The Ups and Downs of Growing Up as an Indian American

For years, I would wake up to the sound of eight am Indian soap operas and the tea kettle going off on the stove. I would climb down the stairs and see half of my extended family, talking loudly about just about anything. I would get ready to go to school, packing a traditional Indian lunch I was sure to get made fun of for running to catch the bus with my sister (late, as always). 

When I think about my childhood and the things I grew up with, I can’t help but think about my culture. I spent my free time after school attending Bharatnatyam—or Indian dance—classes, similar to a lot of other Indian American girls my age. I would eat Maggi—Indian noodles—for lunch so often it couldn’t be healthy and would watch Bollywood movies with my whole family. 

My family and I, including all of my aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents, would go celebrate someone’s birthday, engagement, anniversary, or even just a holiday, like the festival of lights in India, Diwali in banquet halls on a monthly basis. to. We would dress up in traditional clothing, eat boxes of sweets, called mithai, and dance to Indian music for hours. Even now, I love to celebrate Hindu festivals like Navratri, in which many Hindus gather to dress up and dance late at night for a few weekends in a row. 

I would go to the temple during the weekend to pray, attend Sunday School to learn Hinduism and my native language Gujarati, and to be reminded daily about respecting my elders and teachers. I have become accustomed to a lot of Indian families I don’t know greeting me, and even knowing a lot about my personal life. Everything that followed me through childhood stays with me now. I take off my shoes when I enter any house, I do not accept money from anyone on the first offering, and I finish studying before I can have fun. 

A lot of this used to confuse and drain me. My personal identity felt lost. I wondered why my non-Indian friend told me that I reminded her of Priyanka Chopra, whom I have little in common with apart from race. When someone asked me to tutor them in math, I had no idea why when I had just barely passed the last quiz. It took me a while to get used to stereotypes or ignorance in my daily life. 

I also spent many nights dreaming alongside my cousin and my sister, watching Barbie and Disney princess movies, and wishing we were the main characters. Most of the time, it was us wishing we were lighter, blonder, and prettier. 

When we went out in public, we used to call each other “white” names. I specifically remember Alex, Dakota, and Shannon being some of our favorites. We resented wearing cholis and churidars, examples of traditional Indian clothing, and got sick of Indian music before it was even turned on. On online games, we’d always make our avatars look extremely American and nothing like us. We used to love to imagine what it would be like to be white. 

I struggled to accept myself for years; I felt people thought my brown skin was ugly,Once I got over that, I felt like people judged me for being proud of my background. When someone repeatedly made fun of my last name in elementary school, I cried. Now, I don’t bat an eye. 

I realize how wrong I was about everything. I’m extremely proud of my culture nowadays. I used to feel strange in my skin and weird about our traditions. Now, I love every part of my heritage and fall more in love with it everyday. I would never be the person I am today without the rich, Indian culture I have the privilege to experience.

Through the years, I have gathered so much knowledge about my ancestors, my religion, and my customs. I have learned a lot of discipline at home and do not take anything for granted. I try to work hard everyday which is something my family instilled in me from a young age. All of the celebrations I attend, the small ceremonies I take part in and the activities I get to participate in alongside my extended family, are the most fun I have had in my life. 

I am grateful for growing up as an Indian American. It was different from the life my parents led, but they came here with nothing so that I could grow up with something. Even though I am the daughter of immigrants, born in America, and have learned a lot about life here, I will never leave behind my Indian culture. When I go home now and smell Indian spices just as I get up in the morning, hearing my family banter downstairs, I feel better than I do anywhere else.