There is a specific description used for people like me, ABCDs. American-Born Confused Desis: the South Asians of second generations of first-generation immigrant parents seen in the United States.
American- Born:
I am the generation of cultural acculturation, bringing in new tastes, ideas, and influences to the household, our parents wouldn’t. We pick up slang effortlessly, using them seamlessly within our everyday lives. We show them a new world and introduce them to diverse ideas and perspectives. In a way, we took on their sense of style and speech, yet still get scrutinized as outsiders and are judged easily before a word is said.
For me, being American-born means distance. Not just physically but also culturally. I’m on eggshells, unsure of what jokes or references I can make due to cultural and environmental differences. My broken Marathi serves as a link- a weak one- but how good is a second language if you speak it in only one setting because you’re rarely able to even use it? It’s that, alongside the physical distance between my relatives and I that drove me to become more isolated. I live on the other side of the world, needing to take two-day trips to see them only for a few weeks. I am forced to observe the people I love slowly grow old and fade away, while I sit in the past thinking they’ll always be there.
Confused:
The proper term is: stuck between two worlds. Where do we truly fit in? What part of ourselves do we like better? The American side, going off of Western influences and experiences our parents grew up against , or the Indian side, dressing up in extravagant dresses as we play garba, perform aartis, and hang lanterns in the house. We tend to lean towards the American side- where we feel free. Where we feel accepted as our own individuals , unlike at home where our parents’ stringent rules restrict us, having to put up facades in certain aspects to make us seem more “presentable” to our relatives. I’ve always stayed in-touch with my cultural roots, always finding a way to bring out my two sides. From wearing traditional anklets with my regular “American” attire to wearing Converse under kurthas, and so much more. It makes me feel connected. As if I belong in both worlds rather than feeling like an outsider in each.
Desi:
I’m the first and last guinea pig of my parents. In other words, the only child. My parents have grown up in entirely different environments in India. For this, kids become their parent’s guinea pigs. We crack the system they never had to follow. We grow up in a different world than they did, so we become the ones they send out to test the societal waters. In most traditional Indian families, they have a minimum 4-family structure. What doesn’t happen with one, they can always try again with the other. I’m the first and last guinea pig. Every moment in time weighs heavily on my shoulders. I fear disappointing them. After all, I’m their only child: their hope, future, and a representation of themselves. It’s the same for every desi household. We have to do as told, we have to work hard, and we have to be at the top of the class. This pressure substantially increases when you’re the only future generation.
ABCD is often only used as a joke; occasionally a derogatory term for South Asian Americans. It actively reflects everything I have ever felt myself to be and shows who I can be. It defines my culture, my background, and the history of people who have worked to let me be born in America. It shows my mindset, how I’ve grown as an only child to make friends with certain people or to react to certain things differently. It’s a true reflection of who I am.
