Growing up with foreign parents has its ups and downs, but more ups than downs if you ask me. I was always proud of my Russian heritage, never missing an opportunity to tell my peers.
It surprises me that we live in a culture were people strive to be alike rather than different. I loved being different. People were more interested in my parents’ culture and me. I happily told my classmates that I was bilingual, but I could only understand Russian and hardly speak it. Today I am much better than I was, but I hope to be completely fluent by the end of my high school years.
My parents’ are unlike most American kids’ parents. Even at our core, our values appear different. Americans value independence, while Russians value family. Americans are polite, but often with a fake smile. Russians are much more outwardly honest and outspoken. I often would hear my parents yelling, and when I went to ask what all the fighting was about, it turns out they were just having a casual conversation.
My parents are much less strict, yet much more protective than American parents. I never had an allowance, but wasn’t allowed to go to the mall with my friends until I was 15.
My parents came to this country to escape the awful anti-Semitism that was happening in the USSR. They arrived with 623 dollars in their pocket. Thanks to their hard work America’s opportunities, they were able to have a great career, provide for our family, and thrive.
