Pictured on the right here is my mother. People say we look alike, but sometimes I don’t see it. Her name is Maria Rienah Reyes Rouse. However, she prefers to be called Rienah. My mother is an immigrant from Cebu, Philippines. She is here today because she met my father through mutual friends online during the late 1990’s. Through extensive emails and letters, they decided to meet and get married. After a few months living together in the Philippines, they moved to my father’s home in Durham, North Carolina.
My mother wanted to move to America to have a better life; her family was in poverty and she was abused as a child. Her grandmother wanted what was best for her and highly encouraged her to move. Thankfully, she chose to. She wanted to have a secure job and a family to take care of. She wanted true happiness.
Upon arriving, my mother didn’t really know how to speak English; she only knew what was taught in school. This was one of several barriers when she tried to adjust to the “American Lifestyle”. Her first job was at Subway, which didn’t end too well because she decided to quit after someone (probably her manager) stole her jewelry…
I asked her if she liked living in America. She said, “Of course I do. I have you, dad, and our two little birds. Life couldn’t be better. Though, I wish we had more money haha,” But then she brought up another interesting point about America. She said, “I also wish there wasn’t a lot of violence here… The government, who are the people, treat others so unfairly. I appreciate you doing what you do at school. More people need to understand the problems.”
Overall, my mother appreciates living in America, but she doesn’t appreciate the stereotypes that America had (like it being the “dream land”) before arriving. I’m not sure if her discovering this stigma would have impacted her decision to move, but I’m glad she’s here. She is my mother after all.
