A short interview with four racialized undergraduate women, highlighting an inspiring shift in traditional notions of success.
Uma Mody, Features Writer
Hustle. Endure. Achieve. Repeat.
What does it mean to define your own success when generations before you taught you what success should look like? In this day and age, does a sense of gratitude trump personal ambition and one’s own belief of achievement?
For daughters of immigrant families—particularly first- and second-generation Black and Brown women—these questions sit not at the back of the mind, but at the center of daily decision making. A “successful daughter” is often imagined as disciplined, grateful, and endlessly resilient. And for racialized women who already navigate systemic barriers, their path to achievement becomes a balancing act of two forces: adapting to a world where success has expanded beyond traditional careers—think structured, hierarchical, professional careers (doctor, lawyer, teacher, etc.)—and honouring the sacrifices and wishes of those that gave them the chance to dream at all.
As I sit in the library in my final week of undergrad, I think back to the all-nighters, the back-to-back papers, and the group projects that nearly had me ripping my hair out. Every day on campus, students are working towards something. But for Black and Brown women in particular, the load seems heavier: the expectations of tradition, the desire to not disappoint, the gratitude for opportunity, and the quiet hope that prioritizing herself won’t be mistaken for selfishness.
In the midst of the clicking keyboards and ruffling cue cards, I also hear something shifting. Today, Black and Brown women are challenging long-held scripts about achievement and redefining what success can look like. I spoke with four undergraduates—each of them from different Black and Brown cultural backgrounds—about how their understandings of success have evolved.
Ishika is a 22-year-old psychology, mental health, and policy student at the University of Waterloo. Her family is Indian, and she was born and raised in Markham, Ontario.
Husna is a 23-year-old PA in Law, Justice, and Public Policy student at York University. She is Somali, and grew up in Scarborough and Mississauga, Ontario.
Nephertari, 22, is a human biology, immunology, and medical anthropology student at the University of Toronto. She is Black with Caribbean and South Asian heritage, and grew up in Markham, Ontario.
And Kalaishiga, 22, is a sociology, criminology and sociolegal studies student at the University of Toronto. She is Sri Lankan Tamil, raised in Markham, Ontario.
Define the idea of “success” to you:
Ishika: “I think that success looks different for every individual, and it’s more of an inner sense of accomplishment and satisfaction.”
Husna: “Success to me means that I reach a place in my life where I am fulfilled in most, if not all, aspects of my life. A balance in all parts of my life is something that I wish to achieve in the future because to me, having a stable and fulfilling career means that I am not only able to take care of myself, but also my loved ones.”
Nephertari: “In the last decade, my definition of success has been reshaped by my personal experiences with mental health challenges, deaths of loved ones, and my parents’ careers. I’ve learned success isn’t about how much money you make, or how many degrees you’ve accumulated over the years. To me being successful means simply setting small goals that make YOU happy and trying your best to attain those goals while staying true to your morals and values. I say this, because I think we live in a society where success is so often measured in wealth and status, and as a result we miss out on the everyday wins we achieve, like checking all the boxes on our to-do lists, getting a 15-minute workout in, or just drinking enough water for the day.”
Kalaishiga: “My family lived in survival mode, and because of everything they endured to set us up with more privilege, my idea of success is to use that privilege … to explore, experience, and take risks that allow me to understand myself and the world more deeply. To me, success means being able to look at my life and see that I am in spaces rooted in love, surrounded by good people, and constantly challenging myself. It means continuing to educate myself and paying forward all the sacrifice, care, and resilience that brought me here. I am likely one of the first women in my family’s lineage to live such an independent life, with the freedom to ask myself ‘What’s next?’”
Do you and your parents’ understandings of success align? Why or why not do you think that is the case?
Ishika: “No. I think my parents view success more as having certain things or accomplishments that fit an external mold of what is successful. For example, my dad has placed a lot of importance on what I’m studying and what my future career will be. He has stressed the fact that certain careers, such as being a doctor or engineer, are seen as the ‘gold standard’ careers, while others are seen as less than. I think my dad holds this view because he grew up immersed in a culture and family where there were a lot of external pressures and standards placed on him.”
Husna: “My understanding of success stems from what my parents have taught me about being successful, and watching them continue to navigate life. However there are definitely places where our definitions do not align. For them, hustle culture definitely stems from moving to this country in a sort of ‘survival mode.’ There was no luxury to pick and choose jobs, because it was a means of putting food on the table, as well as supporting family back home. Through this I have learned that if I want to show up for others it cannot always come at the expense of my own well-being. Being more selective with my career decisions and doing ‘side-quests’ that are linked to my passions as well has often worried my parents because they think I am distracted. Taking lessons from the opportunities that have provided me means that I strive to have their discipline and generosity, but also show them that self-care and a fulfilled personal life is just as important as a ‘stable’ and traditional career path.”
Nephertari: “I think my and my parent’s idea of success are similar if not the same. Growing up, my parents always instilled in me how important it was to believe in myself, and that once I believed in myself anything was possible. Consequently, what I wanted to be when I grew up changed over the years, since I knew that my parents would support and love me regardless of if I wanted to be an actress or rocket scientist. I think for my parents, a successful Nephertari means I’m doing my best at something I love, in good mental and physical health, regardless of whether it’s the highest paying job or not, and now that I think about it, for that I am truly grateful. I feel this is my parents’ idea of success because they’ve always been quite progressive, and understanding of how cutthroat academia can be, and so at the end of the day they just want me to be happy and healthy.”
Kalaishiga: “My parents grew up with traditional South Asian ideas of success, which were tied to stability, security, and status. As I have grown older, our understandings of success have both shifted. While we still see success differently in some ways, I think we are learning to meet in the middle. My parents now have a better understanding of the kind of work and thinking that motivates me. They see the intention behind my choices, my commitment to social science, and my passion for creating meaningful and grounded change. Even if my path looks different from the one they imagined, they can see the values they raised me with reflected in who I am becoming. We align most in our shared belief that success should come with integrity, care, and purpose. Where we differ is in how that success is expressed. For me, success is about building a fulfilling life, contributing to the world in a way that feels honest, and staying connected to the people I love.”
What emerges from these stories is not a rejection of culture, sacrifice, family, or an overall act of rebellion. Instead, it is an emancipation from cultural expectations rooted in gratitude that has not only allowed these women to define their own paths, but has also incited an empathetic shift in perspective towards their parents. Definitions of achievement are no longer dictated solely by traditional values—especially when it comes to following career expectations—but by purpose, authenticity, and emotional wellbeing.
Through a variety of stories, the women interviewed all share at least one thing in common: they are learning ways to choose and focus on themselves over solely valuing traditional expectations, thus expanding what success can look like for the generations that follow.
