Anonymous
For those of you who don't know 'ABCD' stands for American Born Confused Desi. I gave this writing that title because it just seemed appropriate. Before reading this, you have to read "Born Confused" in order to understand.
I guess I can relate to this article (rather, the snippet from her book) because I used to be like this. I was so out of touch with the fact that I'm Indian. I was so eager to fit in. And I guess while I'm totally impressed with how this girl has captured the emotions of that situation, I can't help but feel sorry for her. I hope that in the rest of the book she comes to appreciate her culture. I plan on reading it to find out.
Over the past year I've kinda grown to appreciate my roots. I used to think a lot of things in my culture were... frankly, stupid. But, as I've learnt more about them I understand them so much better. While there are still things I can't help but look down on, there are so many things I'm so proud of.
I can relate to a lot of the things this girl is saying. Luckily for me, my parents haven't decided to play matchmaker for me yet. They're still afraid of putting the word 'boy' and 'Richa' in the same sentence, so I can still breathe easy. Not that I mind Indian guys, in fact, I want an Indian guy-but an Indian guy of MY choice, not theirs.
I used to like only the parts of the Indian culture that were somehow directly related or common to the American cultures surrounding me. It made it easier to fit in. That way I didn't feel so awkward and out of place. Now, by the time I hit high school, fitting in was quickly falling on my list of priorities, so it didn't matter that much, but elementary school and even middle school were hard for me.
Kids don't understand things that are different from what they know, so they make fun of it. And I was different. I went to a school with 99% white kids, there was one other Indian girl there, and she was COMPLETELY Americanized, her parents too. So maybe it was easy for her. My parents were always teaching me about my culture, trying to make me aware of it. There were quite a few times I was sent to school in Indian attire, not a daily occurrence, but often enough for people to take notice. And given, I loved Indian clothes, but I loved them when I was at INDIAN parties, around INDIAN people, where I thought they belonged-not in school.
I was picked on for it. People looked at me weirdly. And my parents making me do an Indian dance at school for the talent show didn't help. There were things said that still make me cringe. They were stupid things, but said hatefully, and they hurt. I think I hated my parents at that moment. And to top it all off, my teacher invited my dad to help her out when we did the chapter on India in Social Studies. Of course he just HAD to come in wearing a dothi. And the stares continued.
I so wanted to just go to school in my jeans and sit around with everyone and be the same. I didn't want people to look at me like an outsider.
I had no interest in Indian guys. I wanted an American guy. Just another way to fit in. the thought of marrying an Indian guy in the future seemed like a crazy thing to want when talking outside of my two Indian friends. Indian guys seemed geeky. I hadn't met one that interested me at all, or that was the appropriate age for me. My interest in Indian guys didn't occur until I met some close to my age, that I found attractive, physically and personality-wise. And I'll say right now that is a recent occurrence. Well, in all honestly, I suppose the idea of an Indian guy has been in my head for a while, but it hasn't become appealing until very recently.
Anyway, when I hit high school people were more understanding, and a lot more interested in my culture. And I'd love to say it's because people were more open-minded, but I know that's not true. The fact is that my culture was becoming popular fashion-wise, and people looked to me as a direct link to that. I chose to overlook it then, and found some joy in acceptance.
I've gotten over it, and now I hate it. I don't want to be accepted because it's cool; I want to be accepted because people appreciate my culture and me. Okay, so now I've turned from the actual topic of the article to other people in general. Let's step back, my parents: I have to say my parents are more understanding of my situation than most other Indians that have migrated to America are. Especially my dad. He understands that I'm in a different environment, and gives me the benefit of the doubt--most of the time.
Basically, when he agrees with what I want to do. Sometimes he likes to step inside his "1950 India" bubble, which I hate so much. That's when he chooses to forget that growing up in America in the 90's is different from him growing up in Indian in the 50's. My mom likes to stereotype anything that she's not familiar with. I hate that. I don't think my mom realizes just how prejudice she can be sometimes. She just likes to make assumptions and jump to conclusions about everyone and everything that she doesn't understand and it's quite unnerving.
Off topic again. Okay. Well, while my parents haven't actually started setting me up with their idea of the "Indian man of my (their) dreams" they have been preparing me. You're sitting there going, "preparing you?" right? Yes, preparing me. An Indian wife NEEDS to know how to know how to cook and clean. That's why it's often found that I'm running around the house doing chores while Anshu and Anuj watch TV and play video games. My dad often calls me down when my mom is cooking and tells me to learn the recipe or whatever. And don't get me wrong, I love Indian food, and I love my mom's cooking, and I'd love to learn out to cook the things she does so I can enjoy them when I move out, but his reasoning is all wrong. I've complained about this many times, my parents simply reply, "What are you going to do if you husband wants Indian food?" If my husband wants Indian food, he should be able to cook what he wants. Not to say I won't ever cook for my husband, I gladly will. But I will not learn to cook FOR my future husband. I think that's poor reasoning to do anything. When I complain that Anshu and Anuj don't have to learn these sorts of things, they say their wives will know...not if they marry American girls. And while I haven't discussed the topic with either of my brothers, I'm sure both of them are open to any sort of option. As am I. While I would prefer and Indian guy (raised in America, if you want more specifics...just ask, heh, trust me, there is a long list), I wouldn't turn down any other guy I fell in love with because he WASN'T Indian.
But, often times I do wonder about the things they say. Like I've mentioned, I want to marry an Indian guy... would and Indian guy be completely turned off by the fact that I don't want to be that stereotypical Indian girl who sits at home-cooking, cleaning, taking care of the children, losing any sort of social life she might want? A girl who's shy, reserved, and cowers at the thought of not meeting up to the expectations her in-laws have of her. Because I'm certainly not that girl. I'm me. And I'm going to be me. And I want someone who can appreciate that I have a life, I have a brain, and I have my own opinions. I'm not going to fear my husband or pretend to.
The way this girl's mother speaks gave me a laugh, it reminds me of my mother. I often correct my mother's English, and she hates me for it. She thinks I'm making fun of her, and while I have laughed at her expense amongst my brothers at her poor English, when I do correct her it is only because I want to help her. Of course she doesn't see it that way. She gets mad when anyone corrects her English, my brothers, my dad, and me. She seems to think she's the butt of every one of our jokes. And given, we do mock her (accent and all), it's never in front of her. And she can't be one to complain, because she laughs at our Hindi too.
I can relate to how her parents jumped to the conclusion that she was an alcoholic when they found out that she had gotten drunk. And I must say she has guts to tell her parents, INDIAN at that, that she had been drinking. I'd be too scared to even explain the concept of funnel shots to my parents, had I been drinking or not. But anyway, there have been many times when I told my parents something, or they heard about something that I've supposedly done where they've decided jump to some ridiculous conclusion and run with it. A guy calls me; I'm going out with him... or even worse, sleeping with him. *groans* Find a lighter in the house (not even mine!!) and I'm smoking (right, the girl who gets asthma attacks walking up the stairs is going to take up smoking, THAT'S smart), and then the whole episode where my mom saw it fit to read my e-mail. God, am I glad we got rid of AOL and they don't have access to my mail anymore. It seems that my parents want to always assume the worst of me. They can't even give me the benefit of the doubt, when it comes to those kinds of things.
And I hate how when something goes wrong, they say things like, "What have I done wrong in raising you?" while shaking their heads at me. Those things hurt more than they probably realize-feeling like you're a disappointment to what your parents expect of you. While I want to be my own person, I can't say it doesn't hurt that I'm not at all what they want me to be. Everyone looks for his or her parents' acceptance above anyone else's, and not having it, leaves you feeling a little worthless. My parents expect something else from me, being the only daughter, and the only one of their children still interested in being SOME KIND of a doctor (which seems to be what every Indian parent wants their child to be). And while I'm sorry I'm not exactly what they want, I'm upset that what I AM isn't good enough for them.
They also compare me to other Indian girls. Namely my cousin Mona. This is more my mom than it is my dad. My dad chooses to only compare me to my brothers (who are smart and responsible, unlike me), which is just as bad. My mom says she hates it how my Taiji compares my shortcomings to Mona accomplishments, but she does it herself. She'll note how Mona does so wonderfully in school and how I should be more like her. Mona's not as clean as she thinks she is (and that's why I love Mona so much). I'm often compared to even my best friends Sonya and Nina. I hate it. They won't let me be me. They've often looked down on my friendships with my American friends. Which sucks for more than it's obvious reason of my parents disliking my friends, but because 98% of my friends are American. My mom always tells me what she doesn't like about this friend or that. I hate it. Erin was superficial, Laura was too much of a tomboy, Liz was a bad seed, Trish talked too much, and Erica seemed flaky (well, Trish did talk too much, and Erica was flaky). Luckily, she likes the friends I have now. I'm glad, because I love the friends I have now.
And while I believe my parents are beginning to accept the fact that even if I am in touch with my Indian side, I'm still very American, I can still see how their eyes light up when I come downstairs in a salvar kurta or lehenga, ready for a party. And after reading this snippet, I wonder if wedding bells might be ringing in their heads. While my parents haven't tried to set me up with anyone, I have noticed a couple of aunties not so subtle and FAILED attempts. Somebody save me before it's too late!
ABCD - Response to "Born Confused". http://www.sleep-to-dream.net/bc_response.htm.