One thing that I took for granted until somewhat recently was my family’s, notably parents who have lived in the States for almost 30 years, attitude towards pretty much everyone around them. You can tell them one thing — support it with 10 facts and argue for hours — if it is not something they believe in, their mind won’t be changed. The term for this is ‘Inat’ in Serbian, a word that is pretty much impossible to translate but is related to a combination of stubbornness, spite and pride.
When kids in elementary school scrunched up their noses at the ghastly sight of my stuffed zucchini or when a girl in Belgrade informed me that my 12-year-old self was solely responsible for NATO’s decision to bomb the country, my parents never made any of it a spectacle. Their response was always something along the lines of “who cares, so what they don’t know you. You know who you are, why are you upset and feel like you need to prove something?”
“Imaj svoje JA,” is a phrase that permanently hangs around in my head, following me wherever I go, making itself known whatever I do. It simply means “Have your own you,” and my mom still will sometimes repeat it when I am questioning myself.
All of this being said, I haven’t actually ever asked my parents about how their own identities have changed since moving to the States, it wasn’t even until I did this interview that I realized that since their 30th anniversary of moving from Serbia is coming up that they have both spent the majority of their life outside of the country they were born and raised in. In order to get a sense of the things that have changed over the years for my parents and to understand why they made certain choices.
For some context, when my parents got a green card for the US through the Diversity Visa program, Yugoslavia had started breaking apart a few years before they left. Territorial disputes, declarations of independence and political interests led to a series of wars throughout the region, directly affecting all six of the former republics that belonged to the broken country. While many people would be displaced physically, others faced stark economic and social disruption. Both of my parents were born and raised in Serbia’s capital, Belgrade and would feel the latter.
Although it’s just the three of us that live in the States, my parents continue making an effort to regularly cook traditional food, speak the language and celebrate Orthodox holidays; all things that I can proudly say now they’ve passed down to me. In an ironic way I think it’s the ‘inat’ that has helped us preserve their since the response to being asked if they feel as if their identities have changed is:
It seems ridiculous to state the obvious, there have been significant learning curves for my parents to get to this point especially when it comes to adjusting to completely new habits, ideas and rituals….
My moms parents and my dads mom all still live in Belgrade. If you’ve seen any of those videos that go viral for some reason that show former socialist housing blocks filled with brutalist apartment buildings that are adorned with terrible tags and serviced by the sketchiest elevator you’ve ever seen; that is where my grandparents live. Coincidentally it’s one of my favorite areas of the city because it’s those playgrounds where I had some of my best memories and met some of my best friends whom I’ve known over 15 years (longer than anyone here). Despite each block having a grocery store and post office, decent public transportation to the free public hospitals and large farmers markets, having your parents reaching their late 80s and early 90s is no joke, making it one of the hardest things for my parents to deal with while living in the States…
A core memory I have is getting dropped off at preschool for the first time and crying after my mom because everyone around me was speaking a language completely foreign to me. At that point, I had only been exposed to Serbian nursery rhymes and could probably only say “Hello” in English. I of course got over it pretty quickly though because it’s not like the kids around me spoke in sentences with more than 5 words.
As I grew up though, I wasn’t really allowed to speak English at home, it was only if I really needed some kind of homework help that it was impossible for me to translate. Even the playground drama in elementary school has to be translated. As much as I hated it and wished I could use my hard earned California vocal fry, it has ironically become one of my favorite things that my parents did for me when I was younger. One of my favorite compliments I receive is when people ask me why my Serbian sounds so good when they realize I’ve never actually lived there.
While on the topic of living there, I began to seriously entertain the idea about three years ago and it was last summer where I really cemented the idea into my head to the point that my friend Jela doesn’t ask when I’m visiting for the summer but instead asks when I’m moving. Aside from the actual logistics that I need to figure out of making this move happen, dealing with the reality of leaving Chicago and finding a job in journalism within a country whose news model is completely different (and dare I say incredibly corrupt but interesting to navigate), it’s been an idea that both my parents seem to like, which doesn’t usually happen without a good deal of back-and-forth.
It’s interesting getting to talk to your family about their thoughts on your shared experiences, mostly because I think it’s one of the best ways to help you understand yourself. Do it while and when you can.
All photos have been taken by family members (most by Bojan Simović). This piece was originally performed live as a part of 14 East Live 2025.
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