The following piece is an opinion and does not reflect the views of The Eagle and its staff. All opinions are edited for grammar, style and argument structure and fact-checked, but the opinions are the writer’s own.
When I saw my older Indian friends go to college, I noticed how their majority-white friend groups at home completely shifted to almost entirely first-generation South Asian students at college. They would tell me about how this change allowed for such a difference in the way they connected with their identity. So, when I was a wide-eyed freshman coming to American University, I assumed the same thing would happen to me.
I grew up in Iowa, where there weren’t many South Asians in my community. Most of the South Asian families I knew were friends of my parents. I typically made a lot of friends through school and other activities, so I would normally see my Indian friends on holidays or occasional get-togethers.
When I came to the University that first semester, I joined the South Asian Student Association and other Asian-focused clubs to connect more with my Asian peers. However, there were many differences in the way many of us had been raised. A lot of these people had come from heavily Indian majority places and had grown up with a deep connection to their Indian culture and community. I felt like I was missing a key element that bound them together.
It was almost shocking to hear about how many of the Asian students I met were raised in such deeply rooted Indian communities within the U.S. In my head, it led me to think I wasn’t Indian enough to be friends with them; they knew more about Indian religions and politics. To me, they seemed to know more about what it meant to be Indian.
I spent far more time than I’d like to admit stuck in that mindset. When I finally shared my reasoning with a friend, she was shocked.
She explained that being Indian is not measured by how much one knows, but by a feeling we all share that links us. We were all raised with similar ways of thinking, albeit to varying extents, even if our experiences are different. At our core, we can connect because we have a shared identity and history.
There was nothing wrong with the friends that I had made. They represented a wide variety of my other identities, but I was so hyper-focused on the idea that my Indian identity was the one I was supposed to be embracing in college. When it did not instantly happen, I assumed it was my fault because I was not Indian enough.
My Indian identity is not defined by the number of Indian friends I have, but by how I feel about that part of myself. My identity is about sharing and explaining my culture to my friends who aren’t Indian and learning about our differences in a positive light. It is the ability to understand that everyone has multiple identities and none of them trump another; instead, they all work in harmony to make each individual who they are.
Almost two years later, I can confidently say I am Indian enough. Even if all of my friends aren’t Indian, I can still be close to both my culture and identity.
Understanding that it can take time to learn more about who you are and what your identities mean to you should go without saying. And taking that time is okay. Allowing yourself to take the time and space to understand what your identities mean to you is critical, no matter the pressure you feel from the different communities around you. Every individual is their own person and should take the time they need to become the fullest version of themselves — it does not automatically happen.
Ritika Shroff is a junior in the School of Public Affairs and a columnist for The Eagle.
This article was edited by Quinn Volpe, Alana Parker, Neil Lazurus and Walker Whalen. Copy editing done by Sabine Kanter-Huchting, Ariana Kavoossi and Emma Brown.
