Kara Carter
Words & photos by Kara Carter
For first-generation children of immigrants, the journey of self-discovery is uniquely complex. These individuals often find themselves balancing the rich cultural traditions of their families with the expectations and norms of the society they live in. This duality can lead to unique challenges that highlight the nature of bicultural identity.
This highlights how I grew up with a mother who immigrated from Laos and a father from America. There’s an event which I often think back on. There was a knot in the pit of my stomach as my eyes scanned the backyard, I saw faces that look like mine, but darker. I heard people speaking in Lao to each other, and I didn’t understand—they stare at my brother and me.
We were at a family gathering, and most of my relatives are Laotian, many of them immigrants. My brother and I are half-Lao, and therefore we only feel half-welcome.
The event where my brother and I felt ostracized was actually a ceremony recognizing my aunt’s death. Our aunts and uncles were in traditional attire, and my cousins were decorated in semi-formal dresses and suits. My brother and I were wearing jeans.
Our mom rushed us to a table with silver and gold bowls. My uncle asked us where our offerings were. No one told us to bring anything. My aunts and uncles rallied around my brother and I, with bowls of fruits, vegetables and flowers. My aunt took off her pha biang, a traditional Laotian top, and tied it around me. I heard one of my uncles yell, “Hey, white boy!”, referring to my brother.
They then hurried us to another table with empty platters and monks in orange robes sitting on one side. We looked around– lost. They yelled at us to do whatever everyone else is doing. My brother and I tried to study everyone’s moves before it was our turn. Taking off our shoes, bowing to the monks, putting the food on the plate, and being careful not to accidentally disrespect anyone.
This memory was just one example of how I grew up in an in-between world, stuck between belonging and not belonging to every group I tried to be part of. I now know that I am not the only one who dealt with this struggle.
A research article published in 2020, Identity: An International Journal of Theory and Research, highlighted this issue of bicultural young adults and their struggles with identity. The study found that most people have conflicting issues when it comes to their identity, and some turn to a strategy called frame-switching. This is when a person switches the way they talk and behave in certain scenarios depending on who they are with. So, if a bicultural person is with one side of their family, they might act differently than if they are with another part of their family from a different culture.
Caleb Xayarath, who is Laotian and a child of immigrant parents, faces this similar issue. Xayarath shared that he is trying to hide his newfound religion from his family in fear of rejection. His grandparents raised him in the Buddhist faith, prayed multiple times a day and would frequent the Buddhist temple. But Xayarath recently converted to Christianity and fears if his grandparents find out, they will judge and ostracize him.
He is also one of the few people he knows that can speak fluent Lao. Xayarath said this was not easy and he tries to learn more words and phrases everyday to stay connected to his heritage and the older generation.
Xayarath shared it is difficult thinking about the future and how he can raise his future family with his Lao and American culture intertwined. He fears that the Lao language within his community will disappear with his generation and his family. Since Lao culture is heavily involved with Buddhism, he won’t be able to fully give his future family the Lao experience. They won’t go to temple, they won’t be able to do certain ceremonies when family members pass, and they won’t have the experience of being monks for different occasions, all because of his Christian faith.
According to studies published in the National Public Library of Medicine, children of immigrants are at risk for poor adjustment as they confront challenges of negotiating between host and ethnic cultures. The study also states, “Part of this negotiation is the result of acculturation, a process by which psychological and cultural change occurs from the contact between two different cultural groups and their members”.
Another young adult of Lao immigrants, Hunter Lithalangsy, has dealt with similar instances with his identity as well. His parents pushed him to pursue a career in the healthcare industry to become a pharmacist or nurse. Lithalangsy obtained student loan debt to receive a degree in biology, and has not used his degree in his field of work more than five years later after graduation. He does not have plans to go to medical school either. Lithalangsy feels that since he chose not to pursue medical school, his parents were put off from his choice. He is pursuing a career in design instead and getting specific certifications to “beef” up his resume. He said that it is still not enough for his parents—even though he is happier, less stressed and financially stable.
Lithalangsy’s experience is just one example of the three divergent paths of assimilation that is discussed in a study published in the American Academy of Political and Social Science. The study states there are three divergent paths of assimilation for children of South East Asian immigrants. The first path states that a person achieves assimilation by “reaching upward mobility towards the mainstream American middle class”.
The second path is where a person can “achieve economic success while adhering to their ethnic cultural values; these members are able to become successful, but they are not acculturated into American culture and its practices.” For example, Xayarath’s life and his grandparents expectations. They want him to become successful in his career but still hold to Lao and Buddhist values, making him hide his authentic self in fear of rejection.
The third path is where a person seeks a downward “assimilation to the cultures that are reflective of the disadvantaged native-born.” This is the path I relate to. I clearly needed help with a basic ceremony, I do not have a strong connection to my Lao heritage and it shows. My elders rallied around my brother and I because they pity us and our American ways. We wish to connect to our Lao heritage, but we are too assimilated into our American culture.
Reflecting on my experiences and those shared by others like Xayarath and Lithalangsy, it is obvious there is a balancing act of our bicultural identity and assimilation within our community. Our journeys highlight the sense of displacement felt within ourselves in navigating our cultural heritage and social belonging.
As we continue to navigate these hard discussions, stories like these serve as reminders of the complexities of the sense of belonging within our ever changing cultural climate.
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