Growing up “Desi” in America
By SHAYAAN KASHIF ‘26
Courtesy of Shayaan Kashif
“We’ll just take one kid’s soda, please.” said my mom to the cashier. My brother and I sighed once again, dejected at the thought of having to crane our heads over the small cup and differentiate between whose straw was whose. Somehow, no matter how many times we pleaded to her to buy us separate drinks, it never happened. After all, in her words, “refills are free!”. The easy answer for that would just be frugality, but that seemed too facile of an answer. My mom definitely wasn’t a penny pincher. I’d reassured myself with the simple answer my entire life, but getting older and more mature, I looked deeper. I’ve grown up in a “Desi” family my entire life. My parents immigrated from Pakistan to the UK after getting married, and that’s where my brother and I were born and we lived until I was 7. At that age, we moved to the States.
While growing up in the West and becoming immersed in the culture, I have also picked up and understood the heritage of my family. Out of my many cousins, I’m the only second-generation kid to not only understand our native language of Urdu, but also speak it. I’ve noticed that it’s brought me closer to my grandparents and it makes them feel less alienated in conversation. The familiar language makes them easy to talk to and discuss the modern world without intimidating them. In that sense, I’ve taken up the role of a cultural “translator” - while everyone in my family speaks English, most of those who grew up in Pakistan can have a hard time understanding customs and cultural nuances here. While I didn’t look down upon them for this lack of knowledge, I’d always thought the reason behind it was the refusal to take the time to learn more about the culture. Of course, this can be a part of it at times, but I’ve come to the realization that there’s more to look at.
My mom’s insistence on sharing a single (usually complimentary) kid’s soda wasn’t due to frugality, but more so the fact that she didn’t see the reason to spend more. Sure, it was only a couple dollars, but she’d grown up valuing those dollars more than an admittedly minor inconvenience. Whether it be a soda at a restaurant, a discounted price, or the best gas station, we could afford to spend those extra couple of dollars, but my parents were simply following the same habitual lifestyles as those before them. It made more sense to me when we visited Pakistan - there definitely wasn’t extreme poverty in the rapidly developing country, but it was clear there wasn’t more than enough to go around for everyone. Blackouts and shortages were common, and all of a sudden, I understood why the culture was like that. The average American had so much available to them that, as living standards went up, there wasn’t as much of a need to count every cent. However, less well-off countries like Pakistan are only seeing that rise in standards now, while Western countries saw it over a century ago.
In a way, I think it’s important to give credit to my parent’s largely immigrant generation. The word “Desi” was first used to describe them, as they progressively picked and chose the best parts of both their own culture, and the western culture which they were becoming immersed in. For example, my grandparents were very rigid on traditional values of filial respect and piety, which are slowly becoming more relaxed with my parent’s generation as they find the ideal balance to both help their children grow and discipline them properly.
Two values that have stuck, however, are both the unfettered hospitality and strong focus on academics. In our country, it’s seen as the norm to invite even distant acquaintances in for tea, which leads to people knowing each other very well and having strong social networks. While my parents understand that’s not the case here, the mentality behind that stays with them. A sense of imposter syndrome often occurs, due to them feeling obliged to recompense actions that I see as my rights as an American. The problem is, many first-generation Americans don’t want to be seen as leeches, so will often strive to return the favor, unable to trust that a small favor is, in fact, nothing more than an act of good faith. That’s also because of the colonial past that has left a permanent print on the nation. Even that has begun to change, but one thing that I know is unlikely to falter is our focus on academics.
The only path to the freedom of the American Dream was tons of hard work for them, something which I believe warrants massive respect. That academic focus has been passed on through the generations, and it continues with me and my brother. My parents raised me to be curious, inquisitive, and understand the importance of learning, things which I’ve realized the relevance of to my life and to that of others and have taken into heartfelt consideration in every decision I’ve ever made.
As I’ve grown older, the fusion of the two different lifestyles in my world has had an immense impact on me and changed my perspective in massive ways. Many of my parents’ experiences, actions, and mannerisms have taught me to be grateful for the comfortable lives we lead, for I understand that not everyone is as privileged to have the same life. More than that, many of the seemingly miserly decisions they make aren’t intentional, rather just something they’ve internalized, much to the dismay of my brother and I. So, while I probably won’t stop asking for my own separate soda any time soon, at least now I know the real reason why I’ll rarely get one.
