When I ponder upon the transitions I have undergone, each one, one of the most prominent memories that come to mind is how I struggled to determine which culture and society I belonged to. From my early childhood and attending my first days in a public school, this applied. This applied to a private school for one year, followed by four years in a public elementary school. This only continued for the next three years in a fairly small-scale, public middle school, and where I am today—a public high school from which the outside appears enormous and, yet, somehow undersized when tightly compacted with students charging through the halls before the bell rings.

The difference between culture and society to me is that one remains constant while the other continuously evolves. How one defines “culture” and “society” may contrast with that of my own. Some people, such as myself, view culture as the one-term to summarize the tradition of food, heritage, language, customs, among more, into one term, while others think of culture as society itself—perhaps a community of people that share similar lifestyles, habits, and achievements of art, from music to human intellect. Both terms may be interchanged with one another. However, my definition of culture implies that parts of me, such as my ethnicity and values, will always be incorporated in how I present myself to those around me. On the other hand, society will never remain the same. With advancements in all aspects, from objects to philosophies, today will be different from yesterday, and tomorrow will be different from today. This is simply beyond human control. Although, as each day comes to an end, it is the responsibility of every individual and every community to decide amongst themselves what they believe is best for the future. Their creations change society, whether for the greater good or the worse.

Why do I say this? I felt as if I lived in too very distinctive, dissimilar worlds. Sometimes I still feel like this, but not as often. Each society has its own culture, but each culture does not have its own society. Being a first-born, first-generation American in an Israeli-Bulgarian household, I was tasked with navigating through my life and discovering who I am through attempting to balance my ethnicity and the American environment surrounding me. To this day, I accept guidance from my parents and choose to take their wisdom and experiences to form my individual identity and beliefs. By accepting guidance, I advocate for my needs and learn from their mistakes, leading me to finding a solution to resolve those of my own. But how do I do this when my peers, who are not all first-generation Americans, are influenced by their parents that may or may not have been raised in the same town, let alone the country? I am constantly being told what the “wrong” and “right” choices are to make on a daily basis. This is why it is significant for not only me, but every individual to have their independent values, interests, and philosophies. No one should rely on others to make decisions for them. Everyone has their own truths that may be false to another. It seems complicated, but this idea is undemanding.

Expectations, generally, tend to be prompted by the people that an individual typically surrounds themselves with. The culture is within the people and the society is what the people inhabit. My parents’ expectations are, undoubtedly, lower than the expectations I have for myself. This is not a cruel thing. Rather, I have standards for myself academically or based on my capabilities in all aspects. My parents remain beside me to encourage me to set realistic goals that I can achieve in short-term or long-term time frames. Maybe the expectations I have for myself are higher than those of my parents because I know my strengths, all the while acknowledging my limitations. As they are not me, my parents do not know these traits as well as I do, but they use their culture and society in their countries to assist me in thriving in the society around me. Surely, nevertheless, expectations vary from culture to society, and, especially, the individual themselves. Once again, it is crucial that every individual has their own values.

I cannot count the number of times I have had a friend or classmate come to me and hold forth how their parents are so displeased with their grade, which usually rounded to above an A, that they were punished for an extensive period of time. I could never understand this because my parents do not believe that punishment teaches discipline. They believe that the consequences one will face is how the individual will self-motivate themselves. For instance, when one doesn’t study and receives a poor grade, it will teach one not to neglect studying and instead receive a good grade. This circumstance correlates with my thoughts on stereotypes for how a student should perform based on their ethnicity. I understand that there are cultural factors in what a parent believes are the “proper” ways to raise a child. So, yes, it is not uncommon that two students of the same heritage, separate from one another, have parents that share a similar cultural upbringing that reinforces the idea that culture, race, or heritage raises children using the same methods. This is culture. This is society. What this is not is the individual parent. Think about it: if you are raised in an area where everyone shares the same lifestyle, interests, goals, achievements, and more, would it be that unusual for you to have the same values as those around you? I doubt so. Again, each individual must have their own values.

Moreover, to my parents’ friends who come from countries out of America and to the Americans around me, I used to feel as if I was excluded from both cultures. I understand all three languages—Hebrew, Bulgarian, and English—but I only speak Hebrew and English. This used to seem abnormal to me, given that Bulgarian was the first language I could speak. Consequently, when I used to be around Americans, I would feel as if they perceived me as just the “daughter of foreigners.” Some of them had, and some of them do, which they have made clear to me through their disrespectful comments and remarks. As for those who come from my parents’ countries, I am “too American.” If I do not speak the language fluently or do not have the same values, I am seen through these lenses. This is okay with me, now more than ever. I have accepted the importance of having my own values, and they are concrete in my brain even when others feel it is necessary to tell me where I belong. For me, there is nothing more to do but smile and walk away.

I guarantee anyone that when they are confident and definite in their values, it does not matter who tells them what they think of them. I will never neglect to mention how difficult it can be for anyone and everyone to feel that they are obsolete from a community or be told, constantly, that their values are wrong. As long as people choose to nurture and encourage one another through their values and choose to respect each other for their differences, their values are not dishonorable. Have your own values. Advocate for yourself. As long as you are self-assured that your decisions are made with moral consideration, you will find a place of truth.

Across counties, states, and countries, school systems vary in terms of grading scales, homework loads, and environments. These gaps, as well as generational differences, may lead to assumptions about how taxing school may be, including misconceptions that parents may have about their child’s workload. Although first-generation children may have parents who learned about factoring and literature in a completely different language, just how similar are their educational experiences?

My mom graduated from high school in China and attended college at Tsinghua University before immigrating to America. While I push myself to do my best, I wondered if my parents experienced the same academic rigor that seems to parallel my peer’s and my school schedules.Although balancing academics and extracurriculars may be difficult, there has always been a fine line between a heavy workload and an unreasonable one. In school, I push myself academically and love to get involved in new clubs and outside activities. However, there is a generational and educational gap in my parents’ schooling in China and mine in America. I have heard that academic excellence is heavily emphasized in China, while in America, there is an emphasis on a more well-rounded education in terms of pursuing interests and hobbies alongside academics.

For my mom, she loved to run track and would often spend hours in the sun, participating in her school team. Since my grandfather worked at the school she went to, she lived there on campus and would walk to school. She tells me of the hours she spent studying for exams and classes.
In China, your admission into colleges rides heavily on one factor: the score on your National Higher Education Entrance Examination (Gaokao). Grueling hours and weeks and months are spent poring over materials in the test, which will ultimately be your ticket into what colleges you are accepted into.

My mother often told me how she wished she had the opportunity to play an instrument, enroll in art classes, and pursue her own hobbies. However, technology and financial limitations prevented her from taking lessons. It is odd to think that the things that have settled into my everyday routine were once her greatest wish, and I feel incredibly grateful for the chance to delve into my interests. I am not saying that my mom lived a hardship-ridden life with no prospect of joy, but I am saying that the opportunities that have been presented to me are far greater than hers during her middle school and high school years.

Although the school systems may be different, our experiences boil down to our yearnings for our interests. When I think of my mother’s school years, which she spent studying intensely in a competitive environment, I feel a sense of awe and gratitude that her work ethic has helped inspire mine.

While we may have been learning in different countries and decades, I think we are both intrinsically connected in our spirit and desires, and they are what continue to push me in school.

Hi, my name is Alena Zhang. I am Chinese. I used to be ashamed of my culture.

Everyday, my mom lovingly packed me different lunches: dumplings, fried rice, onion pancakes, and every Chinese food imaginable. I loved my lunches. During break-time, I would bring my glass container filled with yummy food and tiptoe to reach the microwave. After heating up my food, a familiar fragrance filled the air and I would breathe it in deeply. It smelled like home, and it reminded me of the street vendors in China.

My first recollection of the harsh reality of what my classmates thought of my food was in kindergarten. As I sat down at the lunch table with my classmates, one of them looked at me with disgust and told me my food smelled and looked disgusting. The limp, fried onion in my rice reminded them of spider legs; the fluffy pork bun reminded them of a disfigured instrument.

When I reflect back on this moment, I still wonder how my younger, five-year old self should have reacted. Should I have told them to back off, to leave me and my food alone?

What I remember is not touching my food at all. I left the mounds of fried rice alone and I sat silently while my classmates snacked on their chips and sipped their juice pouches.
When my stomach grumbled in defiance, I carefully propped up the lid of my food container and tried to cover my lunch with the flap of fabric on my lunchbox, so no one could see my food. Every day after school, my mom would look at my untouched lunch and shake her head. I felt guilty for lying and saying I wasn’t hungry.

Looking back, I realize I should have stood up for myself. In a way, food is culture. A recipe can cross oceans and continents, generations of families, time itself.

At school, I kept my Chinese identity and pupil identity separate. When Chinese New Year came around, my mom and grandpa discussed coming to my class to bring dumplings and make paper lanterns. I held my breath and hoped my mom and grandpa would stop bringing up the topic. I begged and I cried for them not to come, but it was to no avail. They were coming and that was that.

When my grandpa and mother arrived at my class, I expected snarky remarks from my classmates, but there were none. Frankly, I was scared that my classmates would make fun of this tradition like they did to my food. Instead, my classmates begged for more dumplings and compared their paper lanterns. I remember my chest feeling warm and me smiling as they chimed in yelling that they wished they could be part of my family, so they could eat delicious food like dumplings all the time.

What caused the change in attitude, I still don’t know. However, I know this much: I should have never let those initial words insulting my food ever affect my relationship with my culture.

Slowly, I stopped caring about what others thought of my food and culture. In the past, I had believed that my classmates’ disgust for my food was a personal attack on my character and my heritage. But it wasn’t. While the remarks were insulting, I should not have let those sentences loom over my head for so many years. I have learned that my culture, even in something as simple as food, isn’t something that I or anyone should hide.

With Covid-19 affecting not just our school lives, everything is different. I do not take my culture for granted; I am glad that the rich history I come from is not forgotten.

I implore you, do not be ashamed of your heritage. Do not forget the beautiful scenery where your home land is. Do not forget the ethnic food that connects you to your culture. Do not forget the sacrifices your family made to get you here. Do not forget your culture which is ingrained in who you are. It courses through your blood, it makes you, you.

My love for my culture is unshakable. I appreciate the thrumming dances, the noisy villages, the delicate brushstrokes of mountains on silk, and the delicious Chinese food that my mom makes, whether I am in China or America.

My few trips to China still dazzle me. They have shaped me and matured me. I see magnificent statues, hear the crash of stormy waves in the Yellow Sea, and feel the rumble of the Shanghai traffic in my bones.

So please, embrace your culture. Let every part of it wash over you and change you for the better. It welcomes you into its dazzling and unimaginable world.

Because I attended an elementary school with an Asian population of less than 3%, my immigrant parents often worried if I would fit in with the other students. I firmly remember naturally gravitating towards the other 1 or 2 Asians in my class every year. However, as students enter into high school, specifically those who are first-generation immigrants, they gain more freedom and knowledge on their preferences regarding their friendships. So the question becomes, how exactly does being a first-generation student affect those preferences?

Some students like Inesa Linker (‘23) enjoy hanging out with people who have a different ethnic background than her own.

“I feel that it is easier to get closer to someone when there isn’t as much judgment. With people who have a similar ethnic background, I always feel a level of judgment of whether or not I am Jewish or Ukrainian enough.”

Being a first-generation Ukrainian who does not speak her native language and growing up in a non-religious household, Linker feels that those things make her less connected to her culture. When students with the same ethnicity as her attend synagogue and speak Ukrainian, she can’t help but feel different although they share the same background.

“It ends up being something that separates me rather than something to form a bond over,” Linker said.

While she struggles to share commonalities with people of her own tradition, Linker has learned a lot from being friends with people of different cultures.

“I’ve learned about how they use their culture to shape their lives, and while that knowledge isn’t deep or philosophical, and honestly seems very obvious, it’s really nice to gain that connection with someone.”

Other first-generation immigrant students, such as Ziv Amsili (’22) and Esther Tian (’22), prefer building friendships with students who share similar cultural traditions.
“They tend to understand me better and I feel more comfortable knowing that they can relate to me,” said Tian.

Tian, a first generation Chinese-Korean, values the reassurance that she finds in having a friend who is able to connect with her through culture related experiences. Although she has not faced major struggles with making friends, she has experienced trouble fitting in with people outside of her ethnic bubble due to the challenge of finding things to bond over.
Interestingly, Amsili, who is a first-generation Israeli, shared that she has noticed that many of her friends are first-generation immigrants themselves.

“Maybe because my parents are friends with a lot of Israelis, they also have kids that may be the same age as me, so through our parents, we get to know each other,” Amsili said. In addition to this, especially in her Jewish community, Amsili was able to form friendships through attending the same synagogue as her friends and through their parents who feel more comfortable with those who speak the same language as them.

As for myself, while I have a diverse group of friends, I am definitely more comfortable with my fellow Korean or Asian American friends. Some of my closest bonds have been formed through my Korean church. Nonetheless, that was only possible because there was a Korean church in my area. From personal experience, who I choose to be friends with really depends on my personal interests and the ethnic environment of the area that I live in.

It is safe to say that culture and tradition play a large role in the lives of first-generation immigrant students. But it’s just a matter of one’s distinctive values and beliefs when it comes to building relationships.

Mental health is something many parents aren’t equipped to handle. This line of logic is something that especially applies to immigrant parents. Mental health is an issue that has gained increasing traction in the last couple of years and is something that many families in the U.S. discuss. The difference with first generation families is that these issues are not discussed. Even though they can be coped with and managed with support from a therapist or family members, many immigrant parents see mental health problems as saying that their parenting is inadequate. This is not true, seeing as everyone (including all parents, immigrant or not) deals with some form of mental health trouble.

First-generation families are slow to accept this, partly due to the fact that they grew up in countries where perfection was the standard. Speaking from experience, my mother grew up behind the iron curtain of the Soviet Union. In a teaching job at age 20, she grew up quickly taking many different advanced courses and putting pressure on herself to be a model student and fit the mold of a “perfect Soviet,” which was something ingrained into her life. These expectations were given to my mother by her mother, and then they were given to me by my mother. As a little girl, I was a figure skater. This hobby became something that consumed my mother, and soon enough I felt an exceeding amount of pressure to master each jump and spin as well as compete in high profile competitions. The truth was I didn’t particularly want to keep figure skating-especially not competitively. Young as I was, this took a toll on my mental health, and the way I see myself. Naturally, I am a person who seeks praise from others and watching my mother during and after practice, I became obsessed with getting her and my coach’s approval. To this day, even though I am no longer a skater, I seek her praise and feel that many things I do don’t measure up because they don’t receive the reaction I expect. I know this is a common experience for many first-generation children. High expectations may result in mental health issues.

According to escholarship.org, many studies conducted in higher levels of education show that first-generation students are more likely to experience symptoms of depression, high levels of stress, and lower life satisfaction. These are symptoms that students at the high school level cope with as well. I know very well the distress that I and several of my friends go into before grades are finalized or the night before a test. However, these feelings persist long after the test and can often make one feel isolated and alone because who else feels like waves are constantly crashing over them and they can’t get up so what’s the point? The answer it turns out is many people.

Believe it or not, immigrant parents especially struggle with mental health issue. For example, cambridge.org published an article in 2009 discussing the widely untreated psychological distress recent Soviet immigrants were under, and the US National Library of Medicine published a study in 2015 investigating the use of mental health services by immigrants and found that of the 40 million or so immigrants in America, less than the national average of 13% utilized any services despite an equal or more pressing need for it. One study of Asian and Latino immigrants found that only 6% of immigrants had ever received mental health care, making them 40% less likely than U.S. born participants to access services.

What immigrant parents seem to miss is that discussing and being open about those feelings will often help a student cope with the feelings and help them realize they don’t need to hide their feelings or feel ‘broken’ because of them. Mental health is finally getting the attention that it deserves in America, and more people are realizing its importance in the well-being and health of a person. But the curtain that mental health has hid behind for so many years can not be so easily removed in the eyes of immigrants. That curtain is shrouded in shame, and peeling it back reveals a not so pleasant topic that they are unwilling to embrace. It is so important for first-generation students to embrace the mental health questions that their parents often shy away from. Hopefully, mental health will no longer feel like a taboo and something that needs to be hidden behind a curtain.