For many of us this site is a place where we can explore the desi experience, not just as it plays out in news or culture, but also on a personal level. As a community we are coherent but not cohesive, united by a diasporic experience but keen to its many variations. What it means to be desi is still very much under negotiation, which is good: it means that we haven’t congealed, nor been taken over by ideological disputes or anointed leaders. This, combined with tools like the Internet which previous diasporas did not enjoy, has helped to keep the conversation open, generally productive, and most important of all, conducive to sharing personal experience.
For some of us, the idea of being desi comes with self-questioning built in, because we are of mixed race and ethnicity, products of unions where one partner was desi, the other not. I know there are a lot of people who read this site who belong to this group, and many more who are having, or are likely to have, mixed children. Among the regulars here who identify as both mixed and desi, the most outspoken in the past year have been DesiDancer and myself in the U.S. as well as Bong Breaker in the U.K.
Recently DesiDancer (portrayed here as a young macaca) and I began a conversation that aims to explore the experience of being a mixed desi in America today. It is also a blog experiment: A different format than usual, and a new way of engaging the many people here who have been so generous and thoughtful in sharing their stories. We are corresponding by IM and editing the transcripts for coherence and pace. And by making it a series, we can absorb your responses to each instalment as we prepare the next.
Today, in “Gettin’ Down with the Brown,” we talk about how we came to identify as desi when we had the choice of not doing so. Later we’ll discuss the ways we — and others — live, deploy, engage our “desi” and “mixed” identities in the world today. Whether you are mixed yourself, or the (potential) parent of mixed kids, or neither, your responses will help shape the discussion. (You may also share thoughts in confidence with either of us.)
So, here goes:DesiDancer: “Dude, you look so exotic… what are you?”
Siddhartha: Exotic, eh? Like you, I’m mixed. My dad is Bengali, and my mother is Jewish American. That’s why I am so “fair.” My aunties in Calcutta always liked my skin color, the fact that it was achieved through miscegenation didn’t appear to concern them.
DesiDancer: Do you know of any other mixed marriages in your family?
Siddhartha: My uncle married a westerner. He is my dadÂ’s only sibling, and older by a few years. He married an Italian woman. It was a little complicated for them, in terms of approval and how they handled it, and my grandmother wasnÂ’t too thrilled. But it ended up paving the way for my parentsÂ’ marriage. Beyond that, I think pretty much everyone else in my Indian family married Indian. I have a female cousin who married a guy who is half-Indian, half-German. They live in Delhi. What about you and your family?
DesiDancer: My dadÂ’s uncle came to the US, several years before Dad did. My uncle met an American woman — I believe at the university — and they got married a few years before my Dad came over. Again, it sort of paved the way for my Dad because when my parents got married it wasnÂ’t something totally new. I donÂ’t know how supportive or unsupportive my DadÂ’s family was… they were always fantastic to me, but IÂ’d be naive if I didnÂ’t suspect there was some talk behind my parentsÂ’ backs. IÂ’m sure it wasnÂ’t easy for them, but then again we lived here, and the family lived in India. As for my generation of the family, weÂ’ll see how it plays out — the cousins in India are all marrying Indian, but the cousins here seem to have a wider perspective when it comes to dating.
Siddhartha: ThatÂ’s an interesting similarity. How big an (Indian) family do you have here in the U.S.? I just have my sister — there are some more distant cousins but IÂ’m not really in touch with them. I guess I should ask how big your MomÂ’s family is in the U.S. as well, since I think you told me your mom was not originally American, but naturalized?
DesiDancer: Up until a few years ago, I thought the only family here from DadÂ’s side was us, and the aforementioned uncleÂ’s family. A few months after I went to India in 2002, I got an email from one of my uncles there. His English is a bit disjointed, so all I could understand was that someone in our family was coming to the US… or something like that. Turns out my dadÂ’s cousin was living in the US, with her family, and theyÂ’d been here for YEARS! So we reconnected, and they introduced me to the rest of the family. Technically all of my cousins here are from my DadÂ’s cousinÂ’s husbandÂ’s side (does that make sense?) but it doesnÂ’t really matter to any of us — weÂ’re more like siblings than anything else. So now I think I could count about 8 cousins, in the rediscovered family, and 3 sets of aunts and uncles. We lost our grandfather last year, but there were 4 generations living here — and unbeknownst to me. My momÂ’s family is in Canada and some are in the US, but thereÂ’s such a huge age gap between me and my cousins on that side… I think itÂ’s 14 years between me and the next oldest (not counting my brother and sister, of course). How about you — is there a lot of family from your momÂ’s side here?
Siddhartha: There is, but IÂ’m not close to that many of them. My cousins are a lot younger than me. A similar situation. Then you get to second cousins and whatnot. I guess what this makes me realize is that IÂ’ve always lived mixedness my own way, by improvisation; I was never part of a “mixed” self-identified community, let alone one with my particular mix. All this being underscored by the fact that I spent most of my childhood years in a third country that was neither my momÂ’s nor my dadÂ’s — France — and further, that I am a bit older than the big wave of desi Americans, since I was born in 1967. So itÂ’s always been a bit of a solo thing, shared only by my sister.
DesiDancer: I was actually just going to ask you that: how did you and your sister identify with your heritage? My brother and sister donÂ’t seem to identify as “mixed” or “Indian”… and itÂ’s never really something weÂ’ve had much dialogue about. I think part of it may be the age differences, and part of it I think might be because I went to India when I was 2, whereas they never went… I wonder if somehow it made such an impression on me that I felt somehow more impelled to get down with my brownÂ…
Siddhartha: Yes, you do seem to be more “down with your brown” than I think I am. But then again, we know each other from SM, which is a place where people are doing just that, so itÂ’s hard to judge. But… I think weÂ’ve always thought of ourselves as Indian, or at least semi-Indian. We too both got to go to India at a young age, I was 6 the first time I went, and she was 1 or 2 the first time she did. On the other hand, we didnÂ’t have any kind of Indian community around us outside of India. We just had what came through my parents, which was my dadÂ’s Hindustani classical music collection, my momÂ’s immersion in learning to cook Indian food, my dadÂ’s general politics and, dare I say, patriotism (he still has just his Indian passport to this day), and the trips back. So there are tons of things I had no exposure to whatsoever. To this day I donÂ’t know a damn thing about Bollywood, or bhangra for that matter.
DesiDancer: For me, all of the brownness was a relatively recent discovery, in my mid-20s or so. I mean, we were aware that we were brown, but growing up in the Midwest, in the 70s and 80s… there wasnÂ’t any Indian community for us to interact with. We had a few 78 records that my Dad had brought over (kidsÂ’ songs and stuff), but for the most part I think the climate when my dad came to the US was more to assimilate than to hold onto their native cultures. Once in a while heÂ’d hit up the Indian grocery and go on a cooking spree, so we knew what dosa and pakoras and stuff were, but we didnÂ’t learn Hindi or grow up watching desi movies, or even celebrating the holidays. I knew what Diwali and Holi were… but we didnÂ’t do anything about it. For years my buas sent rakhi to my dad, airmail. My sister and I would swipe them because they were such pretty bracelets, but we never bought rakhi for our brother.
Siddhartha: So, if you didn’t grow up self-consciously Indian, how would you describe the cultural atmosphere in your home growing up? And how did the notion of brownness—or non-whiteness—come into play?
DesiDancer: Ooh, good question. Because there was more of my momÂ’s family around than dadÂ’s, we celebrated all the usual—Xmas, Easter, Thanksgiving. We were around my maternal grandparents and aunts/uncles a lot more, so we just sort of did what they did. I think my dadÂ’s family was maybe out-of-sight-out-of-mind? We had picture books on India, some Indian art around the house, and my mom even tried to get us childrenÂ’s books with Indian protagonists… But generally speaking we were raised in an Americanized household, for the most part. While thereÂ’s no denying that the 3 of us are brown (one of these things is not like the other) it wasnÂ’t really a factor for us in shaping our childhood identities. Sure you get some idiot in school who wants to know your story, and then either asks if your dad wears a towel on his head, or your mom wears a dot… or they pat their hand over their mouth and do the idiotic rain dance (not that kind of Indian, yo!)… But we didnÂ’t really dwell on it much.
Siddhartha: How about the name thing. You and I both have Indian names. My sister does as well and I imagine your siblings too? Did that get you questions about your origins, and how did you relate to your name as a marker of your identity?
DesiDancer: We all have Indian first names and Angrezi middle names. Which seems to suggest that at the time, my parents were very much about the biculturalism. The name was both a badge and a curse. Obviously I look sort of Indian, so it seemed to “match” that I had an Indian name. But oh my god the teachers in school just could not seem to get the hang of my name! I got called everything, all sorts of mutations and mispronunciations. I think around 7th grade, when kids start to get really vicious, and we all just really want to fit in and conceal our awkwardness I started asking people to call me an Americanized nickname version of my name (Re)… it just seemed easier because at that age I really didnÂ’t want to get into a diction lesson every time they called roll in school. It seemed to stick well because I was a tomboy. But my family always called me by my given name. How about for you? Your name was probably much more of a challenge than mine.
Siddhartha: True dat. I actually don’t have a middle name. I guess my name was a challenge but growing up in France, it didn’t seem to bother my friends and my teachers. They used my full name, just pronounced it as if it were a French name with no effort to learn the “authentic” pronunciation. When I came back to the U.S. for college, that’s when two things happened: 1) Some people became interested in the “authentic” pronunciation, but also 2) Everyone else started calling me Sid.
DesiDancer: Blame “Dil Chahta Hai.” Do you not like “Sid”?
Siddhartha: IÂ’ve written on Sepia before about my struggles with “Sid” or “Sidd” — how I eventually gave into it, used it myself, and it took me years to realize that I could do something about it. I reclaimed it first in my professional life, and then eventually I got everyone in my world to revert to my full name. I sent an email to all my friends, and I got lots of support, as well as other people testifying about their own name issues. Interestingly, after I wrote my post, on that thread everyone called me by my full name, and since then all these people have been using Sid! But itÂ’s one of those things, once youÂ’ve made the effort to reclaim your name, it no longer matters that much what people call you. ItÂ’s no longer that big a deal.
DesiDancer: True. I reverted back to my full name, when I moved to NYC. I figured with a city as diverse as NYC, I wasnÂ’t going to have the freakiest name, so it wasnÂ’t unreasonable to expect people to pronounce it correctly. I still have some girlfriends who call me Re. But itÂ’s contextual — itÂ’s how we know each other — so it doesnÂ’t bother me, but even they try to switch it up. But when I meet new people, I use my full name. I have a friend who was nicknamed “Rick” for years upon years, and heÂ’s tried reclaiming “Rakesh” for at least the last 2 years. It wonÂ’t stick, because all his boyz always call him Rick and refuse to switch. ItÂ’s probably a bit frustrating…
Siddhartha: I bet. If he really wants to switch and his boys wonÂ’t let him, theyÂ’re jerks. So, letÂ’s talk a bit about the process of getting down with the brown. Can you identify the key moments/stages for you?
DesiDancer: Well, I always kind of had the “pull” from India. I donÂ’t know if itÂ’s because IÂ’m the oldest, because IÂ’m a girl, or because I went there when I was young enough to have retained impressions of the trip. And I can see photos of myself in India… I remember people or things… so I always asked about India as a kid, and wanted to go back. But after junior high school (and the great name change) I didnÂ’t really actively pursue the topic much. It was in the back of my mind, but I was probably more concerned with fitting in than pushing the issue…
Siddhartha: So, did things start to happen in college?
DesiDancer: After. My big a-ha moment, as Oprah likes to call them, was around 2001. I went to visit my DadÂ’s uncle & aunt and we were watching a home movie of uncleÂ’s last trip to India. He had gone to a wedding and had run into one of my DadÂ’s younger brothers. So we were watching this tape and my chacha came on screen… My DadÂ’s aunt asked me, “When was the last time you went to India?” and I told her, when I was 2… She immediately stomped her foot and directed her husband to take me to India that fall — he was planning on going back anyway. It was kind of the green light I needed to jump into the discovery of brownness. It wasnÂ’t that it was off-limits or a no-no topic in our house, but we were told 100 times over that we werenÂ’t going to visit India, ever. So I forgot about it as a possibility until that conversation with my dadÂ’s aunt & uncle. I spent the next 8 months trying to contact family in India.
We hadnÂ’t really kept in touch with people there, but my DadÂ’s uncle found the address for our family house in Dehradun, so we sent an aerogram over and waited to see if anybody wrote back. My Chacha still lives in my DadajiÂ’s house, and so he emailed us both back, and also sent me the email addresses for my cousins. When I went to India at 2, I only had one cousin who is 4 months younger than I am. Since then, I have 10 cousins, all slightly younger than me (20-29) and I had no idea! I started emailing with a few of them, and it was really the coolest, most welcoming experience. My cousins have a lot to do with why IÂ’m so fond of my family and of India. They were so enthusiastic and awesome — we emailed all the time, back and forth, and right around then IÂ’d started trying to watch Bollywood movies (I think Lagaan and Monsoon Wedding had just come out, and I was SO thrilled to see an entire movie with brown people in it) and learn some Hindi. So even before I went to India, IÂ’d started bonding with my cousins over email. WeÂ’d send pictures to each other, my one cousin is an artist so she scanned in some of her work and emailed it to me, weÂ’d argue over SRK and Hrithik, and because they were so open with me, it was really easy to ask my most ridiculous questions and not feel stupid for it.
And when I did go to India that fall, it was the most amazing thing — despite having never met my cousins, I truly felt like we werenÂ’t meeting as strangers because weÂ’d bonded so much before I got there. IÂ’d tried to learn some Hindi, and they were great about teaching me the slang or not making fun of my crappy grammar, and we just had the best month together! It was almost as if weÂ’d grown up together… and because of that weÂ’ve been able to keep in touch for the last four years, despite some of us getting married, and the fact that I havenÂ’t been back yet… The two girls, are really special to me, because theyÂ’re only a couple years younger than I am. For a girl to have an older sister is amazing, and so I take my role as such VERY seriously. I would do anything for those girls — I was a mess during the Mumbai explosions because I couldnÂ’t reach one of them, in Mumbai. Despite the distance and weird circumstances, IÂ’m closer to them than I am to my brother and sister. So I think a lot of my affection for the desh has to do with the wonderful openhearted love I got from my own cousins. Conversely, I had a chachaji call me a half-blooded witch, so I guess it runs the entire spectrumÂ…
So that was that major turning point in my life. Despite the fact that my dad lost touch with his family and didnÂ’t have any interest in rekindling it, he was very supportive of my trip to India. One of my buas came over for my shaadi, and to see her and my Dad face to face for the first time in over 25 years was just emotionally overpowering. It was the best wedding present ever. Ironically, the Bollywood movies that I studied in preparation for my trip got me hooked. Like crack. I canÂ’t stop watching them, even the really crappy ones… and the dances really got me! ItÂ’s been a really satisfying and strange journey that my life has come full circle in a way. I always danced, since I was 3 or so; I rediscovered my family, which sort of led me to Bollywood, and now it seems the puzzle has come together with all the pieces—as I teach and perform my Bollywood dance. I gained a career, besides a family!
Siddhartha: This is a great story youÂ’ve shared with me.
DesiDancer: I get long-winded sometimes because I think itÂ’s such a cool story. I debate writing a book, but I think my dad would strangle me
Siddhartha: It really is a cool story. IÂ’m interested in a couple things you alluded to — the way your dad burned bridges, or perhaps I should say allowed bridges to fritter away, with India, and along the same lines what you said about being told over and over, growing up, that you wouldnÂ’t go to India. But it makes for a great story. You really got inspired and acted on it and followed through.
For me it was different because we went to India every 2-3 years. And we would go for long stays — three weeks to three months. We usually went to Calcutta, but later my dad, who is a scientist, began to work with colleagues in Bombay and so there were several trips there. In fact, my freshman year of college, my parents and sister spent the year in India and thatÂ’s where I visited them that Christmas. So by the time I was in college IÂ’d been to Calcutta and various places in Bengal, Bihar and Orissa, as well as Delhi and Bombay. At the same time, it was all in function of my family and my parentsÂ’ choices. In college, though, I took a number of classes that were directly about South Asia, or that were relevant (like development economics). I took a class about Hinduism, and one on Indo-Muslim culture.
DesiDancer: So did you grow up speaking Bengali? And, it seems that in your case the brownness was always in the background, but was it in college that you really began to explore that as part of your identity?
Siddhartha: ItÂ’s funny, I was just going to mention language. I grew up, I would say, knowing some Bengali, rather than actually speaking it. During time spent in Calcutta I would be able to say quite a lot, especially the phrases used to make requests of servants.
DesiDancer: Hahahahaha. Chai lao and all that?
Siddhartha: Yeah, all that. My command of kitchen words, foods and so forth, is OK. I probably have 200-300 words of Bangla… and maybe 50 of Hindi.
DesiDancer: We didnÂ’t learn Hindi at all. The only words I learned were the ones my dad peppered his speech with: junglee, bandar, memsahib, suar, courpi (with regard to our need to clip our fingernails)… strangely they were all sarcasticÂ…
Siddhartha: What is Mr. DDÂ’s ethnicity?
DesiDancer: Mr. DD is desi. He came over when he was 3, so he’s about as westernized as I am. A lot of that is why we are great together—he’s not stuck in the old-school mentality and he gets my unusual (bad Indian girl) personality, though he hates Bollywood movies and wants to reclaim control of our Netflix.
Siddhartha: You realize this is very interesting, right?
DesiDancer: He knows more about the culture and traditions, whereas IÂ’m more knowledgeable about the pop culture stuff and the current atmosphere in India.
Siddhartha: And you guys met after you began your re-encounter with India?
DesiDancer: Yeah 🙂
Siddhartha: IÂ’ve dated desi and non-desi of many types.
DesiDancer: It is an interesting twist that heÂ’s desi; I dated all non-desis prior to him.
Siddhartha: And my sisterÂ’s husband is non-desi but theyÂ’ve given their 1/4 desi daughter a desi name. Etc., etc. Lots of dimensions.
DesiDancer: Really? ThatÂ’s cool.
Siddhartha: Yeah. In a way this is where a lot of the SM readership may be interested because it raises issues so many of them are confronting, either as mixed people or as people likely to produce mixed kids. So I’d like to be able to tell people just enough about ourselves, but then really get into the psychological aspects, the tradeoffs, etc—so we can spark some conversation on it.
DesiDancer: Fer sure. So hereÂ’s a question: obviously for our parentsÂ’ generation, especially those in India and their elders, there seems to still be a lot of partition-era separatism with regards to Hindu/Muslim/Sikh/Jain etc., even straight/gay, or the ostracism of those in non-traditional pursuits career-wise or dating-wise. Do you think our generation is freed up from some of those prejudices? Does being mixed ingrain a sense of tolerance in us that maybe some others donÂ’t have? Like, I have Muslim friends, Christian-desi friends, Sikh friends, Jain friends, gay-desi friends, desis with crazy unusual careers, desis who married non-desis… And I know some auntie back home is clutching her chest over it, probably. 🙂 Or we can hit that one later.
Siddhartha: That’s a great question. I think we should hit that one later. Maybe we should finish up the whole “re-encounter with India” bit and pause for today; then on the next convo talk about living desiness as mixed people today.
Siddhartha, Desi Dancer, Branch Dravidian, Anjali, Meena (2), y’all–
Thanks for the in-depth, candid discussions.
I imagine that the prospect of inter-racial children melds with reality for many of us. From related research i’ve been doing this week, i’ve been struck by the thought that these children even though they may be our own are nevertheless in a sense transracial. Since neither parent is able to fully share the child’s “racial” category.
Perhaps i’m theorizing over much, but parental responsibility to an interacial-transracial child should then include a conscious strategy in preparing for society rather than the more typical “you’re like me, do as i do” approach–and also, would share some of the guidelines set out for tranracial adoptions. Information about transracial adoption here.
Wow, awesome post!Had to squeeze in some time to post a comment, even though I promised my husband there will be no Sepia Mutiny on weekends. 🙂 For me it is an amazing insight on the other dimension on being biracial. My mum is Italian/Indian, unfortunately raised in Apartheid South Africa, the political climate demanded she be removed from her parents (donÂ’t ask, long story) and placed in foster care, she grew up being totally ostracized, by everyone. In retaliation she became Super Indian. Dyed her hair black and always wore tinted glasses to hide her light eyes. She married my dad who is Indian/Nepalese and had my brother and I, then proceeded to turn us into Super Indians. In South Africa where 75% of the Indians barely know a single Indian word, my brother and I could read/write/speak Hindi,Gujrathi(SP?) and Punjabi, and letÂ’s not relive the kathak and sitar lessons.
My brother and I would never strike you as being anything but Indian; we both resemble our grandfather(100% guju). Just recently I was wondering, what happens if my kids suddenly turn out with my mumÂ’s light brown almost blond hair and my grandmaÂ’s grey eyes (plus my husband is really pale)! My mother in law is going to have a fit; I donÂ’t see that fitting in her perfect Guju Brahmin world. Oh well… I am sure it will be easier in the US with Sepia Mutiny paving the way/saving the day. 🙂
I wanted to make trips to Kerala, Sikkim and Rajasthan. Unfortunately I can’t because a. my vacation time falls in July(although probably from next year onwards there won’t even be summer holidays) and b. All my family lives in Chennai. Everytime I get the same ol’ excuse “it’s Monsoon season”, bah.
To those who are or may become the parents of mixed-desis (I haven’t ruled myself out completely from that latter possibility): You HAVE to take them to India often when they are kids, you HAVE to make it interesting for them, and, finances allowing, you HAVE to 5-star it all the way, at least when they’re young. Then they’ll (maybe) like India.
One other comment: Many people here have alluded to something that was a major factor for me as well when reaffirming ties to India; the role of cousins back in India. I went to India at age 16 after MANY MANY years, my cousins were virtual strangers to me. That trip could have made or broken our relationship forever…fortunately we had a blast together, became really close, and ever since then I’ve gone to India every 2-3 years, and have a blast everytime. My cousins are a big part of that. It’s nice knowing that even when I’m old, if I go back to India for a visit, there will be people there to welcome me.
Spending 4 weeks hanging around various houses & appartment complexes in Chennai is not really the ideal of a holiday in India.
To borrow a phrase though, Indians who ‘disassociate’ themselves from being India(especially if they are foreign bred and/or mixed race) are really no better or worse for doing just that. We all have a choice and just as someone chooses to return to their desi roots shouldn’t be slandered, so shouldn’t someone made to feel worse as a person because they don’t want to see themselves as ‘Indian’. My interest in India is admittedly more a touristy sort of attraction than any need to reconnect with my ‘roots’ because I simply don’t identify them as belonging to me. I guess there’s a bit of self-hating involved as well – I never particularly liked belonging to Tamil Nadu, of all states.
Thank you, DesiDancer and Siddharta, for this enlightening conversation.
I’d like to address an interesting dimension that Tarana presented above.
I’m actually a product of 2 brown parents, yet I too grapple with an identity crisis. I spent the first 10 years of my life in India and my adolescence and adulthood in the U.S. I guess I feel as if I am in limbo — I don’t feel that I am totally American, but neither do I feel completely Indian (Sesame Street and Thundercats are as foreign to me as Bollywood). This is further compounded by parents who themselves are trying to resolve the dissonance between western traditions and indian values (for example, in high school, my mom was excited to help me shop for my prom dress, but taking a date was out of the question).
Have other 1.5 generationers felt this way and what have you done to come to terms with this?
dude… every heard of lonely planet, footprint guides,… i would recommend you focus on tamil nadu, given your background … and step out. the rest might be a bit of a stretch.
start small – let’s say a solo trip from Chennai to Madurai to view the Meenakshi temples and back. the buses in tamil nadu are very efficient – the trains even more so. The restaurants are very sparkling clean – dont have to drink water – just drink rasam and filter coffee everywhere.
By the way, the rats at Eggmore station (what a cool name!) are huge. dont leave bags with foodstuffs unattended. Huge!!! bigger than housecats.
I think those are bandicoots.
Just a quick note to say that DD and I have been following the thread carefully as well as receiving some very interesting private messages from people who preferred to keep their comments confidential. You can be sure that all of this will influence the next instalment! Much respect to everyone. OK, carry on…
well.. bandicoot… a cute name for a rather fierce looking rodent… and they’re huge… i needed a changge of undies when i saw them creeping over the rails. i hope this is not influencing your thinking meena.
if you believe that travel is the goal, the destination the means to the end – you will never be disappointed whatever track you choose to step out.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bandicoot_Rat
Dude…I am 19, not 37. The parents won’t even let me step out of the appartment complex on my own in Chennai, and to be honest I don’t even want to – too afraid of being felt up or groped. So forget about the solo trip already.
fact that a lot of universities have now implemented a dress code(of course only applicable to girls) of traditional salwar kameez. Now you tell me if there isn’t some truth to my statement.u
Meena,
As you are a young person, and I do not want put your ideas down.
You claimed that you are very well read. It is definitely not about India and USA.
There are 1000s of Universities in India. A place like Delhi probably has 10 Universities: Delhi U., IIT, JNU, Delhi School of Architecture, etc. Same for Kolkatta, Bangalore. In addition to Universities, there are 1000s of technical institutes (deemed Universities)
Out of 10,000s such institutes, maybe 2-3 of them (at College level) talked of imposing dress code. Delhi U., IIT, JNU have no dress code. A word like “lot” is totally wrong, totally.
About Khusboo case, it was more about DMK-OBC-what not politics. People like Kamalhasan sopke out on her favor.
Aint’t we are little ignormarus. Me too.
PS: Let us this discussion about mixed-race people reconnecting to Desi culture. Shall we.
…this thread is about a lighter shade of brown….
razib (#165): and a deeper shade of soul
Razib,
I just visited your gnxp.com blog and found out that you are quite the racialist/racist. Dude, you are pretty sad. Your applauding John Derbyshire’s calling for a social revolution of thought to legitimize racist thinking that blacks are inferior mentally and morally than the rest of humanity is left me wanting to take a mental shower. Blech!
“Let us this discussion about mixed-race people reconnecting to Desi culture. Shall we.:
Kush I second your thoughts. I owe you guys all an apology to have unintentionally digressed the topic at hand here. I am afraid I have inititated a flame war, so to speak.
In Meena’s own words, she is 19, I wish I had known this earlier. Meena, I respect your opinions and had no intention of flaming you. I am pretty sure, after you visit India and a good dose of statistical studies on sample collection, bias, etc in college, you might understand where I was coming from. A simple example would be, watching Fox News, Jerry Springer show, Girls Gone Wild to name a few aren’t true representative examples of American way of life. America is bigger and diverse than that.
Since, I am engaged to an American woman with our wedding at the end of the year, I thoroughly enjoyed this conversation between Sid and DD. I hope, we continue our discussions on multiracial children. once again, sorry guys!
Very interesting post from DesiDancer and Siddhartha. While it started out as a conversation between the mixed, it turns out most of us are mixed, as the immigrant experience often entails being pulled and conflicted between various groups, identities, and cultures.
For me, this convo reached it’s zenith with Branch Dravidian, especially when he introduced the complex issue of class. I especially liked this tidbit from the related “are we american” post:
beautifully ironic and well put. issues of power and privilege are just as fluid as identity. nothing is more dangerous than a group convinced of their own powerlessness. privilege and power can be so hard to acknowledge when it’s your own.
but for what it’s worth, branch dravidianÂ’s conflict and suffering, like many on this thread, has created an interesting character. the mixed, like immigrants, are natural outsiders in a larger society. and this, if you want it to be, can be a gift–as one can see things from the outside not visible from within. so the ingredients for a very interesting life is there. just add a little bourbon and mix.
Kush, I’d never dare to claim that I was well-read. And if I did it was either the result of extreme exhaustion and/or typing up a post at one o’clock in the morning.
meena, do you where wood shoes???
Manju, You and I often don’t agree on things, but I need to give you props on comment #169. Very well put, and very true, as well as very optimistic, which is very good. Respect.
Meena, I’m so glad you posted your thoughts in #169. In having this discussion with Siddartha, we wondered if the concept of mixed-identity would extend further than being mixed-race. Thank you for such eloquent commentary and raising some very interesting questions and points. The fluidity of all the facets of our identities is what makes this dicussion both incredibly interesting and difficult to draw concise boundaries of exclusion/inclusion. Thanks for your contribution!
On mixed identity, i think this is something many desis can relate to. the idea you guys had above of choosing to be desi also pertains. although its harder for a desi with two desi parents to be fluid, as racial/ethnic construction is often based on color, it also can happen, on an idealogical level.
i think this is both a good and bad thing. on the bad side, ideology is quite important, either unsaid or said ideologies. so if one’s identity formation also is packed in to what “does it mean to be X” identity, thats almost quite a struggle. Witness the sturm and drang that comes up with desi dating issues. I think its because for desis, dating is often both a relfection of personal identity, and ideology, even if the ideology part is not spoken. And thus, there is much confusion regarding dating. Which is absent for the normative community, i feel. In the normative community, it can be “just dating” but its a bit harder for desis to “just date” especially after a certain age/maturity stage when dating is as much about one’s identity as one’s libido. Although one should never date, i feel, solely as a function of one’s identity-making process.
But dating is only one part of life. Another factor is role models. Some role models come from literature, for me. My foremost, or one of the foremost literary role models is William Faulkner. Partly for his writing, which is simple and soulful, and often slow, and almost always powerful, but also because he writes of a time and place not normative. To say it in a non-lyrical way. He describes it much better. However, for me, his stories ring true, even though someone may not understand a desi-american relating so well to Faulkner’s landscape.
This is another “problem” in that i may understand myself well enough, other people may not. They may not understand the connection i can feel for Faulkner, or Lucinda Williams, who is an alt-country singer whose landscapes are often Southern in nature, but almost always also full of thoughtful sadness, again to say it less well than she sings it. Others may percieve this as adventurism, or something else, rather than understanding a feeling that fellow-travelers are borne of inward experience as much or more than outward appearence. I don’t yearn in anyway to be a kin of Lucinda Williams, or a fan of hers who was born in Memphis or in New Orleans, but i feel my experiences in some ways are akin to a fan who comes by their interest in a more down-home way.
A related story, is that it was very easy for me to pick up country dancing; the juke kind of swing your elbows dancing, not the line dance. People did wonder how an urbanized desi-american, in some ways concieved as a prototpyical city demographic, could pick up a folk tradition with relish, but really, i’ve been leaning folk a long time, because not inspite of being desi. As well as because of my life experience.
There are many more problematic issues, such as wondering if the culture you are part of respects you fully. Issues like undercurrents of disrespect toward desi-related things, even if its accents of parents or smells of cooking, can hurt. It hurts to respect a culture if it does not respect you. But also, such is life. I tend to go back to my Punjabi heritage, because it is a culture in which the way i feel and know i am respected. People in Punjabi culture like and respect the mores, appearence, foods, music, culture, literature of those of their culture, this is reinforcing. it may be why Punjabi culture has an almost exagerrated sense of pride. Colloqiually, repping your hood means you’re repping yourself. I am a man, I am a woman, my appearence, my life-way is not inherently mock-able, its inherently worth. That is why there aqcuiesing to cultural stereotypes that demean one’s identity are hurtful.
On the positive side, desi-identity, when embracing hybridity, is often a liberating experience. If the hybrid has connections within the various apsects that make them hybrid, thats wonderful. This is however, kind of conditional on how other people experience your hybridity. Just one example for me is, being mistaken for Latino is at times done by having ethnic slurs or ethnic-based disrepect come my way. At those times, its like, man i just got crap for something i am not, but someone else percieves me to be. And because of the ignorance of the situation, even though I know, objectively, I am not Latino, it in some way does not matter. However, that also motivates me to for solidarity with Latino culture, and experience culture in a way that brings out positive results for being “Othered”. As much as people may mock the concept, it has a lot to recommend it, the idea of the Other and the Essential.
The hybrid identity is an attempt to say the former Other is now another form of Essential. And this hybrid Essential does not exclude other hybridities. So therefore, we are all Essential, all normative in our subjectivity. We all bring something to the dance. Naive as that is, it can be created in small moments and ways. Which to me is the hope for the future of our society. Made easier by tolerance and equality. Made harder by extremes of living conditions and fear and animosity. On a cultural level I think it does matter what ideals we hold and aspire to, because this sets a tone for day to day inter-actions.
An incredible lesson from this thread.
re: my #173. Intended to Manju, oops!
uhh.. thanks for the link amitabh … bandicoot rat – pandhikukku, the pig-dog – damn – !!! and i thought they were just pests like raccoons…
heey meena… still look up lonely planet… or footprint… maybe it’ll stimulate ideas for side-trips on your nextvisit to chennai.
Question for Siddhartha and DD: are either of you religious? Do you see your participation in religious rituals as a real connection to the divine, or do you see it primarily as a cultural activity, something even atheists can do? Siddhartha, since you’re da ill hindu, what does “Hindu” mean to you? Do you see it predominantly as a culture, a philosophy, or a religion?
Thanks! I’m not very eloquent or good at getting my point across in writing, and I hope I didn’t seem offensive or a troll or something.
I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to appear insulting. I don’t really have any legitimate criticism of Chennai or in fact Tamil culture. Especially not when my own mum is such a culture vulture – she has a huge collection of carnatic music, plays the flute, and attends concerts, as well as bharath natyam performances. I guess it’s more the idea that being a Northie/Punjabi is somehow more ‘fashionable’, more ‘desirable’…I find it hard to explain to foreigners that I actually don’t speak Hindi and that whatever is depicted in Bollywood films is actually quite unfamilar to those who hail from elsewhere in India. One of my best friends is a Southie through and through by heritage but she barely associates with it apart from the occasional Tamil film – she prefers to speak Hindi and is a Bollywood addict.
Thanks, I will. We actually went to Mahabalipuram this summer. But it’s tough going out in the Indian summer when one has to drag along a younger sibling who incessantly complains about the heat. 🙂
] Right, I didn’t read this post…why can’t we edit our own posts?
Nina_P,
even though you asked this question to the thought generators/leaders for this post, I am taking the liberty to offer an answer.
I have been known to participate in Judeo-Christian religious rituals as a cultural practice. I look forward to seders, like and make seder food out of context, angle for Chunnakah and Sukhot invites for the lovely company, wine, fabulous presents and general excellent vibes. On a more somber note, I’ve been to a few Yom Kippur services, done the requisite fast, attended services, wept, and gorged on sable afterwards. Also, there’s nothing more festive, in my opinon (save for Diwali or October in India), than that of a Yuletide or Easter celebration. Lights, colored eggs, chocolate, fish or roast lamb with jelly–what’s not to like? I am practising Hindu and I participate in Judeo-Christian rituals, cuturally, when it’s afforded and suits me.
That said, I get extremely uncomfortable when I learn another person in my yoga class has undertaken teacher training, is learning sanskrit, eating only satvic food, and has changed his/her name from Eddie/Meghan to Ganesha/Saraswati.
For all the Christmas trees and eggs I’ve decorated, dreidels I’ve spun and gifilte I’ve made and ate, my name (by this I mean my person) remains Pritha. I do not become Rebekah or Alice, as a result of cultural subscription.
For me the rub exists thusly: Why do some get to practice the process of my being–Hinduism–and are supported in their endeavor commercially–Hello, Jivamukti!, Russell Simmons, Sting, Madonna, etc.–culturally; or decoratively–Ganesh lunch boxes, Kali imprinted thongs (although these are a bit fierce, I must admit), etc.
As you might know, it’s not easy or always logical being religious, be you Hindu or whatever; it’s a willingness to let something else take over, and be confident, secure and calm during the interplay–be it comfortable or not.
I can’t imagine my life without religion. And I can’t imagine religion without my life.
“The whole desi thing is more I guess northern india/eastern pakistan perhaps.”
Well, as a tamil, I kinda felt alienated by the word ‘desi’. I knew of it for many years, but did not know exactly what it meant, or how it was pronounced (‘desi’ like ‘guess’ or ‘DHesi’ or..) or if it even applied to me. I had to look it up on the internet to find out it was derived from ‘desh’ which apparently means land. To me, the only indian word I knew for land was ‘nadu’.
..Maybe if the name for us was ‘nadi’ I would feel more included? ;).
Regarding Meena’s comment on being Tamil, I found this very common with the 2nd gens hailing from Tamil Nadu. Most are quite ashamed are this heritage, proud to say they’re from India but never admit to being from tamil nadu. When another ‘desi’ asks which part of India they’re from they might reply ‘Madras’, hoping the other desi doesn’t realize that madras is the capital of tamil nadu (which they often don’t since most desis I’ve encountaring (barring the sri-lankans) are quite ignorant of the ‘South’…associating ‘madras’ only with ‘Madras Dosa Hut’..).
What a fascinating conversation! I’ve lived in the US for 35 of my 43 years and have 2 chlidren 8 and 10 who I’m sure as they grow up will be very curious about their part-Indianness. My feeling is that my daughter will have a very similar experience to you DD. Her grandparents have given her a Bollywood movie which she is entranced by. She loves to dance- not something I encouraged at first as I was hoping she would fall in love with tennis- and looks forward to visiting her dad’s birthplace in Kerala. Both my son and daughter love to show off their flexibility when their old man is struggling with a yoga pose but they dont know very much about India because I’ve become thoroughly assimilated . Not enough trips to India and very few Indians around growing up. That’s why I love reading this blog.
Yeah, being from a south Indian background I feel uncomfortable with seeing the coalescing ABD or American Desi identity seeming to hinge upon Bollywood, Hindi knowledge and/or catchphrases, bhangra.
Particularly Bollywood…it seems too superficial to be such a strong identity marker, and I feel for Meena (the Southie Dutchie’s) frustration at being rejected by other Desi kids where she lives because they regard watching of Bollywood as integral to being Desi.
Great post, and the different perspectives that have shown up in comments here have been very informative to FOBs like me.
It’s interesting that people of south Indian origin in the US do not identify with the word ‘desi’. I don’t believe I’ve heard south Indian FOBs say the same. The reason behind this difference in attitudes may be that south Indians in India take hindi extensively in school and are familiar with the word desh through patriotic songs.
In regards to Bollywood…although it has some entertainment value, and the occasional film is actually good (and I concede that over the decades a large number of films have become classics)…overall it sucks. It stopped reflecting genuine sensibilities a long time ago…it’s more a reflection of the ego-maniac producers/directors and actors than anything else, trying to be as westernised as possible, as provocative as possible, and really pandering to the audience more than anything else. What I also dislike about it it that it takes people’s culture, distorts and bastardizes it, and sells it right back to those people (who, like morons, just eat it up). An example…I was at the wedding of a friend of mine (Punjabi Hindu) who was marrying a Punjabi Sikh (I somehow ended up being the dholi (dhol player) in his baraat but that’s another story). Anyway…several of the bride’s nephews, ages (roughly) 7-10, all proper Sikh boys with patka and uncut hair, performed a bhangra dance to that damn song Say Shava Shava from Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham…when there are hundreds of REAL Punjabi songs to choose from, WHY CHOOSE THAT CRAP SONG which is mainly in Hindi and English anyway (with some Pseudo-Punjabi thrown in)? Those boys were dancing to a diluted, watered-down, caricaturized version of their own culture. That’s the power of Bollywood. Furthermore, Bollywood is full of grotesque stereotypes of various people (South Indians, Gujaratis, Sikhs, Parsees, just about everyone for that matter) which I have no doubt many in the audience take as being the truth. I don’t say Bollywood is all bad…at its best it captures the pulse of India, provides some beautiful songs and entertainment, does reflect something about India (I haven’t quite figured out what yet), has given us many talented actors/actresses, and as people like Mira Nair and Gurinder Chadha have found out the hard way, it is very difficult to make a Bollywood-style film successfully. But still – it doesn’t get the criticism it deserves either. And like a JUGGERNAUT it is homogenizing Indian culture, and marginalising a lot of people (as this thread testifies to) along the way. That being said, if people recommend a good film I will watch it.
doesn’t tamil have the word desam? I’m not sure what the status is of that word is in Tamil if applicable.
Reading the news articles on Jassi Singh on the news tab, its clear Punjabi culture needs to go a way before we are all fully respected. that was a hard story to read
Amitabh,
I echo your thoughts in #187, I’m sure you no doubt believe in them wholeheartedly, it’s just a little ironic for those thoughts to be coming from someone with the name “Amitabh.”
HMF:
Unless you were joking, your comment was totally idiotic. There’s no irony at all; I wasn’t named after Amitabh Bachchan. I was born in late 1971; although he had made a few films, he was far from famous or iconic at that time. Get real. That being said, I do respect the Big B, and obviously there will never be another like him.
Is there a geneticist in the house? I believe there is, in the person of razib. Someone told me that Australian aboriginal people, whose skin is very dark, actually have fewer genes for melanin than do black Africans. Hence, the mixed offspring of white and full blood Aussi aboriginals are surprisingly light, much lighter than mulattos (black african/european). What does the “number of genes for melanin” mean? Wouldn’t that differ among desis enormously? Don’t mean to get into the regional differences again, but afer all,we are talking about “mixtures.”
What does the “number of genes for melanin” mean?
there are 4-6 genes which seem to control for 90% of the variation in skin color. e.g., MC1R. here is a list.
australian aboriginals exhibit variation in color, though they are on the dark side as far as humans go. many identified aboriginals also have lots of white admixture now. a minority of aboriginals seem to be naturally blonde, a different gene than in europeans seems to cause this.
there is a general ‘consensus’ sequence for dark skinned people the world over, think of it is 5 genes all ‘turned on.’ you can get lighter by turning each gene ‘off’ one at a time. brown peoples have mixed genes, ergo, their variation. europeans and east asians seem to have different genes turned off.
Hmm. Joking? As in humor? I believe I’ve already answered that charge here
Been workin! So sorry I missed this one DD and Siddhartha. Thanks for the shout up top. I shall wait for Part II and throw in my two cents (which seem quite different to your experiences). I consider you both friends so it was cool reading what you said.
The aussie aborigines look a lot like indians. Drop a bunch of them in the middle of India and no one would think they were foreigners. Maharishi Mahesh Yogi (founder of Transcendenta Meditation), Prime Minister Narasimha Rao and many others look exactly like aussie abos for example.
in my two cents (which seem quite different to your experiences)
Welcome back, Dr. Bong Breaker.
Your prespective and experiencecs will be different as your mother is Indian.
Also, USA was big on assimilation, and still does not have critical mass of South Asians. Opposite of UK on both counts.
We would love to hear what ever you will be willing to share.
In relation to what Deepa, John, Vivo and Amitabh were saying –
I too remember at first feeling a little uncomfortable about the word ‘Desi’. This is because I saw it as a word that belongs in some languages and not in another etc. But now I’m seeing the meaning behind the word – an identity in the global context, especially in the Western world. Something that includes people of various countries in South Asia plus our people who were born in the US, Europe, Kenya, anywhere and of course, the subject of this thread, those who have one parent from South Asia.
This has to do with context – If I’m a Bengali surrounded by other Bengalis in Calcutta, being totally ‘”normal” and not having a global context, I can see nothing but differences with the Punjabi. But if I’m a Bengali (IBD/ABD) in Lincoln, Nebraska, suddenly I’m the one who’s not “normal” and the big similarities with that same Punjabi becomes important to me. This also has a something to do with the external gaze that’s been talked about earlier in this thread. In the external gaze on the Western/global majority, we are the same, either by appearance or by some practices, regardless of our citizenship. It might also be something no one else might notice at all – the way we feel it at home with our parents who are different from all the other ‘normal’ parents. I credit SM with playing a part in my migration from the “Indian” to the “Desi” identity.
Sure, Tamil has ‘desam’ in it. So do Telugu and Malayalam. Maybe Kannada too, I don’t know. But that seems somewhat irrelevant. We don’t object to the terms ‘Indian’ and ‘South Asian’ simply because these words don’t belong in our languages. Is it really important what word is used. A desi by any other name is just as desi.
Bollywood. I can’t stand most of that stuff and don’t watch more than one Bollywood movie a year (for which I sometimes kick myself later). There’s plenty of good cinema (including in Hindi) in India which is not from Bollywood. Perhaps because Bollywood has to cater to the entire nation + the diaspora, it is under greater pressure to dilute the cultural specificity and then there’s the tendency to add junk just to give you the full three hours since you’ve paid for the ticket. 🙂
My point in that last paragraph is, it’s easy to embrace ‘desi’ and ditch Bollywood.
Branch Dravidian,
Truly interesting post. I don’t think watching Gandhi setting off an interest in India is silly at all. I used to be embarrassed as a kid about Indian culture because all we learned about it in school is that we worship cows and the caste system. After learning more and more about him, the prouder I became to be Indian. I don’t worship the guy or anything, but I still think he’s pretty damn cool after all these years. A couple of questions if you don’t mind: how is it your grandmother was half Irish? I would understand English, but confused about Irish.
Regarding where you grew up, your dad was a lawyer was he not? Did he not support you and your mom after the divorce? Lastly, what kind of bourbon do you drink?
Meena,
I don’t know. Why be embarrassed of being Tamil? A little confused. I’m Kannada. Sometimes North Indian ABDs ask me what that is. Then I have to say from Bangalore. I always visited Indian during the monsoon. It has its own charm. I agree there is unequal treatment of women in India, but I also agree with those posters regarding treatment of women in the US being not so great. One of things I find troubling is the earlier and earlier sexualization of girls. The things some parents let their children wear is kinda disgusting. Where’s the childhood? I know getting to have sex and talk about it openly seems really cool and all, but I would recommend you look at Foucault’s distinction between ars erotica and scientia sexualis.
I know very little about the Irish great grandfather. Apparently he was some sort of businessman/entrepreneur, not a government employee. My grandmother was born in 1912… I’m not sure exactly when her parents married, but I’d guess it was several years before that. Obviously a marriage like that was highly irregular… I assume both partners being Roman Catholic helped some. Miscegenation aside, his case was not all that unusual. Many Irish ended up in India while both countries were part of the British Empire. Annie Besant might be the most famous example.
That’s a very long and complicated story… a topic for another post or another forum entirely. In brief: The divorce was very nasty and my parents remained enemies long after it was done. Relations with the new stepmother only further complicated things. Most of the time my father did the bare legal minimum for his kids (me and one brother). Most of the material and moral support we got was from our grandparents, who stayed on in New Orleans pretty much for that purpose alone. Our father did not break contact, and we did get to visit him about once a year. Later on, after my mother was pretty much incapacitated by personal problems, we went to live with him for a few years. That went about as well as could be hoped for… nobody got shot at least. For what it’s worth, he did end up paying for private high school and college. As adults my brother and I have not stayed on good terms with him, a situation he is quite happy with… To be even briefer: My dad is not a nice guy.
George Dickel, mostly (OK, technically not bourbon since they make it in Tennessee)
I’m actually a product of 2 brown parents, yet I too grapple with an identity crisis. I spent the first 10 years of my life in India and my adolescence and adulthood in the U.S. I guess I feel as if I am in limbo — I don’t feel that I am totally American, but neither do I feel completely Indian (Sesame Street and Thundercats are as foreign to me as Bollywood). This is further compounded by parents who themselves are trying to resolve the dissonance between western traditions and indian values (for example, in high school, my mom was excited to help me shop for my prom dress, but taking a date was out of the question).
Have other 1.5 generationers felt this way and what have you done to come to terms with this?
Deepthi, this sounds like my upbringing (but I consider myself 2nd gen- came here at age 7). I’ve noticed that my younger sis and bro had an easier time making friends. I thought that people were judging me, perhaps because the few aunties and uncles I knew were rigid. I was the one who is always on the look-out for desi (especially Bangladeshi) friends. My sibs feel no need to connect to their bangla side, at least not yet (they are 23 and 17). But, I always felt “different” from other people, and not just because of my shyness. Kids tend to stick to their own kind after a certain age, if you look carefully. It wasn’t until I moved to NYC that I met any Bangladeshi-Americans like me!!! What a relief…
the mixed, like immigrants, are natural outsiders in a larger society. and this, if you want it to be, can be a gift–as one can see things from the outside not visible from within.
Yes indeed!!! This is what I like best about being desi (though I’m not mixed). We know about the perspective of the old folks, ABCDs, new immigrants, etc. It’s like their are different voices in my head, b/c I’ve been raised with differing ideas. For example, my mom was always more flexible than my dad, no matter what the issue. The Bangladeshis I grew up around in Arizona (academics and upper-middle class) were LESS friendly than the ones I knew in Indiana (middle-class and humble). And around NYC, I see ALL types of desis (so there is always somewhere that I feel welcome)!