I am the first person in my family to be born in America. I was born at Saint Peter’s Hospital in New Brunswick, New Jersey on October 2, 2008. Being the only member of my family with birthright citizenship grants opportunities my parents never had, and also creates a sense of not fully belonging. Caught between the country of my birth and the country from which my parents come from. I grew up navigating two worlds. At home, I practiced the language, values, and traditions of Albania. Outside, I adapted to American culture, expectations, and norms. Living in two worlds has made me stronger and helped me see things in new ways, but it also makes me wonder, where do I truly belong? 

My family came to America in 2007, my parents and two sisters arrived with no knowledge of English, no money, only a determination to pursue the American Dream and achieve a better life for themselves and their children. Their opportunity to immigrate came by chance. My father, a hardworking man day and night, discovered the possibility of migration through scratch-off lottery tickets. Never would he have imagined he would be the person to win and get the chance to bring his family to America. Ever since a young age, he worked tirelessly for the people he loved; even during uncertain times, he persisted. Even when he was forced to go days without eating, getting jobs at a young age to be financially stable or even when he was drafted, he never let that stop him. Still when he did come to America, he never knew he would still be working as hard as he was in Albania. Fearful yet determined, long days and nights became his life again, but this time it was for his children. He sacrificed his American dream so his children could have theirs.

I have opportunities my parents never had. I go to school, get an education, and have the freedom to explore my interests and dreams without having to worry about the struggles they faced. At the same time, I still carry Albanian culture with me everywhere I go. I speak the language at home, know the traditions, and live by the values my parents taught me. But even with all these advantages, I find myself stuck between the identities of Albanian and American. While visiting my family or vacationing in Albania, I am called “Amerikane”, an American girl. Even though I greet everyone in Albanian and follow their customs. It’s like I’m some kind of outsider in my own family. In their eyes, I am this foreign “American girl,” but in America, I am seen as Albanian, the girl from another culture. I am caught between these two worlds feeling hopeful yet guilty for the opportunities I have that my parents never did, knowing all the sacrifices they made to give me a better life. On the other hand, I have this amazing right to be American, and they do not, making me distressed and out of place in both worlds. I can never fully be part of either world without the feeling of guilt and tension, instead I stand in the middle, moving between both stepping into one and then the other never completely at home in either. It makes me wonder, where do I truly belong? Do I deserve to be called American or Albanian?