An Open Letter to Children of Immigrants: From a Daughter of Immigrants

Some things I wish I was told sooner

By Sagrario Torres Flores

On Mother’s Day, the general consensus is that we take a day to remember and celebrate the maternal figures that have shaped who we are. While I’ve seen shoutouts addressed to a range of people on this day—from nonconventional maternal figures to single fathers, people who have fulfilled a role and made it their own—I want to highlight another one of these dimensions. To the children of immigrants, this one’s for you. 


Here’s to the calls, conversations, and emails you’ve helped your parents through. For being a language or cultural interpreter and navigating the emotional labor of adult situations from a young age. For the loving pride and patience you have for your parents and their questions. Perhaps you were a part of their journey to citizenship, helped them register to vote, or went with them to the polls to cast their vote this past election. In a country that has been unwelcoming to Black and Brown immigrants, you empower them to challenge white spaces.


A shoutout to you for experiencing “firsts” that were new for your parents and family that came before you and opening doors for your siblings and family that will follow after you. For charting new territory and familiarizing yourself with how things work in a country and culture that your parents may still be learning. 


Cheers to you for propelling your sibling(s) forward—for re-teaching homework, going to school conferences, or helping them plan for their future. You’ve worn many caps: translator, teacher, coach, third parent—checking on little things that other adults in your lives may not think about or aren’t able to support with.  


Here’s to you for initiating difficult conversations that push for the serious consideration of new or overlooked perspectives while striving to stay within the social boundaries of familial hierarchies. This past summer, this could’ve looked like having conversations about the anti-Blackness existent within our communities, educating our families on internalized racism, and challenging cultural prejudice.  


I want you to remember to take care of yourself. When I would hear this myself, I often wouldn’t take it to heart. So, genuinely, from me to you: Nourish yourself with the care you need. Your growth might look different than what your family, friends, or even you would have expected, but that growth is still your own. It’s possible that your growth may even directly challenge the path that had been imagined for you by your family. Doing what’s best for you might be contested by the idea that it’s selfish. In disagreements with parents, there are added layers of doubt in your stance; are our opposing views coming from a cultural difference? Am I being insensitive? Even so, I reject the negative connotations that wholly engulf the idea of selfishness; in the idea that prioritizing your goals is an inherently selfish notion, we tread a dangerous path that could lead us to feel guilty for acting on self-care.  


Even now, during times in which we may be spending more time with family than we had planned for, it’s important to prioritize your emotional and physical health and be sure to appreciate all you’ve done for yourself and others. It’s good to surround yourself with people who will hold you accountable to sound decisions, but I’ve also found it grounding to refresh your palate of reasonings with empathetic friends.


Whether or not your efforts are noticed by your family and friends, I want you to know that I see you. There’s a unique intersectionality in being a child of immigrants, so while this doesn’t intend to generalize an experience, if anything that I shared resonates with you, I hope you find solace. If not by this letter, by other forms of support.


These are things I wish I had heard and known sooner. Not so much for the thanks and advice, but rather for the knowledge that someone else understands. I hope this sentiment sinks in; you are not alone, and you have people in your corner, wanting the best for you.

Wake Mag