Illuminating Micro-Stories: Documenting the Unspoken Experiences of Immigrant Families
Imagine the heartbreak of losing the person you loved dearly, a love you never wanted to end, and then finding yourself pregnant and raising your baby alone in a world where families shunned you for these circumstances. Imagine being forced to move to another country to hide the pregnancy and have family members stop talking to you because of your choices.
Well, this is exactly what happened to my mother. It’s her story to tell in depth, My mother’s story is one of great strength, resilience, and perseverance. It’s a story that deserves to be told and remembered, as it shaped her life and mine. I am the daughter of a Mexican American immigrant, and my mother’s experiences have greatly influenced who I am today.
If you’re a first generation, you know as well as I do our parents do not talk about these things. It is held in silence, and I am here to shine a light on stories that shape our Mexican American culture. I have few details, but enough to make sense of what happened to her and us and how it changed the trajectory of our lives. This story is entangled within many other micro-stories that shape her and me as the women we became.
While I cannot recount my mother’s experiences, I am intricately tied to her story because I was in her womb while these events unfolded. Instead of resting and enjoying her entry into motherhood, my mother had to make difficult decisions for us, including fleeing, some of which were forced upon her by her family. She was not a voluntary immigrant and was brought to this country by circumstances that changed her life path. Adjusting to life in America during the late 1970s meant that she had to learn a new language and navigate the nuances of a different culture.
My mother’s life events have contributed greatly to her strong work ethic, resilience, and even her pride, sometimes to a fault. These qualities have also been passed down to me. My mother’s father died at two years old, and the family’s patriarch was the oldest brother. He decided she should leave the rancho to the States to be with my mother’s older sister. You would think my grandmother would trump these decisions, but this was the way of the culture back then.
Of the twenty children my grandmother had born, my mother was the youngest, but only nine survived. My mother made the trek to come to the United States to be with my aunt. When my mother arrived, she began working cleaning offices and paid weekly rent to my aunt twenty-five dollars a week. Because I don’t know all the details of the events, I do know she slept on the floor while pregnant with me, another sacrifice my mother made. I can only imagine the circumstance my aunt was in to take in another person in a full home.
As this blog mentions, my mother’s story is part of a larger tapestry of micro-stories that have shaped her as a woman. After arriving in this country, her choices profoundly impacted my and our mother-daughter relationship, which proved challenging to navigate for many years. Understandably, most immigrants from her era don’t share their experiences of perseverance, as my mother was forced to leave a home she loved and faced significant obstacles that were not taken lightly in those times.
I want my mother to know she is a beacon of hope for other mothers and women fighting against cultural norms and societal marginalization. Her strength and sacrifices have made my successes possible; I am forever grateful. This is an attempt to make amends for the times we may have clashed without fully understanding the adversity she faced. Te quiero Ama.
This year in 2023, I will be a First generation College Graduate from Sam Houston State University, read my story here. I, too, went through adversity because my path was not a traditional one. This is why I plead the importance of sharing our stories as First Generation and Immigrant families by documenting them. There is power held within our stories that help us see patterns and break generational cycles. My mother pioneered and transformed her way here to the U.S., and her actions broke cycles that, perhaps at the time, she was unaware of. There’s power in sharing our stories and culture as a healing tool for growth, allowing us to understand where we came from and where we are headed.
1 Comment
Such a powerful testimony about your mamma!