On Being a Mexican Immigrant, a Mother, and Still Pursuing a Passion.

Originally published April 2023

Growing up in Mexico, I was surrounded by siblings, childhood friends, and extended family. Everyone I knew looked like me, spoke my language, and knew me, sometimes better than I knew myself. After immigrating to America, however, I found myself isolated and lonely. I had two small children, and a then-husband who often had to travel for work. I struggled to fit in with the suburban mothers. They thought my foreign accent was cute, but they did not understand my culture or where I came from. I was young, alone, and consumed by the demands of raising children. Somewhere along the way, I had lost sight of what I wanted for myself.

For a long time, I felt lost. Of course, I loved my children, and over time, I made a few lifelong friends in this new and unfamiliar place. But I had always dreamed of becoming a scientist and explorer, of living a life filled with adventure. I did not want to resign myself to a life I might come to regret. Then, one day, my husband came home with an old film camera. Suddenly, I had something of my own to pursue, a hobby I could explore while raising my children.

I dove headfirst into film photography, fumbling with the heavy camera and learning the basics. In our home’s boiler room, I made a makeshift dark room and recruited my kids to help with cutting and organizing family photos. I then found myself taking pictures at school events and being asked to take family portraits of the other soccer moms’ families. From there, it was weddings, engagements, and covering the local charity run.

I was lucky enough to be able to travel with my husband to other countries, often to remote places I had never even dreamed of seeing, let alone photographing. On those trips we would bring the kids whenever we could, which left me in the exceedingly complicated position of balancing motherhood, photography, and travel for weeks at a time.

Still, I persisted in my newfound pastime-turned-profession. My camera became my passport to the whole world, allowing me to experience a whirlwind of new cultures, places, and the most wonderful people. It gave me purpose and the courage to leave the safety of my comfort zone. By the time my youngest left elementary school, I had made my decision: I was going to be a full-time photographer. I signed up for night classes in the city and that was it: I took off running down my new path.

For me, photography was not something to pass the hours I had while my kids were in school. It was a passion. As an immigrant, it was important for me to feel understood. And when words failed, I found that the images I took spoke for themselves. Photography was the key that opened a world of possibilities. It gave me the courage to connect with others, share my story, and pursue my dreams.

My camera has opened the world to me and, in turn, opened me to the world.

For parents and for mothers especially, it is easy to become engrossed in the daily duties of caregiving and forget about your own dreams and aspirations. I often felt guilty for not being a stay-at-home mom devoted solely to her children. But I soon realized that it was crucial for me to have something that I loved and that brought me joy outside of the house. You must remember that you are more than a parent, more than someone always needed by others. You are your own person with unique interests and talents, and it is vital to nurture those aspects of yourself.

There will never be a perfect time to pursue something you love. But if you never take the chance, you will never know what you are capable of becoming. If you had told me thirty years ago that I would be where I am today, I would never have believed you. When I first came to the United States, everything was a challenge, from adapting to a new culture to learning English. Then I had children, and life became ten times harder.

It truly is never too late to pursue your passion, no matter where you are in life. In the end this is the lesson I passed on to my children and now I have the privilege of watching their young adult selves making and re-making their own lives in the world. And I know that if they stumble or become lost down the road, they will find new purpose and start again.

When you get to a crossroads you will find that beneath all the challenges, you are still you, and there is still so much of your life left to discover. My advice is to make that first step, no matter how small, and see where it takes you.