Everyone grasps the American Dream in their own different perspectives. Some perspectives have high hopes of a better life. Others however, can feel robbed and cheated of the Dream. To be more specific, my parents in particular think the American Dream is purely hypocritical. Both my mother and father emigrated from Honduras and came to the United States in 1997, with high standards of having a better life for them and their children. My mother in particular, left everything she had in Honduras; her siblings, her education, and her own two sons. After she found out she was pregnant with me, my parents decided to not make the same mistake of raising a children in Honduras again. In conclusion, they decided to leave the only place they ever called home for the most selfless reason: Me.

They didn’t want me to endure the life they had lived in Honduras. They didn’t want me to adapt a constant fear for my life and having to peer over my shoulders every couple of seconds. They didn’t want me to struggle financially just like how my mother did when she couldn’t even afford to take the bus to receive an education she deserved. My parents did not want anything that had happened to them to happen to me. I see now that that is a essential goal of most parents. For their children to not suffer and make the same mistakes they did, but to better themselves.

There are a lot of things that I still do not understand about my parents and the sacrifices they made. As if once they came here and claimed their new home, they locked everything in a box called Honduras, and chucked the key in the Mariana Trench. What I once remember my parents obtaining thick Hispanic accents became broken English today. I can always spot the insecurity and embarrassment my mom has on her face after she is flustered speaking to a White American. I can see the shy smile she gives me after she has spoken to a friend of mine and my friend looking at me and saying “what?” right in front of her. I can see how she always mumbles corrections to herself after she finishes conversing with others and the amount of frustration that takes over her, because after living in this country for over 20 years she is till not one hundred percent fluent.

I sat down with my parents, and I asked them what the American Dream meant to them. I watched amusement spread over on their faces like a wildfire. My dad even let out a chuckle at the controversial topic. Although I had an assumption about their opinions, I was still intrigued by their responses. I started off wondering; what does my father think about this country?

“There is nothing free in this land that is for sure. The laws in this country are better than my country. You can run a red light in Honduras and no one would care. If you ran a red light here that is a different story,” my father stated. My father admires America’s constitution and laws. He claims in Honduras, “Es un país muy triste. El gobierno no se importa a nadie,” (It is a very sad country. The government cares for no one). There was an example he used that was interesting. He talked about how in his country you can run a red light and no one would care, “but here in the U.S, that would be a different story.”

As an Afro-Hispanic living in this country, I wanted to understand if he had thought if race played a major role in achieving the American Dream. “That is one of the bad sides of this country. Discrimination. I see how other races interact with others here. Their eyes speak for themselves,” my father replied nonchalantly. “If we are all striving to achieve some dream, why must we hate? We all are humans. We should love each other.” He goes on talking about how when he first started his job, many people did not know him and assume he did not know english. “They would talk very slowly to me as if I was some naive child. It was fun to see their faces when they realized I comprehended their words and could reply back in full sentences.”

Lastly I wanted to know my father’s perspective on what the gain and losses were about coming to this country and trying to achieve the American Dream. When I asked my father this question, I could sense the million of things he wanted to say. “There are a lot of gains and losses.  If you come to this country and you work hard, you can get a majority of the things you want. I think the biggest loss for me is that you have to adapt to a whole different culture. Even today that can be hard for me to do,” my father replied shortly. My father and mother built a new life here in a completely foreign setting to them. Adapting to that was not a choice, it was something they needed to do. “I am thankful though. If I didn't had any education back in my country and I came to this country, it would be a different story today. Education is power here. It helped your mom and I fit in a little, but we had long ways to go.”

My mother typically avoids talking about government, political ideologies and beliefs. Although anytime before she cooks, I see her turn on the television and go to our local news channel. I also view the curiosity that consumes her face. Interviewing my mother felt more personal for some particular reason to me. Perhaps since it is a subject that lingers in a closet named “Lets Ignore It” along with other controversial matters about this country my mother tends not to speak about. I referred back to my father’s interview and thought about the benefits that this country had and wondered if my mother had shared similar thoughts as well.

“Lo bueno siempre viene con lo mal,” my mother says in her native tongue (The good always comes with the bad). It is a saying she has always said to me ever since I was a little girl. She goes on to continue about how there is a significant difference between living here and Honduras, but the example she used to support that saying was how she left almost everything she ever knew back at home, but she is safer here. “Your dad is very lucky,” my mother says with a doleful expression. “Your father’s brothers all came to America shortly after he did, and live 30 minutes from us. My siblings are hours away. They don’t call. I think they’re mad that I am over here and not over there.”

“I don’t know if your dad and I will accomplish America’s fantasies. We’ve been working for over twenty years. Look at us, we are still working today,” she said hopelessly. My parents never went to college, which affects their income rates tremendously versus someone who got a masters or pHD that receives a high income. “No quiero estar trabajando toda mi vida,” she says humorously (I don’t want to be working my whole life). My mother’s own goals and America’s are different. She believes as long as you and your family are not stressed and happy then, “todo va estar bien” (everything will be okay).

My parents are some of the strongest individuals I will ever know in my life, and for that I will forever be grateful for. Not only have I learned strength from them, but I have learned courage. My mother and father do share similarities and differences between their perspective of the American Dream. What I have learned about going more in depth about their own personal beliefs made me realize that the American Dream isn’t a dream. It it simply just a goal that can be achievable if you put hard work in to. But I don’t believe that the American Dream should have ownership of that.  The American Dream is just a piece of propaganda to make this country seem high and mighty. It should simply just be credited to people who have a strong demeanor and hard work ethic who deserve to be where they are in life. If someone were to ever try to credit the American Dream to my parents own success, I will be there to say: “They did not achieve the American Dream. They achieved their own dream.”