Was Your Sacrifice Worth It?

Our identity is heavily influenced by our story.?

It’s built on the foundations of where we come from, the languages we speak, the belief systems we uphold, and the situations that have brought us to where we are today.

It’s also influenced by our relationships. With our parents, our friends, our partner… and our children.

That’s a big one, right?

Living away from my parents, becoming best friends with them, and using cultural intelligence to navigate through our (previously) messy relationship… I’ve always secretly wondered…

“Are my parents happy?”

“Do they think their sacrifices were worth it?”

“Do they ever regret their sacrifices?”

“What if they didn’t have kids, would they have left Iran?”

This article is written from a curious daughter’s point of view. It isn’t supposed to share my parents’ story (that’s their story to tell), nor is it supposed to make any assumptions about what parents of immigrant, refugee, or third-culture kids think or act like.

These are my questions that I’ll take to my parents one day and ask (and hopefully receive an honest answer to)!

The Immigrant/Refugee Parent-Child Dynamic

First, let me share that immigrant and refugee stories are not all the same. There are similarities, of course, but the experience can be so different.

We became refugees when I was 4 years old and my parents were in their early 40's. We left Iran and were placed in Italy, in refugee housing, until a few years later when we were sponsored to come to the United States - landing in New York City.

My parents were adults. They had kids. The choices they made (in my head), were to protect their family, create a better life for their children, and hopefully forge a better future for themselves.?

I often think, do my parents see themselves as a sole reflection of the sacrifices they made and the challenges they endured to give their kids something better?

And if you’re a child of refugees, immigrants, or third-culture kids… I’m sure we’ve had the same question for our parents…

“Who were you before you had me? Who were you in your home country?”

I grew up and created my own identity, created my own culture, navigating through a hyphenated identity of Iranian-American & Jewish-Muslim. I questioned A LOT about who I was, where I belonged, what was home, and if I could ever fit in.

Do my parents think about these things, too?

Do they question where they belong or what is home?

Do they navigate life as an Iranian-American, like I do, or do they strictly identify as Irani?

Is it too painful for them to even ask themselves these questions? The box too scary to open, even a crack?

Or is that a pain and fear I've created for them in my head?

And this is where I see a clash of identities. A disconnect between me and my parents, because they might never understand what “being raised” in a culture so different from home would be like…?

A disconnect between what they knew and understood and what they’d raised.

Did my parents shed layers and layers of their skin (read: culture) to create a new version of themselves that would allow them to give, give, give… and make sacrifices for their family - without questioning if this aligns with their beliefs, values, and their secret rules?

A land of endless opportunities?

What I learned about my parents is that they’re caught between the culture they were raised in and the new culture they’re raising their children in.?

Thousands of miles away from what they consider their home, my parents came to a new country (two countries, actually) searching for “endless possibilities” (or opportunities) that will provide their kids with a life that’s much better than the one they experienced or were forced to leave behind.

I think to myself, in the back of their minds… do they ever question: “Was it worth it?”

Was leaving my homeland worth where I stand today?

Was leaving my language worth how I speak today??

Was leaving my people worth whom I’m surrounded by today?

And is giving my kids a better opportunity at life, worth the sacrifice I made?

To top it off, what does that look and feel like for parents of immigrants, refugees, and third-culture kids… especially when their kids are living out ideologies, beliefs, values, and cultures that they don’t believe in or don’t align with their ideals…

Was it worth it?

Ooof! Talk about asking the hard-hitting questions… but they're questions I have to ask because the answers might help us all move forward - or at least try a different path - from the fears, urgency, and nostalgia that come with aging parents.

Is it true joy and gratitude or an obligation to?

Well, is it?

I’ve been living away from my parents for 13+ years. Our family dynamic is “interesting” to say the least. And somehow, my parents became my best friends.

When I started pushing and breaking my secret rules, my parents questioned me. They told me I was being ridiculous and thought it was wild that I’d choose XYZ.

When I dyed my hair pink and started wearing more colors and unleashing my punk rock style, my mom loved the creativity but hated the look. Then, months later… MY MOM dyed her hair funky colors and started wearing funky patterns and clothing (yes I'm that old that I say "funky").

She told me that when she first saw me doing this, she didn’t like it or understood why I would want to dye my hair or wear such loud colors and mismatched patterns. Later on, because she saw me as an example, she started experimenting with her own secret rules and learned to love the creative expression. And now she fights with our neighbors over her funky ass, home decorated terrace furniture because it's too wild for their eyes ?? Hah, mom…?

While my parents are now my best friends, and my Cultural Intelligence tools have allowed us to approach and have conversations that we probably wouldn’t have been able to have… I still wonder…

Do my parents feel joy and gratitude for the sacrifices they made or is it an obligation to? If they didn’t feel joy and gratitude for their sacrifices and the strain of raising children in a different culture… would their sacrifices have been worth it?

I’ve had conversations with friends who are also children of immigrants, refugees, and third-culture kids where we’ve asked our parents the questions like:

• Who were you before you had me?
• Who were you in your home country?
• Was it worth it? Are you happy?

The responses to these questions usually sounded like…

• What kind of a question is that?
• Of course, I’m happy and proud of my kids!
• It is worth it to have children!

But curious rebel Shiva wants to know… Do parents feel obligated to say that?

If they didn’t say their sacrifices were worth it, does that mean they’d have to confront that they potentially could be unhappy with their “new country”, job, living situation, etc. and this move would be invalidated?

Could my parents openly tell me “Fuck, being a refugee and immigrating to two different countries and raising a family was fucking hard and there were days I don’t think it was worth it.”?

Could they tell me the truth if I asked them these questions, or are these questions irrelevant because they did what they needed to do for their family past, current, and future - it doesn’t matter if it was hard or worth it, they did what they had to?

And if I had kids today, could I do what my parents did for me and our family, or would I have chosen myself? Is that selfish? And if I had been raised Iranian would that have made a difference in my decision??

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