opinion piece:

How I Lost my Language

Without a proper community of people backing you up, instilling respect and pride in a culture and a language that you children don't identify with, is hard. When children don't understand why their culture matters and they don't care, they become lost and confused, drowning in the paradox of supposedly belonging to two cultures on ridiculously different ends of the spectrum; East and West.




It is easily understood that language is one of the gateways into culture, it is the first thing we identify ourselves with, it is what we use to think, without it we lose such a crucial part of our identity.






The problem immigrants struggle with is, whether or not it's worth it.




Should they fit in with their neighbors, trying to live up to the western ideal, forgetting themselves in the process? Should they make it a point to remain suffocatingly close to their motherland, trying to form a unique, culturally distinct place for themselves, dealing with the risk that their children will end up hating it? Or should they try a confusing mix of both?




Growing up, my mother tongue wasn't priority; my grandparents had always wanted to have a perfect family in America,(home to the majority of the Indian diaspora), and to do that, my generation would only speak english (much to the pride of distant relatives), the language of success, and it was unconsciously decided to keep it that way.




No extra effort was needed to try and make me understand my place culturally. We ate spicy food with our hands, and we had to wear mehndi during shaadis. No explanation was ever given, because no explanation was needed. This is my culture. I belong to it. I am ‘from’ India. I could never feel embarrassed about my traditions; it was never shoved down my throat, yet, it was always there.


My lack of language was never a matter of importance until it was too late. I supposedly spoke Urdu until I was five, then I went to school, there English became the language of my thoughts. Thankfully I'm not alone; according to a 2013 study by Pew Research center, only four-in-ten second-generation Asian Americans can speak their parents’ native tongue.




Nevertheless, that misplaced pride, has turned to a shame that burns when my great grandmother gives me a look of deep disappointment when i can only respond to her stories with nod and a smile.