My parents moved to America to provide a life for my siblings and me that they believe was truly superior than the life they had known. The religious unrest in India against Muslims is real. I mean, even now, the hurdles muslims must jump through to visit india because they are muslim is SO REAL.
Of course, there are bad people on both sides of the spectrum, but I 100% believe that innocent people get mangled in other peoples agendas and their lives inevitably change because of the atrocities that occur. For my parents, the cost entailed encountering the deaths of close loved ones. Can you imagine losing a mother and sisters due to this sort of unrest – I can’t – but it causes me extreme sadness to think my dad personally can.
With that said, he decided that he would seek out a better life for his family is this new promising country. So he came here, lived frugally, studied hard, sent what little he had back home, until he was done with grad school. Got a job, and then legally moved his family to America. I was born shortly after my family’s “great migration”.
His dream for his children, was to have well to do children and live a comfortable life. He has achieved some version of this, but it got me thinking, what is MY AMERICAN DREAM.
After taking a three month sabbatical (i.e. I quit my job and was unemployed for about 3 months), I had a lot of time to read, think and dream. I decided that my version of the American Dream is to elevate my level of comfort for myself and my kids and it’s to just be more “present” when life happens. I never realized this, but after “dreaming” I realized that I am living a version of my own American Dream. The other day I got off of work at a reasonable time, headed home and then headed to dinner with my parents. We ate outside and enjoyed the weather. Every one was healthy, we were celebrating my mom’s birthday, and I grabbed the check. Being able to treat my family and being able to celebrate occasions with my family is my version of the American Dream (this is the bare bones version of it at least).
My point in bringing all of this up is, by realizing this, I realized how thankful I am for the sacrifices my dad made, and how blessed I am to have the opportunities that I have – and I am able to appreciate all of this, by just pausing and “smelling the roses”. What is your version of the American Dream? I would absolutely love to know :).