Tania Roa shares her family’s story hoping to inspire other migrant women to use their voices, recognising their migration story as a blessing rather than a burden.
By Tania Roa
“Ni de aquí ni de allá.” (“Neither from here nor from there.”)
Unfortunately, it’s a saying I grew up with, and I grew to understand it. As a daughter of immigrants, I am often torn by my nationality and heritage.
Although I was born in the United States, my family and traditions are Colombian. Colombian food, music, and principles shaped my identity. I didn’t realize my experience wasn’t the ‘norm’ until I was seven years old.
On that transformational day, I played with my two Mexican American friends between classes. We sometimes spoke Spanish to each other, and no one seemed to mind. But this day was different. Two American twins did mind, and they weren’t shy about it. They asked me, specifically, to stop speaking Spanish because “This is America.” In that life-changing moment, I realized my immigrant background wasn’t acceptable to some people. It became clear that my parent’s transformational sacrifice wasn’t always celebrated or even tolerated.
But my immigration story doesn’t start with me. I grew up in California after my parents left our motherland, Colombia.
They escaped the violence that plagued the nation due to the notorious War on Drugs and armed conflict. My parents also found themselves searching for something more – they wanted opportunity and a purposeful career. My mom had earned a law degree, and my dad studied business at the local university. Even with higher education, there were limited jobs due to corrupt governments, ineffective international policies spearheaded by the Global North, and poverty. Deciding to leave Colombia became the most heart-wrenching decision of their lives. They wanted what most migrants wanted – a place where they could become the people they were meant to be.
Destiny was calling, and they answered.
Cuando vine de Colombia tenía dos sentimientos encontrados: Uno – la ilusión de algo nuevo, de una vida nueva, con la persona que yo amaba. Y, por otro lado – dejar mi familia, mi tierra, ya que yo nunca había salido de Colombia y no sabia cuando volvería.”
(“When I came from Colombia, I had two mixed feelings: One – the illusion of something new, of a new life, with the person I loved. And, on the other hand – leaving my family, my land, since I had never left Colombia and did not know when I would return.”)
Claudia Roa, Tania’s courageous mother
I wear my Colombian jersey and jewellery proudly; knowing who I am today is because of my parent’s willingness to venture into new worlds without any guarantee that they would fulfil their dreams. I am a daughter of risk-takers, entrepreneurs, and brave souls. My mother is my foundation. Her compassionate and gentle demeanour acts as the glue for our family. Despite her many trials as a woman, and even more so as a migrant woman, she retains her kindness. It is because of her and other women like her that families and communities stay healthy, resilient, and joyful.
It is thanks to migrant women we are all nurtured.
Being a daughter of immigrants comes with unexplainable guilt. I feel guilty that I have more opportunities and freedom than my parents did and compared to other people my age simply because of where I was born. One way I attempt to ease this guilt is to remember my roots and give back to the Latino/x/e community. I want all Colombians, all Latin Americans, and all migrants to thrive. A central part of my social justice advocacy consists of immigrant rights and immigration reform.
I witnessed my parents struggling to find their way through U.S. legal and social systems, so I know it isn’t easy. That’s why I hope to ease the pain of other immigrant families around the world.
The Roa Family: The Early Years and Now| Licensed for use on Migrant Women Press| All rights reserved
As an American-born citizen, I did not earn my way into privilege. I did nothing to deserve that blue passport, yet it has provided me with many opportunities.
My parents waited twelve years to achieve residency status, and after five years of residency, they became citizens. They first lived in the U.S. illegally, as many other incoming migrants did and continue to do. Regardless of citizenship status, my parents worked hard, long hours, contributing to the U.S. economy and creating a blissful childhood for me and my brother.
My migrant parents did what most of us are unwilling even to consider: move to another country, where their native Spanish language wasn’t the norm, and away from the surroundings, people, and culture they grew up with and cherished. For this reason, I will continue their legacy by exposing and denouncing immigrant injustice everywhere.
@tierra_tania All immigrants are welcome @border_kindness #migrantes_latinos #usmexicanborder #humanitariancrisis #immigrants #latinoimmigrants
♬ Brujeria – ✿
To brave migrant women everywhere, you are where you are meant to be regardless of immigration policies.
May you find the place where you become the best version of yourself, and when you do, may you share your story to remind others they can do the same
And to my mother: no matter where we are, you are my home.
For more on Tania’s advocacy work, watch her TEDx talk “How to Protect People and Planet.”
Tania Roa graduated from Tufts University with a Master of Science in Animals and Public Policy. She now works for environmental nonprofits, helping them expand their reach. Through her articles, presentations, and nature photography, Tania emphasizes the interconnections between animal, planet, and human health. She advocates for climate and social justice by spreading awareness, such as through the podcast she co-founded: Closing the Gap. Tania enjoys travelling, snorkelling, and hiking. LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/tania-roa-902/ Instagram: @nature_tania Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/tania.roa.5/ Twitter: @tierra_tania
