When you think of a mother, you might think of some variation of a caregiver as I did. I wasn’t just thinking about taking care of the home in the traditional sense, but in a general sense of doing an assortment of things so long as it helps their family. That is something I learned at a young age from my mother. I grew up with stories of different things she had to do as a child to help out her family; this included cooking, cleaning, and taking care of her siblings starting at a young age. At the same time, I also saw this in action in my home as there were very few moments where it was just my parents and my brother living in our home. Whether it was an uncle, aunt, or family friends, there was always somebody else in our home; and they were all family.
These are all memories I fondly look back upon. This is what family meant to me, and this is how I learned that we should always be there for family (which includes close friends).
This is no different from how my mother grew up in El Salvador. She learned to take care of the people around her and make sure that everybody was doing well. There was a sense of responsibility that followed my mother through her upbringing in El Salvador and her time here in the United States.
When my mom first arrived United States, she started working immediately. She could’ve used the money she earned to find a nicer apartment, purchase clothing beyond her basic needs, and find other ways to improve her quality-of-life. That’s the opposite of what she did, however, as she sent money to her family in El Salvador on a regular basis. She left El Salvador with a mission – to help provide a better life for her family. This was a purpose she wasn’t going to give up regardless how far away she was from her family.
The responsibility she felt for her family also extended to her community, as my mother became a focal point of support for family, friends, and close connections. Whether it was sending money back to El Salvador to whomever needed it at the time, or being a resource to those who arrived in the United States, my mother was always willing to help.
My parents’ home in the United States became a refuge for family and friends from El Salvador. Telephones were luxury back then, especially in El Salvador; there wasn’t a guarantee that my parents would be informed before visitors arrived on her doorstep looking for shelter. My mother has told me countless stories of people whom she didn’t even know that showed up with a recommendation from my grandmother and little else. The connection they had to my mother’s community was enough to be welcomed into my mother’s home. These individuals ended up sleeping on whatever surface they had available; the kitchen, bathroom, living room, bedroom were all eligible to be utilized as sleeping quarters at any given time.
These stories have shaped who I am and the work I do. I feel a great sense of responsibility to support and provide for the community around me, regardless of their familial connection. When I was in college, this responsibility manifested itself in the founding of a Latino men’s organization to establish an organization where Latino men at Harvard could support one another. After college graduation, I found a calling in education through Teach for America. 9 years later, I’m leading a school of 1,100 students and 100 adults in an underserved community in Houston.
As new immigrants to this country, my parents could have easily turned inward and focused on themselves. Instead, they continued with the spirit of community and generosity they grew up around. In doing so, they left a lasting legacy within me to do the same, thereby impacting the lives of countless people along the way.
The argument that my parents have been positive contributors to American society is not just an opinion, but based on quantifiable evidence. I want to make this clear though: my parents are the rule, and not the exception among immigrants to this country.
