Becoming American Becoming Ethnic

Being Indian in America: My Ethnic Roots and Me

Lila Shah (SUNY Binghamton 1990) Being Indian in America: My Ethnic Roots and Me Myheritage and ethnic roots are the foundation of my self. I am fortunate enough to know my roots and appreciate them. My life changed dramatically thirteen years ago when my family and I emigrated from India. The immigration experience transformed my life and me, personally. I have had the advantage ofenjoying both cultures and understanding how they have shaped my life. My family was a part of the Indian middle class. Unlike America, middle class in India meant a life ofdaily struggle and marginal economic mobility . Typically, the rich got richer, the poor got poorer, and the middle class got nowhere. This situation and pollution problems, which aggravated my father's health, compelled us to leave India. My aunt (father'S sister) sponsored us in 1976, and my parents decided that my father would precede us to America where he would look for job opportunities and a place to live. While my father was gone, my mother would begin to pack up our apartment. On a rainy evening when the smell ofrain hung so heavy in the air that I still remember it today, my parents told us of their plans. My father stressed the lack of opportunities for my sister and me in India and the wealth of opportunity in America. Naturally, my sister and I were completely against the move and we were very vocal. My sister was ten and I was six, and India was all we had ever known. Opportunities, education, and careers were remote ideas. My father left, and for the next year, I prayed that he would not find a Shah family photo, Dhoraji, India, 1970; the family had gathered for the funeral of Lila Shah's paternal grandfather. Lila's father is second from the right; her mother is at the extreme left. Lila Shah riding a horse on Juhu Beach, Bombay, 1973. 209 Being Indian in America job or housing. I had no desire to move to a country ten thousand miles away for concepts I could barely understand. However, my father did find a job and a nice apartment in Syracuse, New York. So in 1977, I left with my mother and sister. At the airport, all our relatives and friends came to say goodbye. The departure was one ofthe most traumatic experiences of my life. I felt I was leaving behind everything I knew and venturing into an unknown chapter of my life. The resentment I felt against my parents that night was almost tangible. Upon arriving in America, we were reunited with my father, and he attempted to explain all the good he had discovered in this country. Our apartment was the first thing I marveled at. In Bombay there had been an acute water shortage for as long as I could remember. This resulted in twenty minutes ofwater a day for all those living in Bombay. Even now, this seems tremendously difficult for me to comprehend. In our new apartment I quickly discovered that running water was available twentyfour hours a day. Many times I awoke in the middle of the night and watched the water run out of the faucet. Besides these small amenities, it took time to adjust to life in America. School was a new experience as I quickly realized that I was the only Indian in the second grade and in my whole school. Luckily my school in India was conducted in English, so I was completely fluent. Aside from speaking English with a British accent, I was very much like other second graders. My elementary school is the institution I credit with my assimilation. It was there that I learned about relationships and American customs. For example , a foreigner in my school in India would have been respected, and everyone in the class would have tried to become friends with that person. In the United States, instead, I was looked on as something of an oddity due to my darker skin color and different name. Although people were not outwardly cruel to me, they were not friendly either. I was treated with polite indifference. Relationships between boys and girls were also much more forward than in India. The way school was conducted in America was also different. In India, I had to stand up to answer questions, and there was always the chance of being hit by...