The Problem With Being an Immigrant

When my family immigrated to the US in 1998, I never thought (in my little mind set) that the U.S. would be so extremely different than Brazil. Here are some minor and major differences:

When my family arrived in Utah.
This is my sister coming out of the gate

- High School, a public school, in other words = free, is better than the private school I went to in Brazil in terms of structure. Level of education, not so much.
- Why are most of the trash cans under the sink?
- You get to blow your nose in public and it's perfectly fine
- The restroom stalls have this weird gap that compromises my privacy
- I get to drive on the freeway at 65-75 mph, really? In my city, the max is 45-50 mph. So lame!
- Self-check out?!
- sandals and socks being worn at the same time. First time I saw it I went WHAAAAT
- In 1998 young women didn't wear heels to church. I was the only one and got the stares. I thought every young women my age worn heels to church.
- I speak almost no English and I'm on the top 5% of my class?!

There are tons more, but these are the ones I remember the most from when I arrived... Some are so shallow, I just realized...

And then you are settled, get the hang of the culture, and eventually you might end up getting married to a native.  Then what? Well, you go on with having children.

My first year in High School. I took a choir class.

That's my dilemma and my problem as an immigrant.  Of course my children will speak Portuguese, perfectly! :) But, what about their children? I am the granddaughter of Japanese immigrants. Both my parents are children of Japanese immigrants. Do I speak Japanese? No. Only words I probably should forget I know but I learned them with grandma. My mom is the only one that speaks Japanese. That's her first language actually.

My mom's mom is an avid journal writer. She has a few boxes of journals. Can I read them? No. I just know that when you read it, you go left to right on the vertical lines.  Usually it would be from end to beginning but she has Brazilianized in that sense. There are a lot of things I don't know about her and I was never really able to talk to her because she doesn't really speak Portuguese.

The night before we left some of our friends came over.

That's why I started to write my blog in English, aside from the eczema post. I have started to write my journal in English too because I don't want my grandchildren to not be able to read my crazy thoughts like I can't read my grandma's.

To be honest, we all know [I think] that wives have a huge weight on the family dynamics and usually the husband's family is the one that gets pushed aside the most because of the wife's family that usually comes first (if the wife doesn't put a stop on it).  I have seen it happen too many times, even in my own extended family.  I try not to do this with my in-laws because I love them dearly but unconsciously things might happen and we may only realize it later.

So, I have two boys that will have their wives. Odds are, they will not speak my native language and I am the husband's family. So I assume that my grandchildren will not learn to speak Portuguese. I will be so sad if they can't read my story, my heritage, or feel of the love I have for the Savior through my journal. I also want them to realize that they have the life they have because of the immigrants that came before them, even before my generation. I have also written this blog address on many different parts of my journal in case it still exists when I'm gone. That way, they can read it too.

Are you in this same position or know of someone? What are your thoughts, counsel, and tips?