here because of the title of my story, hold on to hope.

There will always be those who fail to grasp our reality, and that’s acceptable. Our mission is not to vindicate ourselves to others but to ourselves and to God.

Remember, each journey has its destiny. Yours may differ from mine, but the outcome can be equally triumphant. The secret is perseverance; never lose sight of your dreams. They are yours to achieve and no one else’s.

To be continued…