They pack their lives into a suitcase, board the plane, and pray for success. They don't speak English, know where they are going to live, nor do they have jobs. All they could do was have courage and hope that everything would be worth it.

My parents hung on to this shred of hope as they began anew in the United States. My dad finished his high school career in Los Angeles, went to university in Wisconsin, and moved to New York to work. My mom completed her bachelors degree in South Korea and moved to New York as well. Neither of them knew as much as a sliver of English, just enough to say "hello" or "goodbye."

Now in 2016, both of them speak English fluently and have become fully accustomed to the American lifestyle. They aren't the stereotypical tiger-like Asian parents that force their children to only focus on studying and idealize the Ivy League. No, my sister and I pursue all our academic and non-academic interests to the fullest extent. We are both very artsy and creativity oriented with no desire to become engineers or doctors. My sister spends her free time reading up on the latest news about the film industry, while I like to polish my baking skills. When I told my parents I wanted to major in writing they both said without hesitation, "Go for it." Being an aspiring writer isn't the most lucrative practice, yet they still proudly tell our friends and family that I'm joyfully studying the nuances of the English language. I'm happy with what I'm doing and that's what matters.

I can not fathom the amount of courage it takes to immigrate to a new country, especially to a place where there are so many cultural differences, in addition to a language barrier. I was anxious to move to Pittsburgh from New York -- I had no idea what to expect, how to get around the city or if I would make new friends. When I look back on this "big move" I see how easy it was -- I had a place to live, funds to support myself, and could visit home whenever I pleased. I had nothing to worry about.

The ease with which I've lived all my life was only made possible by the sacrifices that my parents have and still continue to make. I know that they have worked harder than I ever have, maybe ever will, to give me the comfortable life that I have. They endured the pressures, the struggles, and the anxieties of being an outsider trying to fit in, all in hopes of ensuring that their future children and grandchildren would not have to experience the hardships they did. This is the ultimate sacrifice of all first generation migrants.

First-generation immigrants are like superheroes that are here to save us from insecurity and instability, and instead, give us the freedom to discover what we are passionate about, what we feel like our purpose is. First-generation migrants give us a rare chance to curate our own life journeys -- an opportunity to shape my future anyway I please.

So thank you to my parents and all other first generation migrants for being courageous and selfless enough to make that big move. I know I take the sacrifices you all have made for granted much too often, but I promise that I'm beginning to understand the significance they have in my life. I aspire to be as dedicated, fearless, and magnanimous as each and every one of you someday.

Much thanks,

Izzy