I was born in 1985 in a small nursing home in Tilak Nagar, New Delhi, India—at 6.5 kilograms, the heaviest baby the town had ever recorded. My mother named me Jennifer, a name she chose with purpose. She dreamed of bringing me and my three older sisters to America to pursue the promise of a better life.

That dream brought us to California in 1987, just before my second birthday. Not long after, my parents parted ways, and my mom was left to raise four daughters on her own—three of us still children, and the eldest just 18. What followed was a childhood defined not by lack, but by resilience.

 We didn’t have much, but we had each other—and the women who raised me were nothing short of extraordinary. I was raised entirely by women: fierce, capable, self-reliant. We didn’t wait for someone else to show up. We did what needed to be done. From mowing lawns to moving furniture, from running the register at the family liquor store to repairing broken appliances—we figured it out, together.

Jenn’s Birth Certificate

Jenn in India in 1986

Jenn sitting atop the first family car in 1987

My mother had been a medical student in India. But in America, she worked 12–16 hour days at her father’s liquor store just to keep us afloat. She endured armed robberies, relentless pressure, and long stretches without rest—but she never wavered. When justice needed to be served, she testified. When something broke, she fixed it. She was both mother and father to us. Everything I know about strength, courage, and persistence, I learned from watching her fight for our future.

By age 7, I was working at the store alongside my family—bagging ice, restocking coolers, breaking down boxes, washing windows. Hiring help wasn’t an option. We lived frugally, relying on food stamps, thrift stores, and garage sales to make ends meet. One can of Pepsi a day was our luxury. Eating out was reserved for rare treats—and always off the dollar menu.

But we climbed.

Jenn working with her mom at their family business

Through grit, sacrifice, and unwavering focus, my family eventually bought our first home in Yuba City in 2000. Up until then, we had moved nearly ten times—Fresno, Seattle, Sacramento, Marysville—wherever opportunity, or necessity, took us. I attended four different elementary schools, but finally got to experience stability in middle and high school after we put down roots in Yuba City. 

That journey—from immigrant beginnings to rooted resilience—is the foundation I stand on today. It taught me to listen before I speak, work before I rest, and lead not with entitlement, but with earned perspective.

Because I’ve lived the reality that too many still face—one paycheck away, one break away, from stability or struggle. And I believe the people who’ve had to build their lives from scratch are exactly the ones we need leading the systems that so often forget them.

Jenn’s family of all women in 2000