This was my speech for the Spoken Assignment.
New Home
I still remember the day my dad announced to us that we are moving to New York. My mom ran to my room and started jumping around. I was really surprised to see her in such an ecstatic state. “What happened Mom? Why are you so happy?”, I asked her in our native language, Kannada. She replied, “Teju! We are moving to New York!” My jaw dropped after hearing her response. I was awestruck. Are we really moving to New York? It was such a pretty place from what I had seen in movies and pictures. Growing up, I had always dreamt about moving to the U.S. someday but I never thought that it would be so soon. I joined my mother in jumping around the house because it was one of the happiest days of my life.
We moved here on February 10th, 2016. As excited as I was, I was also very nervous about settling into an entirely different continent with different cultures. Little did I realize that my adopted country would change me in the ways it has. I did not even realize that I had trouble distinguishing between the “w” and the “v” sound until my english teacher had pointed it out. I would pronounce the letters “v” and “w” as the letter “w” would be said. For example, I would say “wolts” instead of “volts” or “wenom” instead of “venom”. I toiled for months trying to perfect my pronunciation and get those two sounds to roll off my tongue. Today, as you can see hopefully, I am able to differentiate between the letters and use them appropriately.
Along with the positive changes came in the negative ones too. I struggled to understand the social norms and standards that were taught to Americans from a young age. One of the challenges was the American measurement system. One day, my classmates were having a discussion about how far their homes were from school and when it was my turn, I said, “Three kilometers!” My answer was followed by a bunch of sneers. The person sitting next to me said, “You mean three miles right?” I said, “I’m sorry I am not used to miles yet. In my country, we use kilometers.” In response the person replied, “No one cares what you used in your country. Just use miles.” I was taken back because I had not expected such a curt response. But I decided to not take much of it and just go about my day. A few days later, I asked one of my classmates, (in indian accent) “Hey, where can I buy water in school?” and they laughed in response. I was confused as to why they were laughing and they said, “Did you just say Waa-ttterrr? That’s funny.” I said, “Then how am I supposed to say it?” They replied, “It is said Wadder.” I was embarrassed. I was mocked for my Indian ways of speech twice in one week. That was the moment I assured myself that I will do anything it takes to assimilate into the American culture so that I never go through the feeling of alienation again. I watched American TV shows to perfect my American accent and spent extra time learning to switch to Miles, Fahrenheit, Pounds, and Ounces.
Although I felt Indian, I had an inkling that I was diverging away from my “Indianess”. I spent more time speaking English with my friends than Kannada at home which made me gain a slight American accent even on my mother tongue. I even started to dislike spending too much time at the temple. People struggled to say my name in school and I wished my name was an Anglican sounding name. One of my lunch mates said that my native food smelled weird and I wished my family ate more foods like pasta, sandwiches, and pizza. I took every criticism against my culture and tried to adapt to the American standards so that I felt accepted in this country. At some point, I wished that I was never Indian to begin with because then I wouldn’t have had to struggle with changing everything about myself.
One day in my Chemistry class, my teacher called on me, “Tejaswini, name an element that has a 3+ charge.” I knew the answer and I eagerly responded, “Aluminium!” The entire class burst into a short laughter. I was perplexed. Was I wrong? Did Aluminium not have a 3+ charge? I thought to myself. My teacher quieted the class down and said, “I think she meant to say Aluminum.” I kept quiet for the rest of the class because I felt really foolish. After some internet research, I learned that “Aluminum” was the American way of saying it whereas the rest of the world said “Aluminium.” I felt angry because even though I was right, I was still laughed at due to my Indian ways. That was the moment I had an epiphany. I realized that no matter how hard I tried to act American, at the end of the day, I will still be Indian. Instead of being ashamed, I realized that I should rather be proud of my heritage. That was the moment I decided to stop trying to fit in and rather just do my own thing. With this attitude, I’ve managed to hold on to the important parts of my Indian identity. Along the way, I met people who made me realize the importance of being Indian and I will forever be grateful.
