When Rafiha Kamal thinks about moving to Buffalo, she doesn’t remember it as a brave decision.
She remembers being unhappy.
Rafiha was born and raised in Brooklyn, surrounded by family and friends. She was an only child, but she wasn’t isolated. Her friends were close to her, and many remain part of her life. She still goes back to Brooklyn to spend time with them.
Her family is Bangladeshi. Growing up in the United States, her immediate family was mostly her parents, but she was surrounded by a larger Bengali community. She grew up speaking Bengali at home and learning the culture and traditions of her parents.
Then, in high school, things changed. Rafiha moved to Virginia for a year during her sophomore year and eventually finished high school in Buffalo. It was the middle of the COVID pandemic. She was an only child in a new place, surrounded by people she didn’t know.
“It was hard,” she says.
She felt secluded. There was a period when she was really sad.
Then she got her first job at Tim Hortons. The job helped. It gave her somewhere to go and people to interact with. It was one of the first things that began pulling her out of the isolation she was feeling.
Today, Rafiha still lives with her parents. She is studying communications at Buffalo State University and has a minor in criminal justice.
Buffalo has grown on her. Exploring different environments has helped her get out of the bubble she knew in Brooklyn. Looking back, she recognizes that the move gave her opportunities she would not necessarily have had if she had stayed home.
“I wouldn’t have had the challenges,” she remarks, “and I wouldn’t be able to do the things that I’m doing now.”
One of those things is the amount of work experience she has gained. Jobs, she points out, are more limited in New York City.
“I think my friends, they would never move out of the city because they’re so used to it.”
Buffalo seems small to them. Small enough that some of them would simply refuse to move there.
“When you grow up always being surrounded by the same environment,” ponders Rafiha, “they would not even consider it.”
Rafiha understands that reaction because she once felt the same way. She missed the city, and still does. But leaving it changed her.
At 22, she is still figuring out what comes next. She has worked in retail, healthcare, beauty, and event-related jobs. She interned in Congressman Tim Kennedy’s office. She is interested in a variety of communications fields within government and criminal investigations roles, along with wedding coordination.
She isn’t worried about having one answer yet.
I am allowing myself space to explore my major.
Rafiha Kamal
Her mother had always told her that people go into college and change their minds. It was sent as a warning to pick her major carefully, but the idea stayed with Rafiha. It gave her permission, in her own mind, to reconsider what she wanted.
“Maybe it is because I have stepped into different fields, taking the time to figure out what I like,” she says. “I don’t want to just do something that someone wants me to.”
She still feels lost and confused sometimes. But she knows she wants to enjoy what she does.
Between Brooklyn and Buffalo
The move from Brooklyn to Buffalo was only one transition Rafiha has had to navigate. She has also spent much of her life between the culture of her parents and the culture surrounding her. She has never been to Bangladesh, but she is fluent in the language and understands the traditions she grew up with.
“My parents are very rooted,” notes Rafiha.
That rootedness is important to her. It is also complicated. Some Bengali traditions clash with the values she has encountered growing up in America. She has had to find a balance between what her parents expect and what she wants for herself.
“I want to make them happy,” she explains. “It’s not easy.”
Sometimes her parents don’t explain their expectations. She simply understands that certain things matter to them. It can feel like living “in between,” explains Rafiha, trying to satisfy everyone.
One example is social life. Growing up in America, she has developed a strong sense that people should be able to live their own lives. But within Bengali culture, reputation can carry more weight. That has played a significant role in her life and in the way she thinks about her choices.
Rafiha has found that many people in her generation from the same background connect with that experience. There is a large Bengali community around her, and social media has allowed her to connect with others who understand what it is like to grow up between cultures.
Her fluency in Bengali has also become useful in her working life. When she worked at a dental office, she could communicate with Bengali-speaking patients. The language she learned at home became a practical way of helping someone feel comfortable. That has happened in other jobs, too. Helping people has become a recurring theme in the way Kamal thinks about work.
The Common Thread
Her résumé doesn’t immediately reveal what connects her different jobs. Retail. Dental assisting. Beauty. Event coordination. Politics.
For her, the connection is simple.
“I think it’s the client interaction,” she says.
Retail and dental assisting may seem like very different jobs, but for her, the important part is the same: interacting with people, communicating and trying to understand them.
“You have to take time and have patience.”
She learns about people’s days, even when what they are talking about has nothing to do with the immediate reason they are there. At the dental office, for example, the conversation didn’t always stay focused on dental concerns. A customer may be having a difficult day. A patient may be worried about something that has nothing to do with the reason they came into the office.
“You may not know about the things people are carrying,” she ponders. “A lot of people just need a friendly face.”
That idea has stayed with her as she thinks about what kind of work she wants. She doesn’t measure success by the size of the office or the prestige of the title.
“Maybe success doesn’t always have to be about climbing the corporate ladder,” she says. “I would rather be out there working with people and having an impact on them. I’ve always had that mindset.”
That preference has influenced the kinds of work she is willing to consider, and it also helps explain her interest in criminal justice.
Finding a Direction
Rafiha points out that criminal justice doesn’t necessarily mean becoming a police officer or investigator. She could work in a government agency, or in a communications role within the FBI or a police department.
“You may not think about that,” she points out. “There are communications departments everywhere.”
At the same time, she is interested in wedding coordination. She was inspired by people she grew up around who work in the wedding industry, and the idea started to click.
“I don’t have that same passion for photography as they do,” she says. “ But I do enjoy the planning part. I could be the coordinator.”
For now, she is giving herself room to explore. College has given her a place to do that, but so have her jobs. Each has offered another way of seeing what she likes and what she doesn’t. She isn’t looking for a career simply because it sounds impressive. She wants to know what it feels like to actually do the work.
“I am open to the future,” she exclaims with confidence.
Seeing Government From the Inside
Last year, Rafiha interned in Congressman Tim Kennedy’s office.
She went into the experience optimistic about public service. What she encountered was more complicated. People called the office because they needed help. She could listen, field calls and direct people toward resources. But sometimes the available resources weren’t enough. There were limits to what the office could do.
“At times, I felt like I couldn’t really help.”
Sometimes there were dead ends. The experience gave her a clearer picture of what public service looks like from the other side of the phone. People come to government with problems. The people answering the phones may want to help, but they cannot always solve the problem. She likes the directness of working with people. She wants to be involved rather than simply passing someone along.
Becoming More Comfortable With Her Own Voice
A public speaking class she took last semester helped her become more comfortable with that part of herself.
It wasn’t her first public speaking class, but Rafiha feels that the past few years have changed how open she is.
She is more comfortable talking about her culture, her personal life and her experiences with people on campus. She is also more willing to share things she wouldn’t have talked about before, including personal connections and other parts of her life that can feel private.
I don’t like to be alone. But I can be alone.
Rafiha Kamal
The class opened her mind, and made her more comfortable talking about almost anything without feeling embarrassed. That is a change from the young woman who arrived in Buffalo during the pandemic feeling secluded and alone. She is now more willing to let people know who she is. She has learned that she likes being around people. She has also learned something else.
What Comes Next
Rafiha is still working her way through Buffalo State. Graduation is taking a little longer than she would have liked.
“But I am getting through it,” she says.
She has about three semesters left. After that, there will be another decision. Government or law enforcement. Communications. Wedding coordination. Or something else she hasn’t encountered yet.
She doesn’t know.
Rafiha doesn’t know whether Buffalo will ultimately be home, either.
“I don’t know if I will move back to Brooklyn,” she says. “I’m still figuring out.”
She remains open to it if the right opportunity comes along in the New York City area.
“I won’t move too far away.”
That uncertainty feels different now than it did when she first arrived in Buffalo. Back then, she wanted the city she had left. Now she can imagine more than one possibility.
If Rafiha had to erase her résumé and explain herself through one story, she says it would be the story of moving to Buffalo. She remembers arriving without the community she had known in Brooklyn. “I felt like it was me against the world.” But she stayed. She worked. She went to school. She met people. She developed relationships. “I’ve built my own life here in Buffalo.”
That life is still closely connected to her family. She lives with her parents. Her financial circumstances mean that independence does not look exactly the way it might for someone else her age. But she has begun making decisions about who she wants to become.
When asked what she would tell her 18-year-old self, her answer is simple.
“It’s okay to not have everything figured out. It gets better.”
She remembers how difficult that time was.
“You are going to get through this.”
She already has.
Afterword
There is a reason I believe it is worth talking with young people who are just beginning their careers. An interview can give someone a rare space to practice putting their ideas into words, to hear themselves think, and to begin discerning what they actually believe and want. That kind of conversation is valuable in itself. I also believe that everyone has a story worth telling, and that every person brings ideas and perspectives that can teach us something. College students are sometimes overlooked because they are still in college, as though their ideas will become meaningful only after they have graduated and accumulated a certain number of years on a résumé. I think that is narrow-minded, and it is also a missed opportunity. Young people are often less jaded, more curious, and more willing to question assumptions, including their own. They have not yet settled into all the answers. That uncertainty can be a strength. Sometimes the most interesting conversations begin with someone who is still figuring things out.
George Cassidy Payne is a journalist, essayist, poet and philosopher based in Rochester, New York. His writing explores the places where psychology, spirituality, culture, community and the natural world meet. He has written for local and national publications and is the founder of The Loom: Experiments in Collaborative Storycrafting, an interview project devoted to listening closely to people’s stories. He holds two master’s degrees in the humanities and has taught philosophy and humanities at the college level for more than a decade.