FINDING MY PIECES Uncovering my cultural identity in the books I read
lanithi, Atul Gawande and Siddartha trates the journey of an Indian American kid Mukherjee. Weeks after the incident, I named Gogol who is named after a Russian he tears were streaming down first picked up When Breath Becomes author and spends his entire life struggling my face as I faced the back Air in which the author, Dr. Paul Kala- to come to terms with the unwanted comwall, wiping my face and hoping nithi, is a Tamil American who went to plexity that comes with being a born and no one saw me, wishing that I wasn’t Stanford and is now completing do- bred American, but also having rich Indian ing his residen- heritage. I identified with Gogol so intimatewho I was. cy to become a ly because he too struggled with having two My name is neurosurgeon. names:, Gogol and Nikhil. Gogol hates that Joan, a conHe is the epit- his name is obscure and that it is neither ventionally ome of every- American nor Bengali, just as I feel with the white, ChrisFINDING MY thing the typical name Joan. I feel rootless; attached to notian name Indian Ameri- where; an anomaly. My Indian name, Mridthat I have PIECES can should be, hula, became my little beacon, shouting to loved for all but his love for the world that “I’m here, I’m Indian, don’t of my life. But JOAN THYAGARAJAN literature and forget about me!” Having someone—fictiat that mohis ability to tious or not—who could relate to me gave ment I hated it. As a first generation Indian Amer- achieve excellence as described by such a tremendous feeling of companionican who does not speak Tamil (my all stereotypes while still exploring his ship that I had never felt before. While I parents’ mother tongue) I rely on my passions encouraged me to explore always knew that there were other people who were probably going thick black hair, chocolate skin, and what I wanted through similar experiencbig eyes to prove that I’m Indian, to. There was THROUGH MODERN LIT- es as I was exploring my but that day it hadn’t been enough. such an unforidentity, having it explicitly We were discussing the origin of our gettable culture ERATURE, I FOUND PEOPLE addressed and on paper in names in World History and when I shock in being WHO WENT THROUGH THE front of me was completely brought up my Indian name, Mridhu- able to relate to SAME CONFLICTING EMOdifferent. The books were la, one of my classmates exclaimed a character so TIONS AND CONSTANT ACwritten proof that I was not that he could not believe I was Indi- deeply that for CEPTANCE, REFUSAL AND the only person who felt an and he had always thought I was months I reread like they were never Indian Black. That day fueled the embar- that book al- DESPERATION FOR THEIR enough. My confidence in HERITAGE AND ASSIMILArassment and shame I burdened my- most everyday. While living TION IN AMERICA. owning my Indian heritage self with over my culture. I was mad at grew exponentially. my heritage for giving me such dark in the Bay Area JOAN THYAGARAJAN There are still a lot of brown skin; I was mad at my parents means that I books I have left to read, for never calling me my Indian name; have met my I was mad at myself for just not being fair share of fellow first generation and as I do, I hope that I see a little fragIndian Americans, I had never gone ment of myself in every single one Indian enough. From a young age my heritage into such depth while exploring the confused me. I was American, but complexity of my dichotomous I did not look like the stereotypical identity. However, through American kids I grew up seeing on modern literature, I found Nickelodeon and the Disney Chan- people who went through nel. I grew up facing constant im- the same conflicting emoposter syndrome in both the Indian tions and constant accepand American aspects of my identity. tance, refusal and desperOnly in high school, when I began to ation for their heritage and diversify my reading, did I see myself assimilation into America. The second book that encourbeing reflected in the content I consumed. While I still loved J.K. Rowl- aged me to explore the two sides of ing, Suzanne Collins and John Green, my life was an AP Lit required read I mixed it up with works by Paul Ka- titled The Namesake. The book illus-
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