‘The American Dream’ Isn’t One-Size-Fits-All: Part 2

This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at UCF chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.

As mentioned in my previous article, immigration has never been a one-size-fits-all story. While my parents’ journeys highlight just two perspectives, they’re part of a much larger picture that continues to shape America today. To truly understand the “American Dream,” we must zoom out, looking not only at individual stories but also at the broader forces of politics, culture, and economics that shape the immigrant experience so differently now than it was then.

The bigger picture

America has always been a nation of immigrants. From politics to culture, the economy to everyday life, immigrants have shaped this country at every level. For generations, people came here with the hope of building a better life, pursuing education, raising families, and working their way toward success.

The truth is, immigrants are essential to the nation’s growth. They fill critical labor shortages, drive innovation in technology and medicine, boost consumer demand, and contribute billions in tax revenue, which funds the social programs, such as Social Security and Medicare, that millions of Americans rely on.

They also expand the labor force, launch new businesses at remarkably high rates, and fuel the country’s reputation as a global powerhouse. Indian immigrants, for example, are often cited as amongst the most successful immigrant groups, with the highest median household income and the highest level of college attainment. However, that doesn’t mean other groups are any less vital. Every community, regardless of its background, plays a role in shaping America into what it is today — a country that thrives because of its diversity.

But even after so much progress, many immigrants still face discrimination and hostility, despite their contributions that have shaped America. And while the politics of immigration dominate headlines, what often gets lost is the human side of the story. That’s what I want to focus on: the realities of chasing the “American Dream,” no matter the origin, social standing, or circumstances that brought someone here.

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Chasing a better future

For some immigrants, the “American Dream” can feel surprisingly within reach. Having family already settled here, financial security back home, or simply arriving at the right time can make the transition much smoother. With built-in support, finding housing, paying tuition, or even navigating citizenship can feel less daunting. But for others, the journey is far more complicated.

Starting over in an unfamiliar country often means juggling multiple jobs to make ends meet, navigating language barriers, or trying to understand complex visa systems with limited guidance. On top of that, there’s the weight of cultural isolation and the sting of discrimination, moments that can make even the strongest people question their place here. These two realities coexist: one where opportunity feels accessible and hopeful, and another where it’s an uphill climb that demands resilience at every turn. Both are equally part of what shapes the immigrant experience.

“The very fabric of American society is woven with immigrant stories. This country’s success and growth come from people bringing their ideas and talents from all over the world, making it what it is today. If America were to close its doors to immigrants, it would lose the very edge that makes it so great,” my mom, Prachi Deshpande, said.

So what does the “American Dream” really mean today? For some, it’s still tied to the classic image of owning a home, building a family, and climbing the ladder of success. For others, especially younger generations, it looks less like material milestones and more like stability, freedom, or simply the chance to belong. Rising tuition costs, student debt, immigration restrictions, and an increasingly polarized political climate have made the dream feel less attainable than it once seemed, especially for those starting from scratch.

At the same time, stories of resilience — immigrants who carve out new lives despite those obstacles — prove that the dream hasn’t disappeared, but instead has shifted into something more complicated, personal, and less universal. The “American Dream” is no longer a singular promise, but rather a spectrum of experiences shaped by who you are, when you arrive, and what resources you have when you get here.

Then vs. now

When my parents came to America in the 90s, the landscape looked very different. Of course, coming from a stable financial background and being highly educated made a difference, but immigration itself was also different and simpler then. Tuition was more affordable, the job market was more open, and immigration policies, while never simple, weren’t as politically charged or polarizing as they are today.

For those like my dad, Ranjeet Deshpande, who already had family networks and a green card, settling in felt relatively straightforward. Even my mom, who had to work her way up, was able to find educational and professional opportunities that gave her a pathway to eventually establish herself. The “American Dream,” while never guaranteed, felt like something you could reach if you worked hard enough and were willing to adapt.

Fast forward to today, and the climb is much steeper for many immigrants. Tuition and living costs have skyrocketed, visa and citizenship pathways are more restrictive, and the political climate is filled with debates that often question immigrants’ very belonging. Even for families who arrive with education or financial resources, the barriers can feel overwhelming. “Making it” in America is still possible, but it now demands navigating a system that feels more exclusive, more expensive, and more uncertain than the one my parents entered decades ago.

This contrast between past immigration and contemporary immigration also shapes the perspectives of older-generation immigrants who are now well-established in America. Some carry deep empathy, remembering the uncertainty of their own first steps here and recognizing that every immigrant’s story is unique. They see the promise of America as something that should remain open and accessible, even if the path looks different now.

Others, however, take a stricter stance. Having endured their own struggles, they may feel that newer immigrants should “prove” themselves in the same way, or that the U.S. should only admit those who are highly educated or financially secure. These divided viewpoints reveal just how complex the idea of the “American Dream” has become. What once felt more attainable now seems more complicated to reach, and that shift affects not just new arrivals but also the way older immigrants view the next wave.

When I asked my mom whether she thinks immigration has changed since the 90s, she pointed to a shift in perception more than policy.

“The process and legality haven’t really changed, but the emotions around it definitely have. Back then, immigrants came with different purposes, followed the legal process, and were accepted for it. We had our struggles, of course, but we felt welcome and never like second-class citizens. Now, it feels as if immigration itself carries a negative connotation, as though it’s something unnatural.”

The Next Generation: Why It Matters for Us

Growing up with two immigrant parents from different backgrounds gave me a nuanced perspective on identity, resilience, and what it means to succeed. Both of my parents are incredibly hardworking and highly educated, and they instilled in me the belief that anything is possible with determination. Even with the advantages they carried into this country — family support, education, and stability — they still had to navigate challenges, build their own lives, and make sacrifices.

My dad went from being your average college student, working on his engineering projects in the dorms, to becoming a respected leader in the nuclear industry. My mom, bright and ambitious, balanced her career aspirations with raising my brother and me, making sure that even as my dad’s work intensified, we grew up with strong role models at home. Together, they taught me never to forget where we came from, to treat others with kindness, and to remember that success is built on sacrifice.

Like many children of immigrants, I’ve found this experience both beautiful and challenging. I sometimes wonder where I fit: am I more American, or more Indian? I grew up speaking English as my first language, eating Goldfish crackers and pasta, and watching my incredibly Indian grandma smile through her confusion as I chattered away in my “too fast, too American” accent. Visits back to India could feel overwhelming — the language barriers, cultural norms, and rhythms of life were foreign to me, even though the place itself is part of who I am.

And yet, that duality is also a gift. Being raised between two cultures gives me double the perspective and double the pride. I’ll always carry my Indian heritage with me, not just because it grounds me, but because it reminds me of how hard my parents worked to build the life I have today. For me, and for so many other students with immigrant roots, that’s the true legacy of the “American Dream:” honoring our parents’ sacrifices while learning to carve out our own identities in a place they once only dreamed of calling home.

At its core, the immigrant experience is about more than just survival or success — it’s about diversity, belonging, and empathy. College campuses like UCF thrive on these values, where students from diverse backgrounds bring unique perspectives, traditions, and stories that enrich the community. For children of immigrants, belonging can feel complicated. Still, it also creates space for more profound empathy because we know what it feels like to straddle cultures, to translate between worlds, and to see identity as something layered rather than fixed. That kind of perspective isn’t just valuable, it’s powerful, because it challenges us to embrace difference instead of fearing it.

In a political climate where immigration is often reduced to numbers or debates, remembering the human side — our classmates, friends, and neighbors — is what truly keeps the “American Dream” alive.

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Redefining the “American Dream”

The “American Dream” isn’t a single path or a neat finish line. It’s a mosaic of stories, each built differently depending on who you are, when you arrive, and what resources you carry with you. My parents’ journeys, though contrasting, reflect just two of the countless ways immigrants carve out a place for themselves in America. For some, the dream comes with safety nets and smoother transitions. For others, it demands resilience in the face of uncertainty. But every story matters, because together they form the fabric of what this country really is. Remembering that truth and embracing the diversity, sacrifices, and hopes that shape it is how we keep the “American Dream” alive, not just for ourselves, but for the generations that come after us.

“Just taking the step to come here is already a great achievement. The road may be difficult, but every effort you make is an investment in your future. For me, coming to America was a dream come true, and I was fortunate to have certain advantages. But the dream doesn’t end there. You should keep pushing, keep dreaming, because you can achieve more than you ever imagined.”

I often wonder if my parents truly realized what they had accomplished when they moved into that modest brick ranch house in Aiken, South Carolina, in 2005. They had been married just five years, about to become first-time parents, and had secured humble but steady jobs. With a beige Toyota Camry in the driveway and the quiet relief of stability in a foreign land, that house represented far more than walls and a roof — it was proof that their sacrifices were leading somewhere.

For so many immigrants, the “American Dream” has never been about wealth or status but rather the security of knowing you’ve built a life from the ground up in a place that once felt impossibly distant. My parents’ path may look different from that of the millions of others chasing the same dream. Still, the outcome is uniquely theirs: a life they created not only because of how they arrived, but because of the choices, sacrifices, and resilience that carried them once they got here.