What it was like growing up as a first generation Indian-American

Growing up as a first generation Indian-American kid is so different than being raised by parents who were born here and have a legacy in this country. My parents moved to America from India to live a better life with more educational opportunities for my brother and I. While this move was one of the best decisions they ever made, there have also been some major conflicts about how to adapt to the American culture while preserving our Indian heritage.

My parents, along with many other Indian parents, have these crazy expectations about how we, the children, should lead our lives. They expect us to become successful doctors/engineers/lawyers – yes, sadly these are the only three career options some of us are given – who marry other Indian people and raise Indian kids, all while being successful ourselves. To do anything outside of these boundaries is considered reckless and foolish.

My parents struggle with the idea of their children adapting to the American way of life and becoming “too Americanized,” and they don’t seem to understand that coming to this country also means adapting to the culture. Because I grew up in America, I adapted to some of the American traditions. Throughout my teenage years, I had to hide my “American side” from my Indian parents.

Growing up in a country where girls were allowed to have boyfriends, sleepovers with girls that weren’t their cousins, or even hang out without telling their parents where they were going was crazy to me. Anytime I asked my mom if I could spend the night somewhere or even hang out with my school friends, she would ask a million questions.

What are her parents’ names? What do they do for a living? Do they have any pets? Where do they live? What are their phone numbers? How many relatives do they have?

Even after answering all of these questions, my mom would still say “no.” As I got older, she became more lenient about sleepovers and hanging out with friends, but still continued to ask me the same old pesky questions about my whereabouts.

I envied my friends who could just leave their houses and their parents wouldn’t question them or give them a curfew. Some of them were so close to their parents that they would tell them about the parties they went to. I can never imagine the day that I could tell my mother about the time I got hammered at a party and drunkenly walked to Whataburger for their honey butter chicken biscuits.

It wasn’t until my junior year of high school that I actually did something my parents would never in a million years approve of – date a boy who was not Indian. I started dating a guy who was only a grade above me. It was incredibly difficult to balance out my secret relationship with the rest of my life. The only people who knew of my relationship were my best friends.

I couldn’t tell my mom I was dating a guy who wasn’t Indian because she was very much stuck in the mindset that one shouldn’t date unless they’re older than 23 and plan on marrying whomever they’re dating. I was only 17 and definitely did not plan on marrying the guy. My first boyfriend was very understanding of my situation, and we continued to date for three more years. All that time, my mother had no idea I was dating a guy.

Balancing out my secret “American” life with my open Indian life was definitely a challenge. Because my parents are both very close-minded and stubborn, it was hard to get them to understand that when you move into a completely different country with a completely different culture, you have to adapt.

That doesn’t mean you have to forget your roots, or where you came from. It just means that you need to be a little more open-minded.