The tired twenty-one year old, first generation american, future social worker — a conversation with “Zelda”
Recently I’ve met a young woman (we will call her Zelda) who’s studying to become a social worker but who’s burdened by her parents and younger siblings, her own responsibilities, and her generational curse.
Upon first glance you would think Zelda was having a long day. Except that her long day was actually a strip of long days. Then months. Then years. She’s just beginning her twenties and yet she refers to herself as low key thirty. You see Zelda suffers from what so many first generation and second generation children go through, the responsibility of bringing their family out of the dark.
Now the dark can mean many things. Like undiagnosed depression, financial insecurity, or just the responsibility of attaining success. In my family all three had occurred and Zelda was experiencing the same. She spoke to me about her choice in major and wanting to become a social worker. A job which I called extremely humanitarian and was happy to celebrate with her.
But the pressure to earn enough to support several mouths had made Zelda question her career choice. Not only that but her past friends had made her feel like she had made the wrong choice. Unlike Zelda these friends had the freedom to chase after engineering careers or more financially lucrative careers. It made Zelda feel like her choice wasn’t good enough.
I told Zelda she needed new friends. Zelda agreed and had actually worked on making new ones who could relate to her life more. For that I’m happy.
Zelda isn’t just a daughter but forced to fill the role of a parent, a provider, a savior, and a role model. On her slim shoulders rests the future of her family.
Through one conversation with Zelda I could relate to many of the things she was experiencing. A missed or short childhood. The pressure of not being able to afford mistakes. The importance of graduating quickly with a major that will make money. The responsibility of setting a good example for her siblings. The reality that her life hadn’t really begun yet.
Wanting to learn and help I listened intently to her story and asked if there were things she did or could do that made her days better? (Internally I was wondering if there was anything I could do to make her days better.) I asked if there was a point in time, maybe in 5 years, where her adulting would end and her freedom would begin? I thought that if she knew she only needed to financially support her family for another five years that she could look forward to that.
She mentioned she started working out. That for two hours out of her day she was free of everything. I could definitely relate to that. I was happy that she had at least that to unwind from her burdens.
There is no clear end to Zelda’s responsibilities just yet but unlike when she was younger and had felt resentful to her parents at least now she squares her shoulders and announces that she can take it on.
In that moment, listening to her determination, her eyes looked bright. She no longer looked tired.
For those few minutes I could physically see that at least until things improved gradually that she could and would withstand the hard stuff. That eventually things won’t always feel so tiring.
For someone who is twenty-one Zelda has experienced so much and accomplished so much for herself and family. (I told her so.) She will be graduating very soon with a degree in social work. I was so happy to have had a conversation with her. To see how much a person can accomplish. To be inspired again.
I was also reminded of how much people go through that no one ever knows about. These are our friends, coworkers, and sometimes the people that answer your “good morning, how are you” with “I’m good, just tired.” For me it was important to remember this. To listen to others. To help in some little way by saying ‘I see you.’
