Personal Narrative: The Acceptance Of My Indian Culture

I am a Native American born and raised in Jamestown, Virginia. It was always just my father and I, my mother passed away when I was an infant, so my father raised me to be an independent woman. My father is the head commander of the tribe. He only allowed me to go to the village near our tents. I never went further than the village, till this one day that I was feeling so curious about what was out there, so I decided to walk beyond the village to see what there is to explore.

Throughout my life, I have struggled with accepting my cultural identity. My parents were born and raised in India, but I was born here, in the United States, and hence, born an American citizen.

In the boiling pot of America most people have been asked “what are you?” when referring to one’s race or nationality. In the short story “Borders” by Thomas King he explores one of the many difficulties of living in a world that was stripped from his race. In a country that is as diverse as North America, culture and self-identity are hard to maintain. King’s short story “Borders” deals with a conflict that I have come to know well of. The mother in “Borders” is just in preserving her race and the background of her people. The mother manages to maintain her identity that many people lose from environmental pressure.

Culture has a significant role to play on one’s life and defines the character of a person, so being Indian-American, my world is split between two cultures, forcing me to play a dual role. For instance, I spend half-day at school living as an American, and at home experience a true Indian lifestyle. As an Indian in America, I face the world with self-identification issues, are open to a great selection of opportunities, and have an impact on society from the moment I was born.

A person has always been able to choose to what extent their cultural experiences affect their perspective. Amy Tan’s, “Two Kinds,” Bharati Mukherjee’s, “Two Ways to Belong in America,” and Robert Lake’s, “An Indian Father’s Plea,” all show how the main characters have chosen to let their experiences have an effect on their cultural identity. A person’s cultural experiences shape perception based on their own identifications and they may chose to assimilate to different cultures.

Throughout the book, Native American Voices written by Susan Lobo, Steve Talbot and Traci L. Morris, many of the authors emphasize the growing concept of identity and state that identity only exists through differences in relationships with others. Without these differences, we would be identified as the “same.” The social grouping of people happens all over the world, not only for Natives, but it is most near and dear to my heart. I have realized my differences from others through my own origins and cultural identity. Native Americans are coined under the same family, yet many of us see ourselves as people of our own tribes and nations, such as me being Sac and Fox. My personal identity grows from many different aspects of my own life. I believe I have an individual identity, as well as many complex identities which can be defined by class, gender, age, spiritual and

Now when I think about my ancestry or Native Americans in general, I think of my family and how people assume that we should live in a Teepee or on a reservation, I become reminded of the way Native Americans have been treated in the past, with the imbalance of power and unfairness within a culture inside a bigger culture.

While Mukherjee decided to embrace the new American culture, her sister decided to stick to her Indian roots. Mukherjee struggles to try and find where she belongs because she is always changing for others rather than for herself. Encountering differences is something she dealt with on her journey of creating her identity, she states, “Nearly 20 years ago, when I was living in my husband’s ancestral homeland of Canada, I was always well-employed but never allowed to feel part of the local Quebec or larger Canadian society” (Mukherjee 293). While changing herself to conform for others, we can all take a lesson from Mukherjee. In life, we go through many changes because we are growing up, becoming more mature, and finding things we like or dislike. We tend to change because of the people we surround ourselves with, like friends or coworkers in order to be accepted. However, she did not seem happy to be forced into a position where she had to conform to the way people would talk to her all for the sake of her husband. This takes away from building and developing one’s own identity because it does not represent who you really are. In society, we are sort of growing away from that in a sense people are taking pride in their identities. For instance, immigrants, women, and races are all

Recently I have been evaluating what I think to be my own racial and cultural identity. As a Caucasian of mostly German decent who grew up in the upper Midwest, I blended in with the majority of people around me. Due to this fact, I did not often think about race, and when I did it was thinking about how others were different than me and the rest of ‘us’. I was a product of my culture and the society surrounding me; I regret this thinking now, and do deeply apologize.

Growing up, I always felt like an outsider. I yearned for a sense of belonging, but I would always have to bring myself to a constant realization about the implication of my existence—I was black and white, not one or the other, but both. The continual task of “checking one box” on surveys and papers didn’t really help the situation either. Being the product of an African-American father and an Irish-American mother made me appreciate and understand all the variations of race and culture in the spectrum, but it also left me in this murky-gray area with no sense of direction—a feeling that most multiracial

Being a child of parents who are immigrants, tends to be troublesome when finding your cultural identity. Huwang agrees by saying, “ I identify with Americans, but Americans do not identify with me. I’ve never known what it’s like to belong to a community…” This statement captures my day to day internal struggle of who I am, an Indian or an American? Raised in an Indian household in an American environment I am torn between deciding which represents me as a whole. My family dictates that

“Don’t listen to them,” my grandmother said as she wiped the tears from my face and ran her fingers through my long, black hair. I remember the constant teasing from my peers in elementary school. Growing up in a predominately white neighborhood, my family and I were looked at differently because we were “people of color.” All of the parents who would drop their children off for school in the morning would stare at my father. Growing up, it was incredibly difficult to figure out who I was because I was Mexican and Caucasian with a Puerto Rican step father who raised me since I was three. Thus, his culture heavily influenced me as well. At family parties I was spoken to in English and Spanish with both Mexican and Puerto Rican dialects.

We must consider times at which belonging can threaten an individualised identity. For some, the only way to belong is to conform to expectations, losing personal ideologies as a result. In the book The Absolute True Diary of a Part – Time Indian, Junior is a perfect example of conforming in order to belong. Junior is just a poor Indian reservation kid who dreams of a better life and takes action by attending an all – white private school in Reardan. He is considered as a ‘traitor’ by his people and doesn’t find much hope when “somewhere on the road to Reardan, [he] became something less than Indian. And once [he] arrived at Reardan, [he] became something less than less than less than Indian.” Junior struggle to fit is exacerbated when the Indian people where he once belonged no longer accepts him as he has left them for the white people. The trouble is, he didn’t belong in the all white school either as his “life [was] a constant struggle between being an individual and being a member of the

The way I see it humans are just biotic machines where people from the first SECOND we are born to expect us to be used to be in their likeness or their standard of code. Luckily, due to a creation of identity and personality, people often never reach that likeness and become different. Cultural identity impacts us for our interests can make a person grow and gain traits. My cultural identity is made up by many factors, Mx-Bones and my mom impacted my life and guided me to be an artist and an aspiring scientist of some sort that is not confirmative and very curious.

I was born in the summer of 1964, to lower middle class parents, my mother was divorced with having left three young sons behind with her first husband. My father owned a very popular gas station and repair shop, by birth being the result of a torrid love affair, this topic remained in the gossip pool well into my twenties. I was kept in the dark until Jr. high school, my mother was forced to tell me part of her truth, after the principal sent a note home. My mother suffered from depression and substance abuse as a coping mechanism to sooth her pain. At the age of two my mother gave birth to my sister, although, my mother loved us, I believe her pain tortured her relentlessly. Soon my father choose alcohol to numb his