138 thoughts on “A Part, Yet Apart; For All of Our Paattis.”

1. aargh…more ABD … DBD …FOB labels. Unless there is more brownbrotherhood, we are in trouble. As a recuiter, I know a white women who heavily recruits only catholics,an Italian who never hires brown programmers, and the stories of H1-Bs denied entry at US customs are quite true. Too many stories, however, Asians not supporting their countrymen and women, it never ends well for them.

2. Wow. That made me cry a little.

   I’m one of those unfortunate people who never had much interaction with any of her grandparents. Three were long gone before I was even born, and the one we were sort of estranged from, both by distance and the inevitable family melodrama. But I have/had many other grand-relatives in India who I see (very) infrequently, but whose trials, sorrows and ultimate deaths have pulled at me as deeply as if they were really my grandparents.

   A cousin recently went to India and visited many of these older relatives. He took pictures of all of them and documented his conversations with each of them on his blog. He said he did it so these people would be more than just random squares and circles on the family tree he made back in the 5th grade.

   I have a child now and he sees all four grandparents regularly, and has frequent visits from the entire extended family. He’s even “seen” more of the relatives in India thanks to webcam and Skype than I ever did in my childhood. But I have a feeling he’ll never feel the connection to these people that I once did.

3. To everyone thanking me for this post– no, thank you for reading and feeling. I really don’t deserve any of your sweet comments. Vijay does.

   Having typed that…I feel the need to intervene…

   ::

   while i sympathize with the trauma that second gen have suffered, i also feel it is tiny bit self-indulgent, i am sorry to say.

   Thank you for that bit of sympathy– and for choosing to come to a 2nd-gen blog to call us “self-indulgent”. Tossing out an opinion like that under a post about a delicate or painful subject can disproportionately impact others. I know for a fact (thanks to a lovely, heartfelt email) that you silenced someone else with your cries of “self-indulgent”.

   Discussing issues like identity and our history requires a safe space bordered by sensitivity, respect and nuance. It’s unfortunate that you felt the need to opine here, now.

   Also, if we can’t discuss these things on SM, then where? Where should we go? Our whole lives, we’ve been told that our experiences are not valid, that we are not as authentic and that we have nothing to complain about. I helped create this blog because we needed a venue like it; it is disheartening to see a sentiment like yours expressed not just on a blog like this, but on a post like this. So it’s self-indulgent to admit that grieving for a loved one is complicated by immigration choices that we never made? Really?

   Finally, if you are “sorry to say” something, perhaps it would behoove you to think twice before publishing it.

   ::

   I doubt that the commenter meant to disparage any mourning for any family members, and I think you slapping him/her on the wrist was a little uncalled for.

   Neither of us knows what that commenter meant to do. I do know this– people no longer feel as welcome commenting after that unfortunate remark.

   And a general plea to everyone going forward– if you have issues with the moderation of this blog, its self-definition as “second generation American” OR its “self-indulgence” please contact us directly. Please do not derail threads. They are meant to discuss the post, not your thoughts on blog operations or anything else off-topic. Thank you.

4. This really hit home. Lost my last grandparent recently too. You never realise the true worth of what you have until its gone.

5. I was born in the U.S., and aside from my parents and brother I’ve never had extended family here save for the 16 months my Nani spent with us around 1985. I was 7 then, but I cherish vivid memories of what she said and did, jokes she made and even her laugh. I think of her every time I pick up a pair of knitting needles; she taught me a lot in such a short time. She was my best friend. And even though I didn’t see her more than a handful of times again before her death a decade ago (I mourned in the same way you did, Anna), something reminds me of her almost every day. I credit my parents for telling us so much about our relatives and constantly corresponding with them.

   Thank you guys for sharing. Beautiful post.

6. The ABD generation before Skype and B4U and cheap airline tickets seems to have a special and different set of emotions from the new ones, who have all these ways of connecting to desh and the extended family. Also, a large chunk of this special emotional life seems to be linked to the old ABDs’ inability to handle the family language well, which seems less of an issue with the new ABDs.

   Most of the time, in discussions about teaching the family language, I go with the “more is better” argument, and quote studies showing bilingual people are smarter etc. Your family language is a resource you have, and like other resources, you should provide it to your kids, because it would expand their world. But this provides a new twist — maybe the family language should be passed on because it opens up a different way of experiencing the world and its people, and it would provide the kids with a whole different set of emotions. I think this is not true of learning any new language, probably true only for the family language. I need to think a lot more to really understand what this means, but it somehow feels like a profound insight. Thank you, Anna!

7. Sorry, two more things–

   1) Floridian’s comment (#39) is EXACTLY why I love blogging. What a gift! “Musing” is right– we should be thankful for it, because it’s a rare glimpse in to a life or set of experiences that we 2nd gens rarely, if ever, get to see.

   2) I can only speak for myself, but Malayalam actually was my first language, even though I was born in California and not Cochin. I spoke it almost fluently when I went to Kerala, even if my accent wasn’t perfect. And I still ached the way Vijay did, when I lost family members in India. Different American babies had different levels of language proficiency but what I think is key is that it didn’t help mitigate the “disconnect” as much as people might hope that it would. I worry that in the very human tendency to search for and seize upon an explanation, some of us are thinking, “Ah! They were hurt! It’s because of the language gap!”. When in reality, the reasons for the distance, the ache, the sense of being “lost” had more to do with who we were at a certain, less diverse or tolerant time. Vijay went to India every three years. I went three times, total. And yet despite our being opposites in travel opportunities and linguistics, our pain was almost the same.

   Again, a sincere, effusive “thank you” to all of you kind mutineers for sharing your own stories and keeping the conversation civil. I know when Vijay reads these comments tonight, he’s going to be touched and I’m glad for that.

8. “I am sorry that my choices meant that you would hurt.”

   What an aware, heartfelt thing to say. It wasn’t easy for her either, so for her to have the empathy at the same time for the next generation as well is something. We are often so trapped in our own pain, that we don’t have time to understand the experience of others.

9. You ABD’s on the other hand are supposed to be those hunting buddies, but wait. There you are different. It becomes tricky. You get disappointed. You have been taught to think like Americans, not that you could think any other way, but many of you had to grow up brown in a sea of white, either completely ignored or unnecessarily singled out for attention, never merely accepted. You had to answer stupid questions about snake charmers and turbans, were given names that nobody in the entire school could pronounce correctly, and if that wasn’t tough enough, had to deal with DBD parents like us at home. There is no need to repeat the no-prom, go-to-med-school, don’t-date, marry-by-twenty-five and other typical DBD-parent admonitions so widely covered elsewhere on this blog.

   It takes a great deal of selflessness to have this insight. This doesn’t diminish the challenges faced by the first, but I’m glad someone understands what the second has encountered. Our expectations were that we were as Americans, being born here and growing up here, collecting baseball cards (or whatever) growing up the same as everyone else, we would be shoulder to shoulder with the rest. Maybe I speak for myself alone, but it’s a bit of a rude awakening and jarring when it turns out that’s not exactly true. Thanks for your observations, and at the same time, I think ABD’s are beginning to understand and appreciate the sacrifices of DBD’s.

10. That was touching. Thanks for sharing it with us ANNA (and Vijay),

11. We religiously get together every Saturday night, drink JW Black

    See, truth is in the small things and thats why even on the internet its hard to fake it, as pardesi gori, the bad toupee of desi message boards, kept finding out. Now, had Floridian said “Margaritas”…

12. and franklly even JW Red would’ve raised an eyebrow in this part of town

13. I love this post. My Thatha died when I was eight. To this day, I still have all the letters he wrote me when I was small. He passed away a few weeks after I met him for the first time ever. When we left India to fly back to the states, I was the last one to walk out of my grandparents’ flat. I held his hand and told him he was the best grandpa ever. I meant it because I loved him. I will never forget that.

    Thank you for sharing these stories. They really touched me.

14. Anna, I didn’t mean to imply that language is the only reason for the disconnect. I got the impression from Vijay’s writing that a richer language would’ve made the connection to his paatti better. Of course, that would’ve made the parting more painful, but maybe such a parting wouldn’t have that dull, drowning, far-of-voices, reaching-in-dream, swimming-in-molasses feel to it. Sometimes sharper pains are better.

15. Also, if we can’t discuss these things on SM, then where? Where should we go? Our whole lives, we’ve been told that our experiences are not valid, that we are not as authentic and that we have nothing to complain about. I helped create this blog because we needed a venue like it; it is disheartening to see a sentiment like yours expressed not just on a blog like this, but on a post like this. So it’s self-indulgent to admit that grieving for a loved one is complicated by immigration choices that we never made? Really?

    anna, i am sorry my comments caused so much heartache or made people hesitate to post. i certainly did not mean any disrespect to those who are mourning the loss of loved ones. grieving is a painful process and i do hope sharing in this forum helps bring solace. i am one of those who came in the late 60’s and when i lost my mother it took a long time, years, before i could even mention to anyone that she has has died. it was too painful to even knowledge it. so yes, it is complicated, even if one made the choice to immigrate. it is not always a choice.

    what i meant by self-indulgent was only that every migrant suffers in small and big ways. compared to the kind of desperate lives some other immigrants who have arrived here in the US lead, if authenticating one’s identity is our biggest problem, it seems to me we are kind of blessed as south asians.

16. STAY ON TOPIC. If your comment has been deleted repeatedly and you repost it, you are a nuisance and you will be banned.

17. Thank you for this post – I second the other comments, beautifully written by both you, Anna, and Vijay.

    I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately because I am expecting the birth of my first official (as in, not a cousin’s kid but an actual sibling’s kid) niece shortly, and have been thinking about how her life will be different from mine and her mother’s (my sister). The biggest difference in terms of culture is that she will have two American parents, both of Indian descent yes, but she will be born in America and come from American stock. She will grow up with her aunts and uncles and grandparents and cousins. She will see them on a regular basis. She will not know what it is like to miss them or to send or receive letters to/from them. She will not grow up knowing the best calling card rates or the best shipment methods. I remember growing up, I had a close (non-desi) friend who always went to her grandparents’ house after school. Her grandparents lived three streets away from her house. I always felt jealous about that, considering my grandparents lived a gazillion miles away and to this day, we have been to India to visit her approximately eight times. I know my sister’s hope for her future daughter is that her aunts and uncles and grandparents will be around all the time (I know I will be available to babysit whenever they need me), and I think how lucky this child will be.

    Anyhow, thank you for providing us with a forum to reminisce, share, compare, and commiserate.

18. Our whole lives, we’ve been told that our experiences are not valid

    This happens all too frequently. 1st gen says “hey, we came to the US with $2 (!) in our pocket, everyone in the US back then was in the KKK, but we persevered against all odds”. We respect their sacrifice; they don’t need to invalidate our struggles which are different in nature, to legitimize their own.

    How are your studies?” and then shouted, “Veddy good!”

    LOL. I think we all had pretty much the same conversations with our extended family.

19. Oh my gosh crying when I read this. Anna you have touched a nerve. And there is a movie waiting to be made here.

20. Anna — Thanks so much for posting our exchange in such a dignified way.

    To Everyone — thanks for all the comments, I hope in some small way, Anna and I sharing this conversation more widely via SM made some sort of a difference. The thought that maybe one or two of you called India after reading this is really heartwarming. And I look forward to sharing this whole moment with Manoj when he’s old enough to understand.

21. Lovely post. Cheers to all the Paatti’s everywhere.

22. Thanks for doing this blog. Growing up in America had its challenges even if you grow up in a racially diverse place. You grew up not seeing anyone like you on TV or on the news. My family was pretty secular and what constituted an Indian identity was going to a good college to become a doctor or another acceptable profession. An Asian American was someone from East Asia heritage. Asians were invisible in America and South Asians were even more invisible. Not quite Asian stereotype, not quite black not quite white, definitely not who you would think of back then as American. A strange other that was more other than the other others. So there was a journey to see what is it to be of Indian origin, and American and then Indian American, and then how does it all fit in with just you.

23. I can’t tell you how much this post touched me. I have such reverence for my grandparents even though I saw them infrequently, and when I did, I could barely communicate to them because of my refusal to speak Marvadi in American (and, thus, was unable to speak it in India).

    To me, my grandmothers were my first feminist icons, though it may seem strange given that they got married at 15, had 10+ children, and never left the kitchen or home life. One of my grandmothers even refused to learn how to read or write (lessons offered by her father in law) because she felt that her place was with her family and her duty was to provide security and shelter. Reading and writing would have taken away from these divine pursuits.

    But was a strong, capable, driven, and utterly selfless woman. She would work from dawn till night, only pausing to say prayers, never to complain.

    Of course, there were many things about her that I didn’t understand– her conservative views of women and sexuality, her coddling of my uncles while her daughters got somewhat neglected. But I will say this–If I am half the woman she was at the end of my life, I will be satisfied

24. Of course, there were many things about her that I didn’t understand– her conservative views of women and sexuality, her coddling of my uncles while her daughters got somewhat neglected. But I will say this–If I am half the woman she was at the end of my life, I will be satisfied

    Maybe this is just something unusual about my family, but I always felt like the women (grandmothers, aunts, etc.) all pampered the little boys and ignored the girls while the men all pampered the little girls and didn’t spend so much time with the boys. I never even really got to know my uncles or even my grandfather well enough to have casual conversations with them until I was in my late teens, but my female cousins all did. For us boys it was a “yes sir” “no sir” kind of deal.

    I vaguely remember being a little scared of my great grandmother though. When I was a child she was a 96 year old woman, back hunched over from osteoporosis but still active and lively as anything. Apparently back in her day tattooing was pretty common so she had various faded prayers and mantras and such inked on her arms which I, as a 6 year old child, found freaky. In hind-sight, amateur tattooing in podunk villages in South India could not have been sanitary and probably hurt like hell. She must have been tough as nails.

    I learned a lot about my own parents by talking to my uncles and aunts too. For instance, it blew my mind when my uncle told me that my father used to be some naive, idealistic political activist who was always volunteering for one cause or another. My father? Being anything but cynical? Impossible!

25. I have to agree with everyone that this was moving and understand deeply some parts of it, but I need to say that I can’t really relate on other aspects of it. And I need to say why, even though I know people here don’t always like talking about the politics of identity, because I think the emotional connections that are written about have a context – also emotional but other things as well – that is deeply important. I’m hoping that people will understand why I need to say what I’m about to say, in a spirit of love. Because I love my desi brothers and sisters who I know, but I love them for who they are and what they stand for – that we are desi is a part of it, but not nearly enough. And so I love other brothers and sisters as well. The person I relate to best on my mommy issues is a White German woman!

    Living abroad, I like meeting Americans (indeed, I need it!) and there are particular things that are easiest to quickly communicate on with American desis. But there are also values I share with my mother that I don’t feel are prevalent in 2nd generation American desi society. There are values I can relate to now as a brown migrant in the UK. There are experiences I have had as an American abroad and as an NRI/ABCD/whatever else who worked and lived in India. There are heard experiences of people from other Asian diasporas, and people from other places as well.

    Perhaps I am not American enough. I don’t know. Perhaps I was so blessed with being surrounded by language and other factors and a fairly liberal environment around me that I didn’t feel as much of a need. Perhaps I simply need to process more. However, I still get angry when I hear people profess love for America who, as the children of migrants and as the relatives of people in other countries, ought to know better. Because:

    It is America is what made life hard for us in the first place (or really, global systems dominated by America, if you want), not our parents. America is what banned most of our grandparents or great grandparents from entering the United States and condemned them to far less opportunities, and did the same to most of the rest of the world. America is what allowed segregation against my aunties and uncles and so many other people in the 1960s and 1970s and made life so much harder for my parents and many others of that generation and even those who are older than i am (I’m 32). It is America that accuses its (fairly conservative) black president of being a secret Muslim. And America is what is encouraging us to be ABDs rather than to reach out further, look into ourselves more, and understand fully everything that we are.

    So why do we do it, if we know all this? Why do we let those scars and wounds of the past control us? Why do we not choose, to the extent that we can, to recreate our personal identities in our own fashion to the extent that we can. I see the need for community (and am in fact continuing to build it) but as a South Asian American (I don’t call myself an ABD unless forced because i don’t like the term), I want a community not just that is inclusive but that is also of my choosing – where sensibilities are what bind us and we are the masters of our own lives.

    I realise that much of this has to do with personal experiences, resources (which I had plenty of) and how they shape you – I see it in responses and debates that were posed in Taz’s post on institutional racism and the media – and know that they are age dependent, class dependent, nationality dependent, ethnicity dependent, gender dependent, sexual orientation dependent, etc. But they are also dependent on us, and what we choose to do, and I really truly in my heart of hearts believe that we need a little bit more of that.

    None of this is meant to take away from what is truly an important facet of being a transnational migrant – but is it really just us? And are we really just that – ABDs?

    I hope it will be understood why I believe this is not off topic and that NONE of this is meant to denigrate the personal experiences of Anna or Vijay. It is just a cry for appreciation of ourselves in a slightly broader and greatly deeper sense – as this post itself helps us do to some extent.

26. Why do we let those scars and wounds of the past control us? Why do we not choose, to the extent that we can, to recreate our personal identities in our own fashion to the extent that we can.

    It’s because we have internalized the impression the majority whites in America have of us as expressed through their daily interaction with us and the culture they expose us to. We feel we matter less. We are less attractive. We are less important as friends, as significant other’s, and as people walking in the street. And being American born- as is true for any living thing, and certainly any human, you want to belong to the “family” you were born into (this being the larger community of America); you never stop trying for its approval just as a son, much as he may say he hates his father [and also has internalized his father’s criticism], still secretly wants the approval and pride of his father. We want to reach out to fellow Indians, who we know we have much in common with, but deep down I think some of us harbor the sense that doing so “would be too easy”. Our personal identities are very much shaped by the way in which we were treated by the broader community and how we processed that treatment. My two cents.

27. A long time lurker, a post so meaningful and touching that I couldn’t pass the opportunity to comment. Anna, first of all, a great post. As to share my experience as a DBD, I grew up with my grandparents, they practically raised me and I could never imagine my life without them. Then at a tender age of 18 when I moved to the US for my Bachelors degree, I was flying high thinking I had it all, but little did I realize that after that day nothing would be the same.

    Homesickness made me call them every week (at a time when cell phones were comparatively new and unaffordable) and just hearing their comforting voices made life so much better. Nothing could beat that “beta” sound. So time flies and I am done with my degree, engaged and ready to go home to get married. The first time I visited back home after 5 years, I make it a surprise visit. I walk in and my grandfather sees me, doesn’t recognize me and asks me who I was (he was getting forgetful and I had changed a lot too). When I told him who I was he started crying – for one he couldn’t believe I was there, standing in front of him, the endless wait finally paid off and he was too emotional to talk.

    Same thing happened at my wedding, at the time of bidaai, he was the first one to hug me, give me loads of blessing (and lots of advice to the hubby) & he got emotional – forget my parents– they are too busy running around keeping the affairs in line. Normally I am a very emotional person and the mere sight of tears or someone crying will make me bawl out my eyes, but at the bidaai for the fear that my makeup would get smudgy, I controlled my emotions and that’s when my husband nudged me and whispered that I was expected to cry, not walk away as a happy bride. But looking back, I realize that it wasn’t the fear of the make up, but I had stayed away from them for so long that it really didn’t feel like I was leaving them. In fact I was happy that I was home and I was going to see them the next day.

    My grandfather passed away last year and I couldn’t make it to see him one last time. It hurts every time I think about it.

28. STAY ON TOPIC. If your comment has been deleted repeatedly and you repost it, you are a nuisance and you will be banned.

    who or what is the SM intern shouting at? it follows right after my post. are you shouting at me? how am i not on topic? isn’t identity issue also what the post is about in addition to grieving for the loss of loved one who are in distant places? in fact everything about the post and the theme and the message is about identity.

29. It is America that accuses its (fairly conservative) black president of being a secret Muslim.

    I like that you’re going to complain about people slandering President Obama while neglecting to note that we elected a motherfucking Black President over a goddamned war hero.

    Seriously. Bite the hand that feeds you much?

30. Anna-you are amazing as always-and thanks again for making me cry. Every time I see my niece playing with her nana and nani I think about how lucky she is….I never got that and now they are all gone, and yes she will never know what it is like to get those three am phone calls from another land telling you that a relative you never got to know is no longer….those tears are tears that only a precious few will ever understand.

    Floridian….your comment really hit home….thank you also 🙂

31. Those of us whose parents came here in the 60s or 70s, have a bigger problem with our parents language , by comparison to the younger ABDs. I think our parents had it rougher than recent immigrants and it probably was overwhelming for them to think of even teaching us their native language. Plus assimilation was the order of the day back then considering how few our numbers were back then.

    My case is the rarer one. I am an ABD who spent middle and high school in India just like any other DBD. I didn’t know more than a couple of words of my parents language when I went there. I still have a hard time speaking in Telugu because of my shyness in speaking the language.

    I did avoid becoming a brat like some of our fellow ABDs of our 60s and 70s generations. Let’s face it. Some of our peers were RUDE to the DBDs.I think some of our parents could have done a better job nipping those attitudes in the bud. Hell, since I went to India for a while, I experienced some of that rudeness from one cousin and I had to set them straight as I would not tolerate such nonsense.

    As far as terminology, I am comfortable using words like nephew and niece for even cousins’ kids because I just think cousin is way too generic when used across generations and I feel it’s positively dorky to use terms like “once removed” or “twice removed”. I keep it simple – uncles, aunts, cousins, nephews, nieces. At the same time, I do not bother to track all the telugu words used to track diffferent kinds of uncles or aunts or cousins.

32. Thank you for writing this post; it was really touching. My grandmother just passed away and I, too, have had the experience of only seeing her once every few years on trips to India since she stopped coming to the States. I am younger than all of her other grandchildren, so I felt ashamed that I didn’t have as many memories with her, or that I couldn’t remember the last time I talked to her. (overseas phone calls + her being hard of hearing or not understanding me sucked) I know not to be ashamed of that now. I can just cherish the memories I have, because they are good ones. I can’t look back and regret a situation I didn’t have much control over. All I can do know is look back on those memories, smile, and take to heart all the lessons her life has taught me.

33. 1) I was tempted to say tl;dr.

    2) then I saw this

    However, I still get angry when I hear people profess love for America who, as the children of migrants and as the relatives of people in other countries, ought to know better.

    Your preface was so nice, but not nice enough to cover up this nasty bit of judgment.

    3) what is your point exactly? what do we need more of? you seem to be saying we need less of the “A” in ABD knowing full well that this was not some jingoism-fest, this was a personal post which used that term only for the sake of clarity.

    4) I wish I had just left it at tl;dr. I don’t feel like your comment was productive or that it added to an otherwise heartfelt discussion– something very rare on this blog.

34. @Amreeka, F Yeah

    Thanks. Now I’m going to have that song stuck in my head the rest of the day.

35. My comment (#83) was aimed at #75 from Dr. Amonymous. I just realized that this is not apparent. Oops.

    @Yoga Fire You’re welcome! 😉

36. I don’t feel like your comment was productive or that it added to an otherwise heartfelt discussion– something very rare on this blog..

    @Amreeka – I don’t want to get into a thing here because I agree that this is a heartfelt discussion. My point was that my heart can go in different ways. I love my grandmother very much – enough that I am angry at the way that she, and my mother, and my uncles, and me, and a lot of other people have been treated by the United States. I mean, for Christ’s sake, I have family members that were not allowed to emigrate to the United States because of their political activities – how can I ignore that in this context?

    So I need to have the right to say that too in a heartfelt conversation. I’m not the most effective communicator in the world, to understate it, but what I was trying to say is that accompanying the sadness, the longing, and the other aspects of the experiences written above, there is, for me, an anger, that many of the things that are described in the post had to happen in the first place. And there is a frustration as to why there isn’t more attention to that aspect of those things What good is the heart if it’s divorced from everything around it?

    That is all. You know? And while the way in which I might express myself might not be useful above, are those feelings wrong to state? I don’t think so. They are real, and every bit as much of a part of this topic as anything else. I’m not going to feel sad for not having more extended family around me and for having more exposure to my grandmother without seeking to understand, for myself (empasize that – for myself) – why it’s happened.

    And try and relate that to a lot of other people’s experiences, including non desi Americans and desi non Americans and everyone else who might connect with my experiences.

    p.s. i don’t know what tl means.

37. This was a beautiful post..

    That by the time we have kids of our own? Those future grandchildren of hers? They will be fine. Grounded. Accepted. Taken for granted. 100% American in a way that was denied to us

    except for the feel -good jargon about racial acceptance. That kind of post-racial nonsense frustrates me, because it most certainly is not true. Almost as stupid as thinking that the election of a black president ends racism. It’s a sign of slight progress, but I wouldn’t consider the other options (war hero as old as time itself /sexy librarian) as serious candidates, no one with half a brain would anyways.

    “Things are getting better! My children won’t be isolated or ridiculed for their skin tone/heritage, that would be impossible because racism/bigotry/ignorance can’t be passed down from the perpetrators who feel strongly for their views and opted for procreation! Acceptance, peace, and perfect blissful harmony is only one generation away!” Please Anna, tell me you know better. I hate to be the one telling you this, but your descendants will face just as much hostility as you did, although it would probably be in different forms.

38. I doubt it will be blissful. I do think it will be better than for the first couple of ABDs generations. We are more familiar presence in the US in many fields including TV and film. Plus we have more community support now than the initial few immigrants. There will be prejudices for the future generations to deal with but they will face them as a more familiar ethnic group in the US and with more support from an established South Asian American community that already has gone through stuff in America.

39. Jenna, you’re looking for and finding shit which isn’t even in this post. And your point is not well-taken. Nowhere in the post does it say that our kids will all fulfill MLK’s dream and sing “Kumbaya!” in a Benetton ad– but don’t let that get in the way of your need to be bitter after something even you called “beautiful”.

    It IS going to be easier for our children. It already is. There is no way that children who are born in the next five years will experience what people did in the late 70s did because nothing is the same with regards to technology, pop culture even the awareness of diversity– even if that diversity is forced. Shit ain’t perfect but it’s hardly like what you’re suggesting. Are you so invested in hating and being bitter that you can’t even recognize the magnitude of how much things have changed? In college, hell, in grad school there were no Desis on television. Now every show on NBC’s “must-see” thursday line-up has a brown face. I anticipate that you will ridicule this metric but I don’t care– to some awkward 12-year old Tamil kid in podunk, Iowa, seeing Aziz Ansari or Mindy Kaling matters. We are more visible, more familiar and more accepted than we ever were before. Racism isn’t going away in one generation but a lot of other shit is.

    Also? Nice way to call someone stupid after they tried to do something nice. Condescending much? “Please ANna, tell me you know better”. No, Jenna…tell me YOU know something beyond the politics of whining, doom and pessimism. Ugh.

40. I make about 7-10 calls to India a week just to speak with newly made friends. The cost is so little I don’t think twice. It is a strange thing, I was born and raised in the US, went to India every two years…but yet in the past 10 years or so, because of email and cellphones I have nurtured over a hundred friends that I speak with on a constant basis…a half a world away! I’m a cynic by nature, but this is heavy shit! Our parents didn’t have this luxury. They lost touch with their loved ones, sometimes never/barely seeing them again. A sacrifice to ponder when we look at our parents through adult eyes.

41. Are you kidding me? May I advise you to look over your post and tell me who the bitter, condescending one is? Wow, something about my post must’ve really riled you up, I’m guessing it was the truth part. I have nothing to be bitter about, I’m being realistic. I don’t believe Anna is stupid, not even the slightest, however that comment about what future generations must expect was. It IS going to be easier for our children. It already is Oh? How so? My friend has a 6 year old daughter, adopted from Korea. I don’t think it’s fair to ignore the tearful complaints she has about the blatantly offensive remarks from her (white) classmates, regarding her eyes and the slight yellow-brownish tint that occupies her skin. I’m talking about a new generation here, residing in a fairly educated and diverse location. This little girl is a lot whiter than the average Indian and has white parents, if this is what she faces, than you can imagine what your children will.
    Shit ain’t perfect but it’s hardly like what you’re suggesting. Are you so invested in hating and being bitter that you can’t even recognize the magnitude of how much things have changed? I’d like to know what you think I’m suggesting. I never said nothing has changed, where did you get that from? I’m willing to say that most non whites have experienced racism very recently, was this the symbol of change you’ve anticipated? Okay, I’m sorry I ever brought it up, and I will just let you wallow around in your bullshit optimism and pretend that real issues don’t exist.

    In college, hell, in grad school there were no Desis on television. Now every show on NBC’s “must-see” thursday line-up has a brown face. I anticipate that you will ridicule this metric but I don’t care– to some awkward 12-year old Tamil kid in podunk, Iowa, seeing Aziz Ansari or Mindy Kaling matters. We are more visible, more familiar and more accepted than we ever were before. The fact that you use television as a source for progression is pathetic. It doesn’t matter that we are “visible”, in fact, its more detrimental than anything. The media is the biggest culprit in promoting racist stereotypes. Indians might be more present media-wise, but that shouldn’t be taken as a sign of progress, such presence will only introduce new racial issues, new stereotypes etc. I still meet people who are surprised that I don’t sound anything like Apu from the Simpsons . Being visible is not synonymous with accepted. It’s especially dangerous for a POC to claim that things will be better, because while it might have a grain of truth, it will leave (white) people to think they have no work to do in regards to institutionalized racism, things like white privilege and such, that things will just fix themselves.

    Please remember that it was in the year 2010, (not 1970 or even 1950) that a credible, reputable magazine allowed the publishing of an article which contained abhorrent statements (such as the reason for poverty in India is due to the stupidity of the country’s inhabitants).

42. Jenna, just so I can get a sense of where (when?) you’re coming from, may I ask how old you are? I ask because I am wondering if that’s part of the disconnect between our views. I’m in my mid 30s (35.5 as of last weekend :), and for the longest time, everyone I met who was my age had come here from South Asia sometime between the ages of one and five; I felt like one of the earlier ones to be born here. I’m mulling over your comment and might address one of the issues it raises in a future “identity” post.

43. To Jenna’s comment:

    I think with every passing year, our depiction in popular media changes. I think we’re still held by that silly Apu stereotype–I feel like we’re the new asians. If it was acceptable to poke fun at an ethnicity 20 years ago it was asians–but now it’s Indians. Just like maybe 50-60 years ago it was the Polish or the Italians/Russians. But look at Slumdog Millionaire, and how many people loved that? Whenever I meet people who haven’t really been in contact with South Asians, probably one of the first things they say to me is that they loved that movie. It’s their way of breaking the ice, I guess.

    I agree with you, but I also think that with passing time, South Asians will become assimilated. Maybe to not the same degree with which it has in other places in America–but it will happen.

    I’ve been incredibly lucky I’ve been in the same place for as long as I’ve been in America. I’ve grown up in a place where Indians are a minority, but a sizable one nonetheless. The Bay Area may be a small haven, but I think it’s because so many of us are big CEOs or honchos that racism doesn’t really affect us.

    I may have a starry eyed perspective. I know that some other South Asians, even in the Bay, get stereotyped and face difficulties because of their backgrounds. I’m just saying that it all will smooth out in time. It won’t be a cakewalk, but neither will it be a jungle of fear and racism. No, it’ll be a middle ground.

44. but Jenna, I thought that all your problems were caused by your unaffectionate, cruel, slavemaster indian parents? now it’s all whitey’s fault? ?

45. Thanks A N N A . And Vijay and Floridian and Dr. Amonymous.

    I speak the language of my grandparents, and most of my extended family had immigrated to the States by the time I was five, but I have never felt close to any of them. I don’t know how it happened, but my values are not their values. My family is weird, and I’m the weird one in the family. (An avant gardist born into a family of Punjabi Jatts–can fate be crueler?) (Don’t answer that, Dr. Amonymous!) (Mmm, donuts…) I love them, and I know they love me, and we can manage to laugh and cry together, but 34 years into it I am still trying to figure out how to elicit the kinds of stories and sage wisdom I need from my elders. (With some very occasional exceptions, “Get married have kids” is about as deep as we get.)

    I’m down to one grandparent–my dadi. My dada and nani were both distant and aloof. My nana was a scoundrel–not a nice guy, truth be told, and his daughter (my mother) hated him even as she fulfilled all her filial obligations–but I’ll never forget the filthy stories and advice he shared with me several times–over his favorite beer, Michelob.

    And the soap opera that erupted upon his death? iDios mio!

    I guess the old man was alright. What a character!

46. Being visible is not synonymous with accepted.

    Trudat. With a face as pretty as mine, being visible is synonymous with being loved. 😉

47. Well, Anna, (recently) 27 here, but I don’t believe age is what explains our disconnect. I don’t mean this as an insult, but the problem with your view is that it is fueled by wishful thinking, and not actual thinking. White privilege is something that will exist for a long time as people with power do not give it up, even if they know it is the right thing to do. Most whites don’t even acknowledge that it exists. Fact is, sites like stormfront.com and such are gaining a considerable amount of members by the minute. People might not call you a “dirty raghead” to your face, but it doesn’t mean that they aren’t thinking it.

    Just like maybe 50-60 years ago it was the Polish or the Italians/Russians. But look at Slumdog Millionaire, and how many people loved that The offspring of Poles, Italians and Russians have the white skin to be interchangeable with “real” Americans, this comparison is flawed because it cannot be applied to Indians. I’m amazed that so many Indians use the media as some vehicle of racial victory. Guess what a new derogatory term for Indians is? Slumdog. So much for the progressive media eh?

    It won’t be a cakewalk, but neither will it be a jungle of fear and racism. No, it’ll be a middle ground. I doubt you have any actual basis for this; I’m starting to choke on such verbal puke.

    oh and bsb, I changed my mind. Perhaps an arranged marriage will help you grow up a little and cease the tasteless, pugnacious comments you make. I never blamed anyone for my problems, interestingly enough you’re the one that seems to harbor hatred. You’re quite petty and I do feel very sorry for you.

48. PS

    I truly believe Harbeer should establish his own brewing company, and incorporate some form of Indian spiciness into it. 🙂

49. That should be Thiruvalla, not Thiruvilla, and not to be confused with Thiruvallam. Sorry, just couldn’t stop the geomapper in me:-)

50. Harbeer, thanks for the kind words.

    Jenna, I always appreciate critical perspectives and can accept a great deal of frustration from other people, but I think you’re just wrong about the way you’re looking at this, given the context. Working class desis will/may continue to face a lot of racial prejudice though the blurry line is always there with that intersection. Middle / upper class Indian Hindus, Christians, Jews, etc. will face far less than they did in the past, barring some kind of drastic shift in Indian foreign policy or continued lack of labor power in the U.S. ‘Muslim looking’ desis or desis with ‘Muslim sounding names’ (probably especially Pakistanis I would guess) will face as much, if not much more, islamophobia/racism as things turn. I’m not sure about sikhs who are visibly apparent as sikhs. And of course the xenophobia is out of control, and that will itnersect with all this. So the issue that’s at play here is not whether or not ‘desis’ will face racism in the next generations, but how it will change for different groups of desis.

    An yes structural / institutional racism will exist and racism as a whole will exist. Although even that is shifting, and class discrimination is now finally being recognize far more and ‘multiculturalism’ and arguments AGAINST racism are actually being USED as a tool to crack down on working class people by policing their language or other forms of social capital that they don’t have, which then puts them in the arms of the right wing / tea party types, and keeps the dynamic going.

    Just my two cents.