A Valentine’s Day Gram: Questions for My Immigrant Father

Papa,

There has been a lot of talk about immigrants on the news lately, which has made me start thinking about your story.  And I have a lot of questions.

Did you ever dare to dream within one generation, you’d move from being a rice paddy farmer to your daughter being a doctor?  When you looked through the half built thatched roof next to your paddy, how did you have the audacity to reach so high?

When you made the decision to only teach me English so I could excel in school, did a little part of you die inside?  To know I was missing part of our heritage to ensure future success?  Do you regret that decision now?

When you bought my childhood piano, did you think of the only toys you had to play with as a child: a ball and stick?  When we screamed that you didn’t love us because you didn’t get us Barbie’s sister Skipper at the toy store, how much did that sting?

When you bought us clothes, did you think of the 3 shirts and 2 pants you had to hand wash yourself every night as a child so you would have something clean to wear to school?  When we would complain we had nothing to wear, how did that make you feel?

When we would complain about being hungry, did your mind go back to a time when all you had to eat was rice?  How did you not tell us, “You don’t know what real hunger is”?

When we would go to the grocery store and say we wanted to quit school, you’d bring us to the public restrooms and say, “Well then, I’ll get you a job here.  You can clean toilets the rest of your life.”  Did you mean to be funny?  Or were you trying to inspire us to live an easier life than you, as you were working in the factory and going to school at night in your mid 30s?  When I complain about being a doctor now, how do you not rub it in that at least I never had to do any factory work?

Does it bother you when I correct your pronunciation of words when you can speak at least 3 different languages while I only speak one?  When you made the decision to go to Toastmaster’s to help with your speeches, was your accent on the forefront of your mind?  When those border guards yelled at us to Speak English!, how did you hold back from telling them your grammar was better than theirs?

What was running through your mind when we went back to the Philippines when I was a teenager and struggled to take a bath fully clothed next to the water pump outside since there was no running water?  Or when we complained about not having full toilet bowls with seats to sit on in the outhouse, knowing that you grew up with having to dig your own hole to do your business in?

What do you dare not say when we talk about “primitive” camping without electricity or running water for a few days to disconnect from it all?  Does that sound insanely bougie to you?  Does it hurt when you know we still have family members in the Philippines that still go without either of those luxuries?

When I complain about my 1800 square foot house that I need to clean, do you think of a time when all 10 members of your family lived in a 2 room hut sharing space?  When I gripe about my rusty old SUV, do you hold back your tongue about how most of our family can’t even dream of owning a car even now?

How ungrateful I must seem, to wallow in my first world problems as I do.  How ignorant I must appear, of the sacrifices you’ve made.

But the tsunami of your guilt for having built a better life for us while leaving your entire family in the Philippines has crashed over you and left little tide pools for me to wade in.  Other times they swallow me whole as I struggle to straddle the threshold between the third world and being in the top 10% bracket in the US.

Your struggles have not been unseen.  Your sacrifices do not go unappreciated.  Your pursuit for a better life does not leave me uninspired.

So thank you.

Thank you for ignoring the naysayers, your fears of failure and my childhood antics when I would throw these things in your face.  Thank you for having the perseverance and vision to keep moving forward.  Thank you for setting me on this life path which has been infinitely easier than yours.

I hope you think it has been worth it.

Happy Valentine’s Day.