For many international and immigrant students at Flintridge Sacred Heart, success began long before a transcript or a college list. It began in the difficult decisions families made before leaving home for the possibility of something better. 

There are stories of parents who sacrificed so much for the relocation of their children, and of professionals who exchanged professional status or stability. For many students at FSHA, success first means something simple, but heavy. Make the sacrifice worth it. 

For senior Sucheng Zheng ‘26, that weight traveled from across the Pacific from East China. She came to the United States after middle school, repeating a year to adjust to a new language and academic system. In China, she explains, advancement often depends on a single standardized exam. One test capable of determining a student’s education trajectory. Her parents, both in business, did not want her future to hinge on a single score. They wanted something more for her. 

“They didn’t want me to only know how to study,” she says. “They wanted me to explore.”

Still, distance has its own pressures. Boarding tuition, separation from family, and the scale of the move tends to create quiet expectations. 

“To make my journey feel worth it,” she reflects, “I want to do something further…something bigger.” 

Sophomore Evelyn Ding ‘28 describes a similar inheritance. She comes from the Jiangxi province in Southeast China, where success had a clear and rigid definition: admission into a highly selective university, followed by financial security and social status. Her school days used to stretch before 8 a.m. after 10 p.m, structured around relentless preparation for college entrance exams. 

When she arrived at FSHA, her first time leaving China, that definition followed her. 

“If I came to the U.S. but didn’t get into a better college than I could have in China, then it’s not worth it,” she admits. 

For many immigrant and international students, college aspirations are not merely personal goals. They are extensions of risk. Success becomes intertwined with justification. 

Yet, over time, something shifts. 

Sucheng no longer describes success solely in terms of rankings or admission letters. Living abroad has clarified her sense of self, rather than diluting it. Holidays that once shaped her calendar pass without celebration in California. Food tastes different. Traditions are abbreviated. But, instead of minimizing her identity, she has grown more confident in it. 

“I’m more confident to say that I’m Chinese,” she explains. 

When asked what she would tell her freshman-year self, she pauses before answering simply: “You will be fine.” 

She now speaks about pursuing psychology or education; fields inspired by the American emphasis on critical thinking and perspective. Success, for her, has expanded. It means becoming capable of navigating two worlds, not abandoning one for the other. 

Evelyn, still finding her journey, has begun to experience this expansion as well. At FSHA, she encountered something unfamiliar: balance. Clubs, athletics, and conversations that require initiative rather than obedience. “Here, you become a fully developed person,” she says, “not someone just focused on academics,”

The anxiety has not disappeared, but the definition of achievement began to broaden. 

Across interviews, students describe similar changes, whether it’s speaking up in a second language, joining a club outside of their cultural comfort zone or sharing parts of their background that once felt too different or embarrassing to explain. Academic excellence remains important, but is no longer the sole measure of worth. 

In challenging both the stereotype of the disengaged international student and the “model minority” expectation that reduces them to GPAs, immigrant students are redefining success as integration rather than assimilation. 

This evolution, however, is not just limited to students. 

Dr. Kim, a history teacher at FSHA, begins her story decades earlier in Seoul, South Korea. In the 1970s, her parents left her in her grandmother’s care while they moved to Chicago to establish themselves. Her father, once an accountant, became a mechanic. Her mother, already a nurse, retrained to work as a registered nurse in the United States. They returned for Dr. Kim when she was five. 

By then, the definition of success had already been shaped by sacrifice: stability, upward mobility, and opportunity. 

As the oldest sibling, she ended up internalizing the implicit expectations from her family. She signed permission slips, helped manage the household, and modeled what academic integrity looked like. Her parents never outwardly demanded she become a doctor, but the pressure operated as an undercurrent. At UCLA, she began as a pre-med student, following what felt like the logical path of achievement. 

But fulfillment told a different story. 

After taking the MCAT and applying to medical school, she realized she did not want the life she was preparing for. She pivoted to history, eventually earning a PhD and choosing to teach. 

That decision marked a turning point. Success was no longer synonymous with prestige. It became tied to intellectual passion, meaningful work, and eventually, balance. Now, as an educator and parent, Dr. Kim sees how pressure has intensified in today’s high school culture. Social media amplifies comparison. Resumes are curated from freshman year. Students feel that every activity must serve a future application. 

Yet in her own home, she and her husband resist replicating the hyper-monitoring culture they grew up with. If they ever have a concern regarding their son, they pause rather than panic. 

“We have a happy kid,” she says. “He’s confident and well-adjusted.” 

For her, that signals success. 

The first generation sacrifices for survival. The second strives for achievement. The next begins to ask, achievement for what?

At FSHA, that question resonates deeply. Immigrant students are not abandoning their families’ histories, nor are they dismissing ambition. Instead, they are expanding it. Success includes mental health, belonging, creativity, and agency. It includes honoring sacrifice without being defined entirely by it. 

The big move to the U.S. still remains a part of their story, but that’s not where their identity as an immigrant ends. 

On the Hill, success is becoming less about proving worth and more about choosing meaning; not just making the journey worthwhile, but making it their own.