By Gopika SenthilKumar, PhD
I still remember the news of the 2008 economic crash playing everywhere within a few weeks of us arriving in the US. As a first-generation immigrant family, this meant the highest level of uncertainty about our jobs, residence, and place of employment. Sure enough, in the years that followed, we ended up having to move six times over six years.
I have a few distinct memories of these times. I still remember the first year that we were here – I was 11 years old, and I wanted a nightstand and wardrobe and a bookshelf in my room like all the other kids,… but it was too risky to spend our savings on furniture. Instead, I used to take cardboard boxes, build them into shelves, rearrange them if I was bored, and I was a very happy kid. We didn’t have a car for a while, so every morning my dad would walk with me to the bus stop, and if we happened to miss the bus (god forbid if it was in the winter!), he would walk a mile and a half to drop me off at school, walk the whole way back, and then start his workday. I also remember the many times that I had to sit alone at lunch because I was always the new kid, and being turned down for a band because it required us to buy our own expensive instrument with no guarantees of staying in the country. I nearly failed a class in middle school because I could not understand the accents in some classic American movies and the grades in that class were based on our answers to questions about these movies. Somehow, the teacher could not comprehend how I could not understand the accents. I usually joke that I was an indecisive kid, and so I applied to colleges for architecture, pre-law, and biomedical engineering. In reality, I didn’t know any better. And of course, there are the classic stories that you might’ve heard from most Asian immigrant kids – the bullying for smelling like our food, dressing differently from the other kids, etc.
But, it was not all doom and gloom. In fact, most of my memories are not unhappy. I still remember the joy of playing soccer outside every day with a bunch of kids who were also from immigrant families. I remember how much fun it was to have my grandparents here over the summers, and the incredible quantities of chicken biriyani I have eaten (best food ever – must try). I will never forget the countless jokes and happy moments with my sister and family. I loved being a part of Indian Classical charity dance shows and being able to celebrate our culture to benefit important causes. Of course, I could not express more gratitude for the educational, career, and leadership opportunities that were available to me – especially as a woman – here in the US. I am also incredibly grateful for the mentors, sponsors, and close friends who have gone above and beyond to support my family and me. I could not imagine what my life would be like without them.
I share my story to highlight that the stereotypes we build around Asians as a “model minority” – rich, affluent, all-successful – could not be further from the truth for many families. Immigrant Asian populations, especially, get the “double whammy” of not qualifying for financial aid or assistance for education because of visa status and also not receive support from DEI-focused efforts since we belong to an “overrepresented minority.” Beyond the finances and support, there are so many nuances that those of us on visas continue to navigate and I want to highlight a few that specifically apply to academic medicine. On a visa, we are incredibly limited in the work, research, and extracurricular opportunities that we are allowed to participate in – especially in premedical years. Importantly, these restrictions are not always obvious, and there is very limited cohesive information available about them. When we do apply for medical schools, our acceptance rates are over 2-fold lower than non-visa holders and only those with the highest GPA/MCAT scores are offered a spot (1). Whether applicants on a visa also need to be exceptional in other aspects of their application is still unknown quantitatively; however, from personal experience, I can attest that my friends on visas had to go above and beyond to secure a spot in medical school. For those of us in research-oriented careers, we qualify for very few grants/funding opportunities and have severe limitations with traveling for conferences – especially internationally (2). In medical school, we continue to face similar selective preferences for residency applications, although there is no qualified data available to truly know how residencies view US-MD students on a visa. This leaves those of us on visas with no choice but to try and be exceptional residency candidates. That is, of course, only possible for those who might not have financial limitations, family obligations, or other important factors in life that need their time, money, and attention.
I also want to acknowledge that to try and be truly exceptional – and be recognized for our success – requires many constant battles with the norms of Asian culture. We are taught not to be out-spoken or carry ourselves “too confidently,” and to always be grateful for what we have and minimize concerns. It’s not surprising that you will find very few blog posts like these from Asian immigrants. We are also taught that if you work hard, you will automatically be noticed, and so self -advocacy and -promotion are discouraged, and even deemed as “being cocky/self-centered” or a “bad omen.” Within the Asian immigrant community, there is also the constant fear of failure, as well as speaking up about a controversial topic and being reprimanded. Even when writing this article, I can hear my family’s voice in my head saying, “How might this be seen by future employers? Could this affect your visa status? What if you say something that offends your colleagues? Wouldn’t it be easier to just stay grateful for what we have and not focus on the challenges?” There is another layer to being a woman in the Asian immigrant community. There is a certain stage in our life when the entire community sees our value based on familial success and not on career success. This is not only about perceptions, but also about expectations, the norm, and having a sense of belonging to your community.
I acknowledge that there are a wide variety of experiences among those of us who identify as immigrants, Asians, and women. This blog is only a reflection of my story and is by no means meant to represent a broader voice. My hope is that this blog post empowers others to share their experiences as well so that we provide a more holistic voice to our experience and advocate for changes that help those who come after us.
- Jaber Chehayeb R, SenthilKumar G, Saade Z, Gallo Marin B, Aghagoli G, Virji AZ. Examining the First Peer-to-Peer Mentorship Program (F1Doctors) for International Medical Students. J Interdiscip Stud Educ. 2022;11(1):102-125.
- Chugh M, Joseph T. Citizenship privilege harms science. Nature. 2024;628(8008):499-501. doi:10.1038/d41586-024-01080-x
Dr. SenthilKumar was invited to contribute this article in celebration of AAPI heritage month. She is the current Chair of the Association of Women Surgeons National Medical Student Committee and is a MD-PhD student at the Medical College of Wisconsin. Dr. SenthilKumar is also a member of the Society of Asian Academic Surgeons Communications Committee and spearheads the society’s medical student SAAS Sips events (online panel discussions). Previously, Dr. SenthilKumar has served as the Executive Director and Research Coordinator for F1Doctors, a national student-led mentorship platform for international students interested in health-related careers. She is passionate about supporting and lifting-up trainees in our field, especially those who may have experienced similar challenges to her.