“She speaks Nepali!” A friend of mine was surprised when he heard my daughter speak her mother tongue. “Yes, she does speak a few sentences here and there,” I tried to play it down as I knew the context. His son, who was born in Nepal and spoke Nepali before arriving in the USA, barely speaks Nepali now. So they were lamenting the loss of the language even though I thought it was too early to give up and conclude that the loss was irreversible. I did not say a word on the topic. These were educated parents–educated enough to be aware of the challenges we all face to transfer the language to the next generation. They had an understanding on how a child’s identity is shaped by language and culture.
Juxtapose that–I have spoken to a Neprican who has said: “This is America, Nepali sikera ke garnu?” The arrogance expressed is worth noting. It sounds like anything that can not be turned into dollars–including your culture and language, the very essence of our identity–in a transaction is worthless. No loss is realized or expressed because these types of Nepricans have a poor sense of their own identity. These parents do not see the value of learning Nepali. They speak to their children in broken English instead.
I have met Nepricans who have given their children anglicized names and questioned our decision of giving our daughter a Nepali name. “It is a difficult name for kids who want to befriend her,” one of them professed. A couple of others have openly shared their concerns and bragged about their children’s social lives they associate with “easy to pronounce Americanized” names. “Easy to pronounce by whom? What about their grandparents who are struggling to pronounce their grandkids’ names everyday?” I felt like confronting them head on, but I did not.
Just imagine being lectured by Nepricans who have the audacity to just say it on your face that Hindu/Nepali sounding names are barriers for ‘friendship and progress’ in the States. I don’t know which bubble they live in, but our bubble is different–seeing diversity in names as strengths, not weaknesses. My name is butchered by almost everyone who doesn’t have the first Nepali alphabet in their sound system but I have friends who have learnt to separate “Ka” from “Kha” just because they value my friendship. That’s the type of friends I hope my daughter will have. At that very juncture we had this weird conversation, some of the Hindu sounding names were literally running some of the fortune 500 hundred companies. A difficult Muslim sounding name– Barack Hussein Obama– was already the President before my daughter was born.
I kept my cool and did not utter a word because I have mostly given up on informing and educating Nepricans who do not even know the meaning of the names they have given to their children. It’s a waste of time.
I do have the habit of being direct at calling people out if they are genuinely talking nonsense but only within my trusted circle. But still, being a student of Conflict Resolution, I have learned not to create conflict that needs to be resolved spending your own time and energy later on. Ignoring people’s nonsense is the coping strategy. After Kamala Harris became the first woman Vice President and is now running to be the first woman President of the United States of America, despite her Hindu sounding name, I am hoping that they have their answers.
I am sharing these snapshots of conversations here because I am trying to set the stage for dissecting the Neprican spectrum. I am always fascinated by people and want to explore the unbridgeable and unrecognizable patterns of behaviors people exhibit. I love the challenges posed by these unique colors of Nepricans in our color spectrum. I am continuously impressed by people who are adamant on passing the cultural and linguistic baton to the next generation and pressed by others who do not even perceive it to be important. Why is it “must be accomplished” for some of us and “I don’t care” for others! I feel like the identity spectrum of the Neprican community that produces such conflicting responses to such a basic question must be neatly dissected.
The decimal generation
So here we go! Let us decipher the spectrum of the Neprican identity in transition starting with “the decimal generation.” Yes, the Decimal Generation! I was introduced to the idea of “the decimal generation,” at my university way back while interacting with Asian American students. I heard them refer to themselves not just as 1st generation or 2nd generation Americans but more than that. They engraved their identities in decimals, sometimes called percenters–1.25, 1.5 and 1.75 – based on when in their lives (at what age) they arrived in the States. I found it a bit confusing at first because I failed to understand the need behind the use of these decimals. But, as time is the greatest educator, I now clearly see how the age factor impacts the formation of these identities. The time and the length of the exposure to the American culture and education that these decimals represent in transition are worth exploring.
It’s obvious that the parents are the first generation, and those who were not born in America but were brought into the country by their parents had to differentiate their experiences from that of their parents and their siblings who had varied experiences. Thus the decimal system of identity grew out of necessity.
If you put the decimals in between the first and second generation Americans (1.0, 1.25, 1.5, 1.75 and 2.0) in a linear way, it becomes clearer. Basically 1.25ers are those who are close to the 1st generation in experience, and moved to the States during their teens (13 to 17) and therefore had an opportunity to receive American high school education. The 1.5ers (6 to 12) had some or all of their elementary education in the country of their origin whereas 1.75ers (0 to 5) who basically were only born in the country of origin but are entirely educated in the US. Therefore, they are extremely close to the experience of the 2nd generation but they are still different because they can’t call themselves “inborn” Americans. Hope this makes sense.
I encourage you to process this for a while. Realizing that age of arrival into the States factors into everything, and impacts our outlook including the entire transition into the American communities, is key here. The idea of Neprican as a transitional spectrum cannot be understood without talking about the entire spectrum of decimal generation.
Melting pot or salad bowl?
Well, since we have defined our decimal generations, let’s talk how that is going to impact the identity formation. In our context, if we, the first generation of Americans in transition, (Nepricans) do not create an environment to speak Nepali, it is hard for the decimal or the second generation to keep or learn the language.
If the decimal generations ended up with parents like I mentioned above in the second example- those who try to blend into their preferred dream groups by changing their language, culture, color, food habits and overall lifestyle, expect assimilation. Since these parents have no understanding that integration is the best path forward and language and culture are key to the healthy upbringing of their children, they are not just waiting to be assimilated, but running towards the melting pot. Of course, they do not want to reveal that they have Nepali roots even on this transitional run.
When the first generation Nepalis who came to America with all those meanings of festivals and cultural practices fail to transfer them, the sense of belonging fizzles out, and the children drift away.
After establishing this basic foundation of argument, we probably can figure out the answer to the question posed at the very beginning. Why is there the sense of loss in many of us when a 1.5ers who spoke Nepali during their entry to the US can’t speak the language any more? How is the ability to speak the language going to remain as the hidden part of our children’s identity “iceberg” forever even if they don’t frequently use it? This probably needs a whole other discussion as we are yet to understand and assess the lifelong psychological impacts that we might have in the absence of that iceberg of language and culture. Isn’t that identity, like a thin sheet of ice, at the verge of melting away? In other words, is language and culture a deciding force on whether we are going to be integrated or assimilated?
Let us first talk about the percenters generation and how they are similar or different. Since 1.25ers have seen the struggles of their parents and are really motivated to do better, they are generally hardworking. And since they speak their mother tongue, they are aware of the hopes and fears of their parents’ dreams. That connection and understanding built out of that strong bond and the communication in the language that they understand well which captures the essence of their feelings, keep them grounded. They are more close to their parents’ generation than the 1.75ers and tend to agree to the cultural values instilled through the language by their parents. In other words, they are going to be theoretically close to the “Salad Bowl” metaphor– integrate with their unique differences where diversity is celebrated.
The 1.5ers and 1.75ers tend to be different from their siblings. They are more Americanized than their 1.25ers brothers and sisters and seek freedom that is individualized. As we are aware, the cultural iceberg is strengthened by language. Dashain, Tihar, Deepawali, and all of the other festivals can only be celebrated with a story behind it as trying to enjoy an event without a meaning is not easy. And when the 1st generation that came to America with all those meanings of festivals and cultural practices fail to transfer that essence, the sense of belonging fizzles out, and the children drift away. The children with shallow roots to their languages and culture are like unstringed air filled balloons. Research has shown that they often struggle to define who they are and might have lifelong identity issues. Others fail to be comfortable under their own skin. They pretend to be someone else who they think is ‘cool’ in their circle of friends and end up having a poor sense of self. Since they speak English like their white friends do, they are comfortable interacting outside of their identity bubbles. It is likely for them to forget the language they have been speaking after being injected into the new language system, if they do not get an opportunity to practice their mother tongue.
So the ability of the last two decimal generations to continue to speak the language depends on us–the 1st generation. These decimal generations live their lives that are closer in the spectrum with the 2nd generation. They still identify themselves as being culturally Nepali but are more comfortable going out in the larger communities. When they grow up, they tend to be more democratic. They are generally educated about the functions of the government in schools and, unlike their parents, are eager to participate in the democratic process of the country that they are citizens of. But, if these percenters can’t keep their characteristics of their roots and origin, there is a chance that they would assimilate–melt away.
Colors of the first generation
This write up on the identity spectrum is going to be incomplete without deciphering the very first generation. The “1st generation” who enter the States independently at 18 and older, are loosely categorized as the first generation and they largely set the course for their children– integration or assimilation. But before starting this conversation, let me just state this for the record that most of the 1st generation Nepalis I have met are extremely hard working and really trying their best to survive with integrity in the States.
Our approach to living life is greatly influenced by many factors but here I am trying to explain just how the age of arrival impacts who we are as Nepricans overall. Since we all are different and have varied experiences fitting us all Nepricans into specific boxes is not the intention of this writeup.
Let us start with those of us who came to the States at the early stages of our lives as adults– 18 to early 30s. We were either in college or were barely scratching our professions in Nepal so we still had enough time to think of our own lives after the arrival. We likely had some experience with American colleges and most likely were unmarried or without children so naturally we kept our own lives at the center and explored our careers. This group is very close to 1.25ers in experience in that sense. We likely had a better footing and acceptance to transition into our American societies because of our age and or education. We likely dealt with less racism because college is one of the most acceptable spaces and we likely transitioned into our respective careers with a sense of achievement and acceptance right after college. We likely enjoyed the cities as adults, understood the essence of the American dream more, and followed our friends and colleagues to suburbs seeking better education and schools for our children.
Those of us who came in our late 30s to early 40s, most likely came with our children. The pressure of keeping food on the table and paying bills became a barrier to our education. We likely kept our children at the center of everything and most likely placed our unrealized dreams on them. And since we arrived a little late in the US, we most likely had a career that we possibly were excelling at but that could have been stalled in transition because of the language barrier and skill sets that were not transferable to the States. We are often stuck at odd jobs that are less fulfilling. We often are dissatisfied with our lives and move from one city to another or even one State to another with our children in tow in search of the American dream that we had downloaded while in Nepal.
Most of us in this group gather and talk about our Nepal days. We brag about who we were in Nepal and which politicians we knew and lament the loss of our perceived social status. This is a group that runs to the airport to welcome our “dear leaders” from Nepal and have such a poor outlook of our self worth that we feel the association with these leaders and the pictures with them on social media provide us fulfillment. I believe in some ways it undercuts the sense of loss we undergo in our everyday rat race. We often have such a low sense of value of ourselves that we generally convey our status in jewelries and mostly talk about the new stuff that we have recently acquired. Most of us are a little too material focused and have created an ecosystem within our communities to sell services and products to each other based on our comfort zone created because of proximity and our own limitations.
Those of us who have arrived in the States in our late 40s and early 50s are the most vulnerable. The sense of loss is higher in these Nepricans because we were most likely at the pinnacle of our careers in Nepal. Since we live in our own little bubbles, we are very much disconnected with American society. Most of us are in the US in body only– we live and breathe and survive in Nepal. We often are living in the States physically just because of our children and are the most siloed when it comes to American living. We are very much functioning with the software that was installed in Nepal and are stuck with it. There is hardly any possibility of an update even though some of us might have brains with a sweet spot. We often are nosy and ask very personal questions to others easily and mostly talk about people or politicians that we knew in Nepal. Since we are most likely residing in “gateway cities” and or out of the white zipcodes, we hardly have any interactions with caucasians and therefore we associate highly with having white neighbors and friends. If you have experienced a party where a couple of whites are surrounded by Nepricans, like bees swarm their Queen, you know what I am talking about. Since we Nepricans in this category rarely get a chance to be a part of the American broader fabric, we struggle to connect with our decimal generation or the 2nd generation children, especially true if they do not speak Nepali.
The sense of loss is much higher in those of us Nepalis who arrived in the States in our late 40s and early 50s because we were most likely at the pinnacle of our careers in Nepal.
In a nutshell, the colors of the Neprican transition spectrum that I have experienced do not quite mix well in parties and gatherings. We act like the colors of rainbows– beautiful as a whole but very distinct. We try to superimpose our colors around but are generally content with our own little bubbles inside the Neprican spectrum and hardly seek to understand the other neighboring colors in the spectrum. If you live in the States, next time you are at a party or a big gathering, experience it yourself. You would quickly assess your space in the spectrum you feel comfortable fitting in. That, in some ways, tells you where you belong, if you are still wondering your color on the spectrum. There is not much room for a critical curious thinker who does not neatly prescribe to the values of the respective colors in the Neprican spectrum. You are either in or out. Let us try to explore that next!
(If you have come this far you might as well want to read the first Neprican Voice column “Neprican voice: Love, life, nostalgia and the pursuit of an American dream” that received more than 3k shares.)
Mukesh Baral is a Co-Founder and Executive Director at Advocacy for Refugee and Immigrant Services for Empowerment (ARISE) and lives with his family in Massachusetts. He can be reached at [email protected]
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