Teen Talk: Why Aren't You a Doctor Yet?
Whether it is about becoming a doctor, lawyer, engineer, startup wizard, or dating, it is natural to be peeved at the interrogation by “nosy" aunties on such matters. Still, there is something to be said about high parental, social, and cultural expectations.
After the Diwali celebrations have wrapped up and the rangolis have been accidentally trampled upon, one aspect of the festival still lingers: the horrors of answering those dreaded questions from family, friends, and relatives. We desi teens are all too familiar with those loaded questions.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" can make you choke on your samosa in sheer terror. This is followed by the nightmare-inducing “How many APs are you taking?" And then comes the knockout punch, "When will you become a doctor/lawyer/engineer?" Even now, sitting here all wrapped up in my blanket, I half-expect to turn around and see Swati Aunty standing with a stethoscope around her neck, ready to remind me why med school is perfect for me. Despite how often we may have faced these questions and rolled our eyes at them, it certainly does not reduce all the emotions they stir up.
As immigrant children, our life in the U.S. is one we owe entirely to our parents. Their hard work and sacrifice have given us a slice of the American dream on a platter. While this is undeniably something we are mighty grateful for, it is also the source of eternal guilt and anxiety.
“I don’t want to dishonor my grandparents by not striving for something that would make them proud.”
10th grader Amelia Duerr explains that her grandparents came to the U.S. from India so her mother could have a better education and life. Now, at family gatherings, she faces the classic Indian career expectations: doctor or lawyer. She not only feels the pressure to pursue these demanding paths but also the weight of getting into a college that would make such careers possible. Mix that in with her extracurriculars like debate, and you're in for many delirious, sleepless nights (trust me, I have personal experience). And yet, despite all this stress, she explains, "I don't want to dishonor my grandparents by not striving for something that would make them proud."
However, in an effort to "make them proud," it is easy to forget that we must also find pride in what we see when we wake up in ten years and look in the mirror. This, in itself, is an everlasting paradox: What do we owe ourselves versus what do we owe our parents, grandparents, and ancestors?
Constantly feeling that we are not doing enough, that our GPA is not high enough, or that we do not have the rest of our lives mapped out are all very understandable issues for all teenagers. Yet, we immigrant children bear them as if they are a sign that we have failed our parents. These high expectations that our parents and, in turn, we set for ourselves can sometimes feel stifling. These questions, even if well-intentioned, can often serve as a harsh reminder that we are walking a fine line between our own dreams and the life our parents have envisioned for us.
Success: Is it about financial security or pursuing passions?
I have often wondered what exactly fuels my parents' expectations. I mean, did they just wake up one day, sip their chai, and think, "Yes, the life I want for Gia is to cut people up?" While I understand that the parents’ craze for their kids to be doctors is certainly not hurt by the string of zeros attached to the paycheck, I also think it points to a broader question: Does success mean something different to immigrant parents than it means to second-generation immigrant teenagers?
When I asked my mom what her definition of success was, she explained that ultimately, success is being able to provide for your family and children. While she hesitated to admit it, she acknowledged that "success is often rooted in financial stability." While there is nothing inherently wrong with my mom's definition of success, it is certainly different from how some of my friends view it—specifically those whose parents are not immigrants.
Scottish American Catriona Bontrager defines success as fulfilling your dreams and passions. She says, "I think that success means that you need to make money, of course; but I would feel more successful doing a job that I love, even if it paid less than doing a job I really hated but that paid six figures." To her, success is not necessarily the number of zeroes on the paycheck; it is fulfilling a long-term passion. She explains that her definition of success is most likely formed because her dream of being an actress is generally well-received by her family.
Looking at these two varying definitions, it is clear that there is certainly an ideological divide. Success for American teens means personal fulfillment and passion while immigrant children, influenced by their parents, define it as stability and security. Is one definition truly better than the other?
Expectations as a source of motivation
Amelia, whose mother is of Indian origin and father American, explains that her family's high standards, while sometimes stifling, are also a source of great motivation for her. "I think having a goal from when you're really young gives you something to strive for.''
I, too, feel that although familial expectations to constantly aim for higher, better things can sometimes feel overwhelming, they have also opened the door to many unique opportunities for me. The drive that my parents have instilled in me has made me persevere through challenges and seize opportunities I might not have otherwise considered. Their never-ending belief in me causes me to constantly push myself to places I never would have seen myself. I owe this drive entirely to them.
Aditya Patankar agrees with me, explaining that he never necessarily felt pressured by his parents to pursue a computer science major. However, their aspirations for him pushed him to join the model UN and debate to improve his public speaking skills. He has found immense joy in these clubs and is grateful that his parents encouraged him to explore them—something he might not have done on his own. He says, "My parents gave me that drive to try new clubs and new things—and it's going well."
The balancing act between parental and cultural expectations versus personal desires
The tension between our own aspirations and the weight of familial expectations is a universal experience for many immigrant children. Yet, despite being overwhelming at times, it is essential to remember that these high standards are rooted in our parents' sacrifices and hopes for our future—a future they envision with love and ambition. The questions we face at family gatherings or even just at home reflect this deep desire for us to succeed.
But, as we navigate these expectations, we must understand that success and happiness are not one-size-fits-all concepts. True success, then, is not necessarily defined by how well we meet the expectations of others but rather by how we blend those influences with our own desires. As immigrant children, this is a life we must carve for ourselves, sometimes painstakingly. And yet, in doing so, we create the potential for a future that honors both where we come from and where we aspire to go, a task that may seem impossible right now. But we're desi! Impossible is what we do the best.
Column host Gia Agarwal is a 10th-grader who, when not crushing it in her advanced writing classes, is out there living every book lover's dream. She can be reached at TeenTalk@Khabar.com.
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