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What is it like to be raised by immigrant parents?
I love my folks, however problematic things have been between us, and I don’t begrudge them their struggles in a strange land, to do the best they could for their kids. (Maybe their objectivity, but not their struggle.)
But what was it like to be raised by immigrant parents?
Don’t assimilate to those drunkards. Remember your heritage. Stick to your own. We have morals. We have tradition. All they care about is horse races and booze anyway. Of course you’re going to make something yourself. No you’re not going to be a musician. No, you can’t date, you must attend to your studies. [The fact that I felt I needed to get permission!] Surely you’re going to want to go back to the mother country one day. What do you mean, “you could never function in a country without a civil service that works like clockwork”?!
Not a negative overall; I like that it’s given me a detachment from both the majority and the minority cultures, it’s a useful thing. But there’s a lot of sex I missed out on as a result…
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