From Kathmandu to Campus : A Mother’s Journey into Graduate School Life in the U.S.
I can still remember the day our flight touched down in the United States. It was not only the start of a new academic journey—it was the beginning of an entirely new chapter for my family and me.
My name is Aastha. I'm a Ph.D. student, from Nepal. But I don't just wear that role—I'm also a wife and mother. Three personas, always juggling, always overlapping. When I was getting ready to leave Kathmandu, I didn't realize how many roles I would have to play at the same time. I just knew I had a dream, and I was going to go for it.
Back home, making the decision to venture abroad for graduate school in the first place was an audacious thing to do. For a woman and a mother to venture abroad for advanced studies always raises more questions than congratulations. But with my child and husband's support behind me, I decided to push away that gentle but persistent voice in me—the one that continued to whisper, you're entitled to dream too.
Arriving in the U.S. was one of excitement, fright, and culture shock. I went from being part of big family to that of small three-person family in a new land. I went from hearing sounds of streets and pungent home-cooked food to hushed corridors and microwave lunch during late-night study. Everyday was transition—adapting to childcare, acclimating to campus, coping with homesickness, and still arriving at class ready to learn.
There were moments when I was torn—when I skipped a class session because my child was sick with a fever, or when I submitted an assignment at 11:59 PM after the rest of the household had gone to bed. But there were moments of pure joy—when I went to my first academic conference, when a professor acknowledged my brilliance, when my child informed me that she is proud of me.
Balancing motherhood and graduate school is not easy. There are no perfect days. But there is meaning in every messy, beautiful, exhausting one. I’ve learned that strength doesn’t always roar—sometimes it’s just showing up, again and again.
Social media—Facebook, Instagram, Threads, X—have been unexpected lifelines. They've served to connect me with other Nepali mothers, other scholars, other women traversing parallel lives. Sites that used to be a site for hollow scrolling are now my personal learning network. A space for community, a space for support, and sometimes, just a space for a fleeting intake of laughter during an otherwise long day.
I write this blog, not just to share my story, but to remind anyone else on a similar journey: You're not alone. Your dreams are real. And even if your journey may look different—specifically because you are a mother, a wife, or a caregiver—it's still worth it.
Here's to the late nights, the countless readings, the little victories. Here's to claiming both family and future. And here's to finding your voice.
With gratitude.🌞
Back home, making the decision to venture abroad for graduate school in the first place was an audacious thing to do. For a woman and a mother to venture abroad for advanced studies always raises more questions than congratulations. But with my child and husband's support behind me, I decided to push away that gentle but persistent voice in me—the one that continued to whisper, you're entitled to dream too.
Arriving in the U.S. was one of excitement, fright, and culture shock. I went from being part of big family to that of small three-person family in a new land. I went from hearing sounds of streets and pungent home-cooked food to hushed corridors and microwave lunch during late-night study. Everyday was transition—adapting to childcare, acclimating to campus, coping with homesickness, and still arriving at class ready to learn.
There were moments when I was torn—when I skipped a class session because my child was sick with a fever, or when I submitted an assignment at 11:59 PM after the rest of the household had gone to bed. But there were moments of pure joy—when I went to my first academic conference, when a professor acknowledged my brilliance, when my child informed me that she is proud of me.
Balancing motherhood and graduate school is not easy. There are no perfect days. But there is meaning in every messy, beautiful, exhausting one. I’ve learned that strength doesn’t always roar—sometimes it’s just showing up, again and again.
Social media—Facebook, Instagram, Threads, X—have been unexpected lifelines. They've served to connect me with other Nepali mothers, other scholars, other women traversing parallel lives. Sites that used to be a site for hollow scrolling are now my personal learning network. A space for community, a space for support, and sometimes, just a space for a fleeting intake of laughter during an otherwise long day.
I write this blog, not just to share my story, but to remind anyone else on a similar journey: You're not alone. Your dreams are real. And even if your journey may look different—specifically because you are a mother, a wife, or a caregiver—it's still worth it.
Here's to the late nights, the countless readings, the little victories. Here's to claiming both family and future. And here's to finding your voice.
With gratitude.🌞
Hello Aastha,
ReplyDeleteI am touched by your academic journey and the homesickness that can accompany it. I can relate in a way because I've experienced reverse culture shock. I'm originally from the USA, and I have taught English abroad. I lived in Vietnam for about six years, and when I moved back home, it felt so quiet and lifeless. Something in me misses the chaotic traffic, the smells of street markets, and neighbors gossiping at the local cafe on small plastic stools every morning. Even simple things like saying hello to my Grab driver delivering my lunch have been replaced with a ring on the doorbell or a text message. I open the door, and my food is there without human interaction.
It's terrific that you've found a community that can support you on your academic journey in the US. People who have moved to different countries find themselves in this kind of liminal space near the boundary of their country and their adopted country. It makes it easier for others with similar experiences to relate to one another. I hope we can support and encourage each other in our course this summer.
Hi Aastha! Thank you for sharing your experience. It sounds like a lot to balance. Being an international student and being a student parent -- either one of these things is a challenge enough, but both at the same time is a really heavy load to carry, and I am sure it gets overwhelming! And not only is the US a culture shock, but Tallahassee (and the deep south in general) is a pretty unique part of the country. Sometimes even domestic students experience culture shock if they move here from another part of the country, or even just from Miami!
ReplyDeleteAs an academic advisor, I often find that the students who are balancing caregiving with their studies are also the students who leave campus most prepared to succeed in their careers. It is really impressive that you've been able to do what you're doing! Congratulations on following your dream, and good luck with the rest of your academic career.