“I felt a dissonance that I could not yet articulate, a tear in what W.E.B. DuBois called the ‘double consciousness’ of race, not knowing how to meld my distinct identities.” - Prachi Gupta, They Called Us Exceptional
Many of the first generation immigrants currently living in the diaspora came in search of a new life, aiming to settle down and build homes and communities for their families. They brought pieces of their homeland with them, whether in the form of spices, games, or clothing. It is always a brave and daunting journey to leave everyone you know behind to come to a new space and start a new chapter, one immensely filled with surprises that are both wonderful and terrifying. After settling in, some adapt well to change, while others long for the comforts of their previous homes, fearing that a part of their identity will be lost in the host country. At first, visiting the home country is refreshing, giving a renewed sense of self, but after decades of living away, the new land has become home, complete with a community that understands both the need for preserving homeland traditions and the impact of assimilation into the dominant culture.

What the first generation passes on to their children is a dual identity- one that some struggle with while others embrace. The dichotomy of juggling two cultures can take decades to navigate. Those of us in our 20s, 30s, and 40s may still feel like we are in the development stages, while others have solidified their dual heritage with strength and determination.
Growing up as South Asian American children, many of us would often be considered perpetual foreigners-the idea that, regardless of how long our families had lived in the USA or whether we were born and raised here, we would always be perceived as outsiders. Consequently, we were considered foreigners in the land we were born and raised, as well as foreigners in our parents’ homeland. Many of us never felt we truly belonged, no matter which community we sought to join.
I turned to stories written by South Asian American authors, knowing that my feelings were shared by others. Beautifully written stories about navigating identities resonated with me. It took me years to successfully integrate both my identities. And then, as a teacher, I was truly disheartened to see some of my Asian American students struggle the same way. After more than a decade into my career, I realized the importance of creating a course that would allow these students to see themselves reflected in the curriculum. Thus, my Asian American literature class was born—a dedicated, therapeutic space for exploring the complexities of dual and hybrid identities.
For many South Asian Americans, particularly second-generation children, the journey of cultural identity and belonging is a complex and multilayered experience. Growing up in a household steeped in South Asian traditions while being immersed in the American school culture can lead to a jagged and confused sense of identity. Prachi Gupta said it best: “I felt a dissonance that I could not yet articulate, a tear in what W.E.B. DuBois called the ‘double consciousness’ of race, not knowing how to meld my distinct identities.”

In addition to our personal lives, second-generation South Asian Americans often find themselves straddling two worlds professionally. Some of us are expected to pursue careers in fields such as technology, medicine, and business, reflecting the opportunities available in the U.S. Finding common ground where these expectations align with our true ambitions can be quite difficult. I remember one of my Asian American students sharing her interest in science, but she felt the need to deeply reflect on whether her passion was genuine or simply influenced by external expectations. Ultimately, when she concluded that science was her calling, she wondered if others would perceive her decision as perpetuating a stereotype. Many of us have been in her shoes, questioning whether our choices are solely our own or shaped by how others see us.
For me, starting the Asian American literature course was a stepping stone in the right direction in solidifying my own identity. One conscious choice I made to express my dual heritage was through fashion. Many of my family and friends adhere to traditional attire for cultural celebrations, while opting for contemporary Western styles in everyday life. But I would merge South Asian patterns and fabrics with casual western pieces purely for the joy and contentment, which has lead to a new fusion identity that I have come to love. It gives me confidence that transcends the divide between two cultures, allowing me to celebrate both parts of who I am.
Furthermore, community has played a crucial role in shaping the identities of South Asian Americans. Many of us found solace in local cultural organizations, festivals, and gatherings that celebrate our heritage. These spaces cultivated a sense of belonging, allowing us to connect with others who share similar backgrounds and experiences. As a teacher, I achieved similar communities in my classroom that were thriving with students with hybrid cultures and origins. Ultimately, the journey of cultural identity for all Asian Americans is about finding a balance that is fitting for each individual. One can tip the scales as they please on any given day. For me, reading about people with multiple ethnicities, trying out new bridges connecting various cultures – whether with art, food, fashion, music, dance, or social spaces – helped me reach a dynamic and evolving sense of self.
