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Americanized Through Struggles
Americanized Through Struggles
This isnt our house Annie; we all divide the cost and stay here together. Dont worry
they are from Bangladesh too. My dad replied.
As winter began to come in, my mom began to look rounder and bigger. Sunday was my
favorite day of the week because it was considered shopping day for us. Ammu, Abbu, Appi, and
I would get ready early in the morning and walk to the supermarket that was four blocks away
from where we lived. It was fun until the snow started getting into our eyes. I didnt want to go
once the weather started getting cold but I was forced to go because my parents hoped I would be
able to maybe carry one of the grocery bags. We would divide the load. I didnt like this life at
all. I wanted money for my family, a house that I could call ours and mostly I wanted to be like
everyone else. I saw hope the day my dad came home with the good news.
Life is going to change for us now, we will live like all the other Americans now, and
guess what Annie? You wont have to go shopping by walking anymore. We will go by a
streetcar. My dad exclaimed.
I was filled with joy, because now I knew that the dream that Ive been dreaming will
come true. My dad started working at the Ford Motor Company and money started coming.4 One
morning there was a knock on our door. I opened the door and allowed the two gentlemen into
our house.5 My mom was in bed suffering from morning sickness. The gentlemen scribbled some
things down on their notepad as they circulated through our house and left. That night my dad
returned home and was furious with everyone.
Abbu two men came today and they said things we didnt understand? I told my dad.
My dad did not answer. Day in and day out my parents fought over household responsibilities.
4 Wage Determination Theory...-five dollar pay worth a lot for the employee
5 The Ford Manual page 9- Investigators
Why cant you maintain the house in an orderly fashion? Why do I have to come home
to dirty dishes and unmade beds? My father would question.
There is only a certain amount that I can do. I dont see you doing anything in the house
as far as cleaning, and you expect me to do everything while having a child growing inside of
me. My mom would argue back.6
I hardly saw my father. I would wake up from sleeping and find my dad already gone to
work and when I saw him, it was only for few minutes through my sleepy eyes. My dad would
walk in to the living room and I would walk out to go sleep. The days that I did see him, it was
through the eyes of fright. My sister and I would stand in a corner and watch my parents argue.
Why cant you run the family now that I am working? Where is all that money going?
My dad would question.
Maybe if you spent more time managing the household rather than the bar after work,
you would know where all that money is going? My mom would reason.
I cried in the corner thinking is this really the American Dream that everyone would
sacrifice family ties to live? Is this really why we sold our land back home for? All that money
used for the immigration now gone to waste?7
Everything changed once my brother came into the family. My mom began to manage the
home better now that she doesnt have to worry about another human growing inside her and my
father realized that aside of being a worker he also has to fulfill the job of a husband and a father.
You could say that our lives were becoming an assembly line. Everyone played their part in the
family to make everything run smoothly. Everything seemed to be returning to its old state and
we began to be a part of America. Gradually, we all adjusted to waking up every morning and
having coffee instead of tea.
Looking back fifteen years from when I was three, I realized that day when I dragged my
sister out of bed before coming to America, she was fully a woke, but me? I am just awaking
right now.
Annie! Come downstairs dinner is ready. My mom screamed in her less-accented
English as she interrupted my thought.
When I went downstairs I saw my dad dressed in his newly found fashion of sweats
instead of a panjabi,8as he talked on the phone in his prefect English thanks to The Ford School
at work9. My sister just walked into the house with her American boyfriend, and me? I began to
eat my dinner using fancy utensils, instead of my hands the way I did years back. The American
Dream is woven with delightful struggles, but I am determined to find it because there is no
turning back now as I have already started seeking it.10
Bibliography
8 Encyclopedia Bangladeshi Americans- Traditional Costumes
9 The Ford Manual page 31- Learn the English Language
10 Modern Times-There is no giving up but instead one can explore more.