Indian American - Finding True Identity...
By Anurag Gupta, Special Contributor

As a bewildered freshman last year, I attended an APASS (Asian Pacific American Student Support) meeting to become acquainted with other new faces on-campus. At the meeting, a student asked me what I was doing at there since I was not Asian; I was Indian. Unsure about how to respond, I gave him the general answer about India’s geographical location in Asia but, at the same time, his comment raised a question in my mind: What exactly does it mean to be “Asian,” not only at NYU, but in America at large? Should people of Indian origin identify themselves as Asian or Indian?

A small minority within the Indian American community is quite persistent in wanting Indians incorporated within Asians and the Asian American movement at large. Their argument claims that by associating with Asian Americans, Indians can use the well-funded and established Asian American cultural and legal institutions, in addition to having a larger political clout to fight for shared interests in immigration policy, hate-crimes, and stereotypical depictions of “Asians” in the American media. And yet there are others that say that Indians have no choice but to join the Asian American movement simply because the United States census counts Indians as Asians.

Yet, with all of this said and done, are the concerns of the larger Indian American community similar to those of their Asian counterparts? Would a Japanese American student be willing to protest brand-name clothing because of their demeaning representation of Hindu Gods? Or would an Indian American woman be concerned with the rising exploitation of Chinese workers in American sweat shops? This question of whether Indians should be part of what we call “Asian” has been a great distraction to the Asian American movement.

I think the problem lies within the holds of the Indian community. Asian Indian Americans (even the term sounds awkward) fail to understand that political and cultural recognition cannot be gained by having other people fight your battles. Whether Indians like it or not, Chinese, Japanese and Koreans will always define the mainstream Asian American movement. The Asian American movement does not only allow Indian Americans to integrate into mainstream America and claim a slice of the American pie, but it asks us to fight for the crumbs of the much smaller Asian American pie. However, this is an overtly ambitious and unattainable scheme. It is ludicrous to expect a refugee from Bangladesh to feel some magical affinity towards his Taiwanese neighbor, or for a Sikh taxi driver to realize commonalities with Japanese sushi chefs. There are enormous cultural, religious, and linguistic barriers between them created by inherent ethnic differences. East Asians are bound by racial ties and, to a lesser degree, by cultural influences of Confucianism and Daoism. Indians don’t share this with them. I am comfortable, or “at home,” when I walk by traditional fashion emporiums and cheap curry houses in Jackson Heights, Queens. Whereas, in Chinatown, I am an outsider who mispronounces almost everything on the restaurant’s menu, while receiving blank stares from shopkeepers, struggling to understand differences between Mandarin and Cantonese.

In addition, Indians lack the historical “Asian American Experience” which has led to the modern Asian American movement; they have neither experienced racial segregation like Japanese Americans during the Second World War nor worked to build transcontinental railroads like the predecessors of many modern Chinese Americans. The surge of Indian immigration took place in light of the 1960s Civil Rights Movements, and their identity stems from this distinct experience in America. Asian American expansionism, as labeled by the American Census, naively clusters these historical and cultural experiences into one bowl, and discredits the celebration and understanding of numerous differences between members of the “Asian” and “Indian” community.

Yet, one may ask, why does Asian American identity come at the expense of an Indian American identity? Why can’t we be both Indian American and Asian American? I think this is a very valid question; however, it overlooks the most important and crucial fact that Indian Americans have yet to forge a coherent identity of their own. Unlike Filipino, Vietnamese, Korean Americans, we as a people cut loose from the Indian Subcontinent have severed ourselves by region, language and religion. How can we force-feed a communal affinity towards Chinese Americans when there remains extensive gap between Bengalis and Punjabis? Between Muslims and Hindus? Between people who arrived from India as opposed to Guyana or former British African colonies? And between Indians who were born in the United States and those who were born in India?

The truth about Indians’ infatuation with “Asian America” is a feeling of shame in their own cultural heritage. Better Luck Tomorrow depicts the lives of some average Asian American teenagers in America, but even if an Asian Indian wanted to he could not fit himself in that picture. His life, although largely misrepresented, would be identifiable to the characters in American Desi. Coming to an understanding of these differences, we can learn two things from contemporary American identity politics: first is that the most powerful ethnic interest groups are built on shared ties of history, customs and culture, or at least the understanding of such shared ties. Second, that successfully mobilized groups often retain some affinity with their country of origin (e.g. Israelis, Italians, Irish, Poles). The Asian American movement fails both these tests. The interests of our countries of origin are often in direct conflict. The fuzziness of an Asian American identity prevents us from influencing US policies on trade and proliferation that affect our families in India, and creates interest-clash within the distinct communities “Asian America” now represents.

We have to come to terms with the fact that “Asian” represents something distinct within America, and Indians are faulty part of it. At the same time, fostering a stronger Indian American identity does not mean quarrelling with the Asian American movement, but choosing allies depending on the issue at hand. I feel that the question raised at the APASS meeting was a very valid one. I am not an Asian American; I am an Indian American, and as an Indian American, I feel that we can only achieve political and cultural recognition and distinction when we learn to acknowledge our weaknesses and build upon our strengths. Our weaknesses include an inability to move beyond petty regional and religious divisions and unwillingness to accept that though many Indians are doctors and software engineers, many also drive taxis and wait on tables. Our strengths lie in our relative affluence, strong cultural ties, educational achievements, geographical concentration, rapidly growing numbers and large representation in key sectors of the American economy.

On final thought, creating an “Indian American” identity is dependent upon our choices. I have made mine by choosing Ismail Merchant over Jackie Chan, Arundhati Roy over Amy Tan, and Masla Dosa over Lo Mein.