Graduation Speech: Sacrifice For Immigrants

Thank you for all the sacrifices.

Thank you for all the pain you’ve endured.

Thank you for being strong when there was no end in sight.

Saying thank you to your immigrant parents is like praising the sun for existing. The sun illuminates every crevasse of the earth in an otherworldly dance that rages in silence. It heats what can never survive without its warm embrace, and it heats what selfishly demands its attention, but it never discriminates between the two. The sun spreads smiles across peoples’ faces, infectiously, and with no antidote except for its disappearance. So if you want to try to thank the sun for doing all that, then go right ahead. I’ve spent 17 years trying; I hope you have better luck.

My parents were born and raised in Pakistan and came to the western world in 1992. My father was a weathered and weary worker, and my mother was as strong as a diamond. They longed for nothing more than a safe, prosperous future for their children, and saw no sacrifice significant enough to prevent them from

According to a study by the Environics Research Group in 2014, 28% of south Asians often suffer from intolerance (Macleans.ca). My mother came face to face with this intolerance when she was kicked and shoved in a Zellers parking lot for wearing a head scarf. A 2016 Huffington Post article states that hate crimes against Muslims has doubled in Canada over the course of a year (huffingtonpost.ca). My dad stared this hate in the eye when he was called a dirty illiterate Muslim. There is no denying the inherent hardships that come with being a visible minority. Being strong, being resilient, being happy despite all that – that’s what a ‘thank you’ will never be able to cover.

My immigrant parents are the sheen in my eyes, they are the marrow in my bones; and they are deserving of so much more than thanks.

Thank you for everything, Mom and Dad, and thank you to the sun for