Sumrin Kalia finds a world of knowledge in her journey to the United States

IHH Board Member Sumrin Kalia dreamed of studying in the United States ever since her parents emigrated from Pakistan around 2004-2005. Dissatisfied with Pakistan’s governance, Kalia craved outside knowledge. She wanted to understand how different political systems work and why some societies function better than others. Then, she thought, she might be able to improve lives in Pakistan.

She’d spent years working toward this goal, but ultimately, a single visa officer at the U.S. Embassy in Karachi determined that Kalia would not pursue her PhD at the University of Texas in Dallas. Kalia has since earned a PhD in Germany and is now a Political Sociologist and a legal permanent resident of the U.S., but it wasn’t a straight or easy path.

Here is Kalia’s story in her own words.

On a warm summer afternoon in 2013, I stepped out of the U.S. Embassy in Karachi, Pakistan, holding the dreaded pink slip. Somewhat dazed, I walked slowly toward my car, my steps heavier than usual. After a year of applications, the University of Texas at Dallas had accepted me into its PhD program, with funding. But the visa officer believed I intended to immigrate only because my parents and siblings were already living in Dallas. Within minutes, my dream of getting a higher education in the U.S. were shattered.

I was born in Karachi, Pakistan, in 1979.

When I was eighteen, my parents decided that I should marry, a path that was common for girls in my extended family.

There was a system back then; now things are changing. A woman is introduced to a potential marriage partner. This is followed by an approximately six-month engagement, during which the girl visits her in-laws every month to get acquainted. The more I visited them, the more I knew it wouldn’t work out. I kept telling them it wasn’t going to work, but they didn’t listen. With little room to challenge the decision, I came to terms with it.

Marriage was followed by children, and soon I became a mother of four.

For thirteen years, I stayed at home raising my children. But the desire to become more than a mother never disappeared.

Despite significant social and cultural barriers, Kalia completed an undergraduate degree, and then a master’s degree, at a public university in Karachi. As she juggled motherhood with her studies, she fielded questions like, “Why do you need to study? Your job is to raise kids.”

In Pakistan, Kalia didn’t have access to academic journals. Even now, people at the University of Karachi don’t have access to academic journals.

Kalia eventually went to the United Kingdom for another master’s degree and later to Germany, where she completed her PhD. Meanwhile, she patiently waited for an immigration petition sponsored by her mother to move through the U.S. system. While she waited—family-based immigration to the United States can take many years—Germany came to feel like a second home.

In 2024, after transferring her U.S. immigration case to Germany, the application finally became current. Kalia and her four children, now adults, became legal permanent residents of the United States. More than a decade after her first attempt to study in America, she could finally pursue the academic opportunities that had first brought her to the country’s doorstep.

Thirteen years after receiving that pink slip, Kalia reflects on her journey.

Over the past two years, I have had academic fellowships at the University of Texas at Austin and Yale University. This journey has made me something of a bridge between Asia, Europe, and the United States, carrying ideas and ways of seeing from one society into another.

Living in Germany taught me how to separate trash and to appreciate the security created by strong public institutions and social protections. And I love the public transport system across Europe. The United States inspires me with its culture of entrepreneurship, its openness to reinvention, and its cheerful “y’all’s.” Pakistan is more traditional. In Pakistan, we have food everywhere. Even when we go to protest, we have food. The idea is to put effort into cooking and sharing. Each society has something to teach the others.

My own experience has particularly shaped how I understand American immigration. I did not come to the United States alone. I was accompanied by my four young adults, each now preparing to contribute to the country in a different way: one as a doctor, another as a data analyst, another in marketing, and another as a software engineer. For me, this is one of the great strengths of family-based immigration. Families do not simply reunite; they create networks of support that allow new generations to study, work, take risks, and contribute to the society that receives them.

In 2025, when I held my grandchild, born on American soil, for the first time, I felt that I had finally arrived. Looking at him, I thought of the journey that had brought me there: crossing countries, packing bags every few years, changing apartments, and navigating unfamiliar bureaucracies. What had once felt like a life of constant movement had gradually become a life of carrying ideas, experiences, and ways of seeing across borders.

Now three generations of my family are tied to America, each shaped by crossing cultures rather than leaving one behind. For me, becoming American does not mean giving up Pakistan, the United Kingdom, or Germany. It means adding another home and carrying the best of each place into the next generation.

We talk about diversity quite a lot. People think, and this is usually a hypothetical question: Is diversity always good in all contexts?

I would say that immigrants—people like me—bring diversity. It’s important because it helps you grow. Not just as a country or community, but as an individual. When you sit next to someone with different life experiences, you always learn something. It really breaks this tunnel vision we sometimes get.

It’s good for personal well-being too. When we hear stories of people overcoming different challenges, we learn that we can do it too. If it’s possible for that person, it can be possible for me too.

Having migrants and people around you who have had different experiences and overcome different kinds of challenges supports your personal growth because they show you how to overcome them. Their lives prove it’s possible. So if, God forbid, a challenge like that comes your way, you’ll know how to tackle it.