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How Many Generations Does it Take?

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Desi Confused by America

DCBA is the column of IndiaOn editor, Kaamna, as she chronicles her 9 years (and counting) as an Indian in America.

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I had a delightful thanksgiving at a family friend’s home. Fifty-some Indians celebrated the American tradition of uniting with family on this day, but doing it in our own way (butter chicken and paneer).

It seemed to be a suitable time for reflection, as the fathers and grandfathers reminisced about graduate school days fresh off the proverbial (and in some cases, literal) boat from India, and the wives mused about grocery stores and learning how to drive on the right side of the street. As I flitted between conversations, I gathered that to the generations that moved here in the ‘70s and ‘80s, sentiments about India varied: some believed that America (California) was their home, and that they had no reason to go back since kids, professional success, beautiful houses were all here. Others suffered from perennial homesickness but couldn’t go back because they knew their children wouldn’t be able to adjust. But they all displayed one thing in common – a firm acknowledgment and respect for what they have left behind.

A few generations down, the notorious Generation Y, has a radically different reaction. The only ties to India they acknowledge are their parents, and on occasions such as these, some extended family, and the annual trip to India. With admittedly affluent, “white” upbringings, this generation of youngsters truly relates to their American counterparts more than they do to Indians from India, blocking inquisitive cousins from their Facebook accounts (the concept of “personal space” being visibly non-existent in India) and avoiding cultural forums such as the South-Asian Students’ club with a vengeance.

As I tried to process this duality, an observant Caucasian man seated next to me asked “How many generations does it take to lose the link to the original culture?” Based on what I just learned, it would seem that the answer is one.

One generation before India becomes nothing more than an annual chore, fraught with risks of illness and obnoxious aunties; before relations such as “mother’s cousin’s son” become a degree of separation further than a random acquaintance; and before Indian non-negotiables such as taking care of elders and blood – is – thicker – than – water become optional.

What a fascinating turn of events for the first American-born generation! There was a time when one would accentuate one’s Indianness because it marked you as unique in America. But I hypothesize now that with thousands of young American Indian adults forming a noteworthy portion of the American population, competing for the same jobs, and attending the same 20 universities, the need to separate oneself from the herd has emerged anew, and the strategy seems to be the complete opposite – renounce the Indianness and embrace the “whiteness”, if you can.

And a final thought about myself: Would I be the last generation to uphold the link? I hope not. Something to think about.