By Meryem Rabia Uzumcu
A personal narrative on the difference between two members of a family who experienced migration to the U.S. differently based on intergenerational and linguistic gaps. The first generation American experience and the immigrant parent experience is explored by Meryem Rabia Uzumcu.
Meryem: Hibiscus flowers with bright fuchsia stamens, my brother’s eyes glued to Crash Bandicoot on his Playstation 1, and Assad’s treacherous deployment of rainbow BB pellets on the Al-Maroosh compound paint my first childhood memories. And in the backdrop is probably my sister singing along to Christina Aguilera’s “I’m a Genie in a Bottle”. Long days of playing in the hot Saudi sunshine were never interrupted by snow or rain. The compound walls gated the outside world from our meadowy utopia equipped with a pool. What more could I ask for? But life in Saudi Arabia was different for my mother.
Mother: Saudi Arabia was hard for me. I feel that I [was] kind of in prison?
Meryem: Granted, being a child is very different from being a grown woman in saudi. But sometimes, it feels like this apple (me) fell in a completely different country from its tree.
Mother: I [was] born in Diyarbakır, Turkey…
Meryem: For first-gens like my siblings and I, there’s not only a generational gap, but a cultural difference from my parents. After Saudi, when we moved to Washington, these girls on the bus gave me these Britney Spears cards, and her belly was showing, and then I showed them to you, and you made me rip them up and said, “You’re not like those girls.”
Mother: Yeah I don’t remember, but probably I did it.
Meryem: My mom always tried to insert her values into our upbringing, and sometimes we really saw the world differently than one another.
Mother: You have your own culture, you have your own saturations, you have your own beliefs. You just wanna keep it. [Arabic music in the background]
Meryem: To do this interview with my mom, we went to Rutgers gardens at our alma maters campus. She graduated in 2006 when she was 46, and I almost 10 years later in 2017. Every Spring, we smell our way through this flowery passageway formed by the lilac trees’ first bloom in mid-April.
Mother: This is, little corner of the heaven, kind of. It’s so beautiful.
Meryem: The hum of Highway Route 18 is in the background. And even if it smells like heaven, we’re still in New Jersey.
Mother: Ah, it smells strong too. I’m speechless.
Meryem: She’s speechless, which is the opposite effect I want the interview to have. So we move away from the magical waft of pink and purple lilacs and towards the gazebo. [Her mother sits and sighs] It took me a long time to understand her reasoning that told me to rip up the Britney Spears cards.
Mother: Maybe you understand now, but maybe not that time.
Meryem: For a long time I thought she was doing it because she didn't get America. Most immigrants relate to America through the cliche of the American dream. I wondered what my mom thought of her own immigrant experience.
Meryem: Why did you move to the United States?
Mother: My husband got a scholarship to come to the U.S. to do his PhD. And we moved. So I stopped working, I stopped my education to come to the United States. When I came here with a baby, I didn't have any language skills.
Meryem: My mom took an almost 10 year break from school to learn a new language and raise 3 children. Meanwhile, she was following her husband’s career around the world, which is how we ended up in Saudi Arabia in the first place. When we moved to New Jersey, my mom enrolled at Rutgers.
Mother: My journey started in college with the 3 kids. If there is a will there's a way. So I believe in that, and I never underestimated the small things that I achieved. I go forwards and that’s it. I just think what I am going to do in my life.
Reynolds: Your mother is very goal-oriented. That’s the impression I got, she has a sense of direction and she’s going in that direction, and she is very serious.
Meryem: That’s Rebecca Reynolds, she’s a Dean at Rutgers University.
Reynolds: And she wanted to figure out how she could register for classes.
Meryem: With her help, my mother was able to graduate with a bachelor's degree in public health.and it didn’t stop there.
Mother: I want to become a physical therapist, I don’t know why. Maybe because I have personal injury in the back, but the operational therapy fits me more. I was searching what school fits me more, and I found that Columbia is a good option. I said, you know, I'm going to apply to this school and see what happens.
Meryem: Considering all of her challenges along the way, my mother completed her second degree in occupational therapy at an Ivy League school. I still wondered if my mom related to the ultimate cultural cliche.
Meryem: Do you feel like you have achieved the American dream?
Mother: People come to the United States for opportunity, but I had everything in my country. My story is a very opposite one. So I left my dreams, I received support later on, you know people like me around me, and from Turkey people sending me letters all the time. When I went to check my mailbox, I found 5 letters, so I was so happy that day.
Meryem: The truth is, it’s hard to pin anyone down to simple cliches. Turkey was still this far away place that was still intimate and important for us to recognize in terms of language, culture, and most of all, values.
Mother: I never think that I can totally erase my culture. This country is a totally different cultures, combinations, everyone in their home, they’re living their own culture.
Meryem: So to my mom, American culture was not about assimilation but establishing her own values here, and having the freedom to do that.
Mother: Being different is not too bad that I made the space, sometimes it’s the positive thing actually for society. I think it takes time until you get your confidence and you know what you’re doing, and then you say oh okay it can be like this way too.
Meryem: And at home, she enforced that being different - our culture - was the norm
Mother: When everyone else is against you, I feel stronger. [laughs from both]
Meryem: Growing up, I thought my mom’s values were a little overbearing. Until I went to college and entered the real world, and unless you actually stand up for yourself, life is hard. My mom was standing up for her way of thinking and doing things while raising us. American or Turkish, her values reflected a life striving for self-actualization.
Meryem: Do you think we understand each other now?
Mother: I think so. How about you?
Meryem: I think I understand you.
Mother: You understand me?
Meryem: I think, I don't know.
Mother: You think I understand you?
Meryem: Do you think you understand me?
Mother: No, do you feel that way? [laughs}
Meryem: I’m just asking you.
Mother: Yeah, I feel that way, yeah I understand you. [both laugh] Now, I’m asking you questions.
Meryem: In that moment, we were like two kids bashfully asking each other if the other would be her friend.
About the Author
M. Rabia completed her M.A. in Near Eastern Studies from New York University's Hagop Kevorkian Center, during which she became fascinated by audio editing as a medium for storytelling. Oral tradition is a strong part of the region's knowledge transfer from one generation to the next, found in her family history as well. When learning audio editing, Rabia gravitated towards first telling a story about my mom, her immigrant experience in the United States, and all the grappling that comes with her identity. Like her grandmother's late night folktales, this is one story Rabia wanted to pass down. Creating and storytelling by way of audio, she can.