Letter to Old Friend: What is the "American Dream," and who is it for?
By Heinrich
Dear friend,
For this inaugural letter, I wish to tell you about this antiquated concept of the “American Dream.”
I was six years old when I first landed in America. It was a 16-hour flight where I slept through everything except for the meals.
My parents spent 19 years petitioning for a Visa to finally enter this country. I am 20 years old at the time of writing this. For most of my life, my parents had been trying to move here in hopes of reaching the “American Dream” we so often heard about.
My mom’s side of the family saw us take off, full of teary goodbyes and hugs. I could not comprehend it then, but she was saying goodbye to everything she knew. Over 30 years of friendships, family and a stable career in that very airport we set off from, were all sacrificed for me and my father.
My dad’s side of the family met us at the airport as we pushed everything we owned on five separate trolleys.
The jet lag made the first few weeks difficult for me. I got up at 3 a.m. every morning and slept at 2 p.m. At least I had access to the bathroom before everyone else.
My aunt's family of six came to America only three months before us and with nowhere else to go, we all squeezed into my grandma’s house. Three bedrooms, one office and two bathrooms for 11 people.
Soon enough, I went back to school. I quickly advanced in my grade getting top marks and eventually getting the Presidential Honor Roll by 6th grade. I finished in the top 10% of my class.
I did well in school so my parents did not have to worry about me. I got good grades, kept quiet and behaved. I was the kid that I had to be. My parents had everything else to worry about.
Neither of my parents’ degrees counted here. My mom was at the top of her field in the Philippines, but as soon as she set foot in this country, none of that mattered.
We managed. My parents invested every last cent they had in my education. Put me in band in the 6th grade in hopes of getting good enough to get a scholarship one day. They were bang on the money with that one.
Since I was six years old, I knew what my life was going to be like. I knew what career I was going into, no matter how much I denied it. I knew that when the time came, I would give in to my parents’ wishes and take up nursing. I am Filipino after all.
That is something they don’t tell you about the “American Dream.” The dream is not for you. Not really.
On rare occasions, someone comes to this country to follow a dream and succeeds, but not everyone is that lucky. Most of us who come to this country get by just to survive. We send money back home to make sure that the people we love also survive. We do not get caught up in dreams. Those are for our kids.
When I explain this to friends, some tell me that it’s never too late to chase my dreams. That I am foolish to think this way.
I understand why they do not understand. Most of my friends have no idea what it is like to upend their lives, start over and try to survive. We have lived very different lives and I forget that.
Since I was six years old, I found comfort in what my life would look like. I longed for the stability that I witnessed in my friends’ lives. I was determined to have that life. Music changed everything.
Caught up in my love for music, I decided to go against everything I know and committed to a school where my life would revolve around music. A life where security was not guaranteed, at least in my parent’s eyes. At the time, I thought nothing could sway my decision. I thought nothing could ever change my mind.
I was wrong.
A month into my first year as a music major, we got the news. My grandfather was diagnosed with prostate cancer. My mom needed help with medical bills. Everything I forgot came rushing back. I could not ignore it again. I submitted my withdrawal from the university the next day. I got a full-time job for a while and sent everything I could back home.
One month. That is all I had.
Some of us are not meant to be dreamers. Dreams and hopes are things that I can ill afford now. I’ve known it since I was 6 years old.
Sincelerly, your friend