assimilation
"The thought that life could be better is woven indelibly into our hearts and our brains."
--Paul Simon
I finished reading a very interesting book this past weekend which has raised a lot of thoughts and questions into my mind. Thoughts and questions that it's taken me entirely way too long to realize have always been hidden in the back of my mind. Ones that I've pushed aside because I didn't want to have to examine them.
The book dealt with the idea of not belonging to a culture. And the constant frustrations that develop when in the process of trying to "blend in," you're continuously called out for your "foreignness." And yet, while you're ashamed of this supposed "foreignness" and attempting to "blend in," you're not quite willing to give in. And so in the end, you become a stranger to both cultures. Your native culture no longer feels comfortable and right, and this new one feels just as uncomfortable. So where does that leave you?
It was even more identifiable since it dealt with a Persian family, although I know other cultures deal with this same problem. For years I've struggled to identify myself. I've never felt comfortable around other Persians, ashamed of my accent when trying to speak Farsi, never feeling like my face identified me as a full Persian, never quite knowing just how to behave. And yet the same feelings arise when I'm around Americans. I'm called out because of my different looks. I constantly struggle to find the right words, when what I truly want to say just can't be translated. Yes, I am an immigrant, but what do I truly know of my native land? And where is my native land anyways? Iran, the land of my parents, which I have never set foot in? Italy, the country that provided my birth certificate? Or America, the country that has raised me since I was 2 months old?
In a country that should celebrate our differences, our unique backgrounds and ethnicities, why is it that everyone is just trying to fit in? I am so tired of not knowing where I belong. I am so tired of fumbling to answer other people's ignorant questions.
Right now, I just want to be able to converse with someone in my own mix of my two languages and not have to worry about finding the right words to express what I feel. I want some mahst and polo to fill my still-hungry stomach. And maybe a little old-school Persian music in the background wouldn't hurt at all.
--Paul Simon
I finished reading a very interesting book this past weekend which has raised a lot of thoughts and questions into my mind. Thoughts and questions that it's taken me entirely way too long to realize have always been hidden in the back of my mind. Ones that I've pushed aside because I didn't want to have to examine them.
The book dealt with the idea of not belonging to a culture. And the constant frustrations that develop when in the process of trying to "blend in," you're continuously called out for your "foreignness." And yet, while you're ashamed of this supposed "foreignness" and attempting to "blend in," you're not quite willing to give in. And so in the end, you become a stranger to both cultures. Your native culture no longer feels comfortable and right, and this new one feels just as uncomfortable. So where does that leave you?
It was even more identifiable since it dealt with a Persian family, although I know other cultures deal with this same problem. For years I've struggled to identify myself. I've never felt comfortable around other Persians, ashamed of my accent when trying to speak Farsi, never feeling like my face identified me as a full Persian, never quite knowing just how to behave. And yet the same feelings arise when I'm around Americans. I'm called out because of my different looks. I constantly struggle to find the right words, when what I truly want to say just can't be translated. Yes, I am an immigrant, but what do I truly know of my native land? And where is my native land anyways? Iran, the land of my parents, which I have never set foot in? Italy, the country that provided my birth certificate? Or America, the country that has raised me since I was 2 months old?
In a country that should celebrate our differences, our unique backgrounds and ethnicities, why is it that everyone is just trying to fit in? I am so tired of not knowing where I belong. I am so tired of fumbling to answer other people's ignorant questions.
Right now, I just want to be able to converse with someone in my own mix of my two languages and not have to worry about finding the right words to express what I feel. I want some mahst and polo to fill my still-hungry stomach. And maybe a little old-school Persian music in the background wouldn't hurt at all.