The quotation at the end of the journey84 Super Bowl commercial resonated with me, jolting this particular memory…

Dad called for a family meeting in the master’s bedroom. I was eleven years old at the time. I’ve never seen my dad cry before. There are a few instances in my life when he did, and those moments are ones mets with heart-wrenching, internal agony. This particular moment was the very first time I saw him cry. He sat in his favorite leather reclining chair while my mom stood next to him. My older sister and I were sitting on the floor. His body hunched-over and somber demeanor did not portend well. I thought someone in the family had died by the look on his face. But what he said next was convincing enough. “There is a possibility that you and mom have to go back to the Philippines.” As a child, I didn’t understand the complexities living here as an immigrant, what it meant to have a workers’ permit or green card. My parents did a good job sheltering me and my sister from that. They just continued to tell us to keep working hard. That moment was my first bitter taste of immigrant struggle. In that moment, my dad burst into tears, and so did I. I ran into my room after that, looked at the cross hanging above my bed, and prayed to God whatever an eleven year old girl knew what to pray for that moment. God, please don’t let this happen. Don’t let this be true. Please.

“The will to succeed is always welcome here.” What a profound statement. It is a touching and moving concept that stems from a memory like mine. As an immigrant, “success” is one of the words you think about when you look at America and think about its history. You always hear about the American dream. You come here with an internal desire to be great and to fulfill your potential. You try your best to transcend and not build boundaries for yourself, well aware that while there maybe obstacles are around every corner, America can give you an opportunity and ability to overcome.