Connecting with a Piece of My Parents
By Anusha Mathur, University of Pennsylvania '25
September 7, 2022
The immigrant experience is often simplified into cliches, like booking a one-way ticket and never looking back. I always wondered what it might be like to move to a new country and this past summer, I got a little taste of it. I moved to Argentina to participate in the Social Impact in Buenos Aires GRIP Program.
Beforehand, all that I felt was excited to explore a new city and work at an Argentine company. So, when I arrived in Buenos Aires, I wasn’t fully prepared for the culture shock I was about to experience. I didn’t realize how challenging it would be to be surrounded by co-workers who I couldn’t fully understand (my internship was all in Spanish), how much I would struggle to communicate in a non-native language in my daily life, and how out of place I would feel walking on the streets of a city I had no familiarity with.
Of course, after a couple of weeks, I gained my footing in Buenos Aires and adjusted to life in my new city. While living and working entirely in Spanish never stopped being challenging, my supervisor at my company, Flor, put a lot of thought and care into giving me tasks aligned with my interests. My projects were stimulating, challenging, and meaningful (I especially enjoyed visiting four recycling centers to gain incredible hands-on experience with recyclability and sustainability).
So, eventually, that culture shock faded away. However, experiencing that initial struggle of transitioning to life in a new country made me pause and reflect on my identity and sense of self. Most importantly, it made me think of my parents. Both of my parents were the first in their families to move to America. Did my mom and dad feel homesick immediately? When did the reality fully sink in that they were not going back to India? I have always looked up to my parents, but I began to feel immense admiration for them and the strength they exhibit on a daily basis living in a country so different from the one they grew up in.
I gained a new perspective on what it means to be an immigrant. Being an immigrant is both an experience and an identity. While of course, I can’t compare my 2-month internship to a permanent move to a new country, I now relate to my parents in a new way. I understand what it is like to constantly be surrounded by a language that is not your own. I understand the frustration of criticizing yourself when you say a word wrong. I understand the feeling of not knowing whether you’ll find your place in a new country.
I always knew my parents were immigrants. But I now appreciate a part of their identity that I hadn’t fully understood before. I now understand one more piece of their hearts.