Saira's Story

The Cost of a Better Life

Saira was born and raised in Dhaka, Bangladesh — a city widely known for its garment factories and textile industry. From a young age, she was observant, thoughtful, and curious. She grew up surrounded by family, including siblings and extended relatives, in a tightly knit community that eventually would follow her to America. This sense of community was often grounded in shared labor, especially among women. During this time, women worked in garment factories. These jobs were seen as necessary, not voluntary, the best available option for many working-class families, despite the low wages and dangerous conditions. Today, Bangladesh is responsible for 81.16% of the ready-made garment products produced globally (Latifee).

Decades after Saira had left Bangladesh, tragedy struck close to home. A family relative of hers died in a shopping plaza collapse. The story was devastatingly common in Bangladesh, where unsafe buildings, poor labor conditions, and a lack of accountability have marked the garment industry (Amnesty International). The collapse that killed her relative mirrored the 2013 Rana Plaza disaster, when a garment factory in Dhaka, Bangladesh, collapsed, killing 1,134 people and injuring over 2,500 more. These factories, sometimes known as 'sweatshops,' are considered unsafe, unfair, and unpleasant working conditions by current standards. Since fast fashion supports offshoring to developing countries, companies do not have to worry about Western labor standards and the safety of their workers. Though the global outrage over Rana Plaza sparked reforms on paper, de facto, little changed for most garment workers (Amnesty International).

Like many immigrant families, Saira arrived in the U.S. seeking a better life—the promise of the American Dream. In 2022, nearly 41% of immigrants who came to the U.S. did so to join the workforce (USAFacts). Since at least 2006, work opportunities have consistently ranked as one of the most common reasons people immigrate to the U.S. legally. For Saira, the situation was even more urgent; she was pregnant! She relied on her husband’s steady job to provide for their growing family, while her in-laws supported her by helping care for her newborn daughter. But the promise of work doesn’t always overshadow the isolation many first-generation immigrants feel. Saira herself laments how “friend here is family now.” Her story echoes that of countless Bangladeshi immigrants striving to build a sense of home in unfamiliar places. One of the earliest examples of such efforts was Bengali Harlem—a vibrant, multiracial community in early 20th-century New York City, where Bengali Muslim immigrants, primarily seamen and peddlers, settled in Harlem and married African American and Puerto Rican women. Together, they created a unique cultural blend of South Asian, Black, and Latino traditions (Bald, 2013).

Now, in the 21st century, Bengali immigrants have carved out havens in other boroughs, reshaping neighborhoods such as Jackson Heights and Jamaica in Queens, and Newkirk Plaza and Church Avenue in Brooklyn. These havens are created due to the efforts of Bangladeshi Americans like Councilwoman Shahana Hanif, who has dedicated her career as a public servant to representing the people who are responsible for who she is today (Markowitz et al.).

Despite these connections, Saira finds herself torn—drawn to the comfort of shared language and food, but wary of the closeness that comes with tight-knit communities.

Still, Saira finds solace in her close friends, women who have been with her for the past decade. In Saira's story, her reliance on her close-knit community of friends who have become like family in the U.S. mirrors the survival strategies many immigrants adopt in an unfamiliar and sometimes isolating society. In fact, numerous studies have found that higher levels of loneliness exist in Western cultures (such as America) that promote individualism (Sharma).

In order to combat these feelings, Saira and the other women in this narrative openly share their lives with one another. Saira asserts, “If anything happens—bad things—sometimes we cannot share with our family members because family members will get worried. But you can share with a friend. Because they will give us a good solution or something else.” The bonds forged by Bangladeshi Americans mirror a broader experience shared by many first-generation immigrants across the U.S. A study by the College of William & Mary revealed that these newcomers often find themselves longing for the deep-rooted sense of community they left behind—where neighbors felt like extended family and lives were lived openly, not tucked behind closed doors. In contrast, the Western emphasis on privacy can feel cold and distant, leaving many yearning for the warmth of casual visits, shared meals, and unspoken understanding (Sharma). The study went on to reveal that because first-generation immigrants are more likely to seek that active connection, they experience “less depression, less anxiety, and greater positive well-being” (Sharma).

These informal friendships turned into found families are what supports immigrant communities. It's not just the women who bond either; it's their husbands who find work together, children who attend school together, elderly family members who spend their twilight years in the presence of others who remember the glory days. Bangladeshi immigrants may not have a choice when it comes to leaving. Saira herself knows this story all too well. But it is important to understand why people continue to leave. Crumbling infrastructure, rudderless government, and limited opportunities are the largest reasons why Bangladeshi people continue to move to America. In the end, Saira’s story is one of endurance. Like so many immigrants, she carries with her the memory of loss, the burden of sacrifice, and the hope of building something better. The journey may be isolating, but what drives it — love for family, the pursuit of opportunity, and the search for safety — is what connects her to millions of others who’ve made the same choice.