Multicultural “Trip” Offers Opportunities for Dialogue with Child

Published in Centre Daily Times, State College, PA (March 6, 2004)

I embarked on an eye-opening journey two Decembers ago, when my daughter’s preschool celebrated cultures from all around the world. It was a wonderful month for the kids as they “traveled” around the world. It was a great opportunity for parents to build positive attitudes towards the diverse cultures in the USA – I loved to imagine that these would one day get us closer to true liberty and justice for all.

My family dutifully signed up for India, and began our preparations. On the big day, my daughter dressed up in Indian clothes, I packed up my presentation material and hands on activity, my snacks, and was just about ready, when my daughter burst out with questions, “Amma, who is an Indian? Are you an Indian? Am I an Indian? Are people who live in India Indian?”

It was a watershed event in our family. My husband and I had been conducting an experiment, where we had talked about different countries, but not used any adjectives to describe the people who lived in them.

We had talked about India, China, Korea and USA (four countries that we have been to with our daughter) and the “people” who live there without using any adjectives. We used “people” to describe all of humanity, and had been waiting to see if our child would classify people, and if so, at what age, and based on what? Would it be based on differences in physical features like skin color/ eye shape/ hair texture or language /customs/ religion/ geography/ something/ nothing else?

Our daughter’s classification started in response to the external stimulus of the “India day” celebration. We talked that day about who an Indian was and who an American was. The dialogue continued till I dropped her off at school, and continued when I picked her up.

By the end of that “Holiday Season,” she declared that she had “understood. All the children in my school are Americans and all the parents are from different countries. Is that right, Amma?”

“Well, you are almost right…,” and we talked about exceptions to that rule, about grandparents, great grandparents, cultural origins, Columbus and Native Americans.

Our dialogue continued. After a trip to an Asian grocery store around the same time, our daughter announced that there were only four Americans in the store, referring to the three of us, and another person of European origin in the store. All the others were of Chinese origin, and I explained to her that they may be Americans too. And the person of European origin may not be an American.

Then she declared “Some people think that only white people are Americans. They are wrong.” Another step taken in a long journey, and I felt glad that she had the opportunity to understand this truth so young, for I have met so many adults that have not figured this one out yet.

Over the past two years, her journey has continued, as she ties to understand people and things. Her questions have increased over time and last year, when we celebrated Diwali, the Hindu Festival of Lights, she asked me “if it was an Indian festival.”

“Yes.” “… because Indian people celebrate It?”

“Yes.” “Is it an American festival?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because many Americans celebrate it. Did you know that Christmas is an Indian festival too?”

“Because lots of Indians celebrate it?”

I then told her how I had 10 days of holidays from school in India, for both Diwali and Christmas.

The dialogue then continued with “Is Hannukah an American Festival?” and “Do Native Americans live in State College?”

Our family has had many discussions over the last two years, and my daughter has a better understanding of the complexity of our origins and our world.

Our dialogue on who an American is, was put to test recently.

A new friend walked up to my daughter in a park and said, “Where are you from?” I wondered what she would say. I heard her reply, “I am from here. I am an American.”

Then the other girl talked to her about a visit to England. And they both ran off to play.

So, a big thank you to all our schools that have the “Holiday Month,” or provide opportunities to discuss cultures from around the world. I am sure they have enriched discussions in many of our homes and taken us on some wonderful journeys, while building ethnic and cultural pride in all our children, and humanizing all of us.

A Festival of Lights

Originally Posted on the Common Threads Blog
Centre Daily Times, Nov 12, 2007

This past week, my husband, daughter and I celebrated Deepavali (also known as Diwali) – the Festival of Lights.

For most of the 900 million Hindus around the world, and for 2 million Hindu Americans, Deepavali is a major festival, spread out over five days, and celebrated with special prayers and rituals, lights, decorations, fireworks and of course food.

It is also a day of significance for around 4 million Jains the world over - as the day on which their founder, Mahavira, attained salvation. It is also a day of importance for around 23 million Sikhs the world over, as the day when one of their religious leaders, or Gurus, attained freedom from captivity.

Deepavali, which gets its name from the Sanskrit Deepa, meaning light, and Avali, meaning row, celebrates the victory of Good over Evil, which is symbolized by bringing light into darkness. The word is today also shortened to Diwali in many parts of India.

In Mumbai (Bombay) where I grew up, schools were closed for about 10–14 days. Adults got a day or two off work. Deepavali day at our house started with a ritual bath in the morning before sunrise, with special oil massages before the bath. This was followed by the bursting of fireworks, and a day of fun and festivity. Rows of clay lamps were lit on our window sills and doorways, and neighbors, friends, and family exchanged homemade sweets and snacks with each other.

In State College, we celebrated the holiday this year by lighting lamps at home, preparing special food on one day, bursting fireworks after dinner with friends on another day, and then celebrating on a third day, with an evening of performances and dinner, organized by the Hindu Students Council on Campus.

The celebrations put together by the Hindu Student Council, a Penn State Student group, were especially touching to the heart. The event provided a common space for those celebrating the festival, in the midst of a larger community, whose calendar and rhthyms of life, do not include Diwali.

The diverse performances - which included a skit, dances, chanting of prayers, and vocal and instrumental music - gave both the performers and the audience an opportunity to pause and create a special memory, while commemorating their own cultural and religious traditions.

And it also provided a wonderful opportunity to share these traditions with those who were of different ethnic or religious origins. And there are surely few ways better than sharing music, dance and food - as first steps for building bridges between people in an atmosphere of respect and celebration.

Lost in Translation ?

Posted originally in the Common Threads Blog,
Centre Daily Times on Feb 6, 2007

Two recent articles in the CDT – about moves from NY city to State College, and from State College to Omaha, Nebraska – had me thinking about our commonality of experience – of leaving familiar territory, and having to make a strange place familiar. Most students at Penn State can definitely relate to this.

Now imagine making this kind of transition with one more caveat – moving not from another state in the US, but from another country.

3237 students out of the 41795 students at Penn State (or 7.7%) made this journey, from a mind boggling 129 countries, in 2004-05, the latest year for which I could find detailed statistics.

The 661 students from China, 607 from Korea, 588 from India, 226 from Taiwan, 143 from Turkey, 94 Canada, 82 from Japan, 65 from UK, 62 from Malaysia, 61 from Thailand and the remaining 26% from 119 other countries make many transitions in the journey of trying to be at home in State College.

These transitions include finding the doctor, dentist, and hair stylist, making friends, adjusting to new ways of living, weather patterns, food and so much more - but perhaps the most difficult transition they make is that of becoming a “foreign” or “international” student from the “regular” and perhaps “smart” student that they were used to being.

And the fact that sometimes the adjective “foreign” supersedes all other adjectives that could describe the individual that they are, in the interactions with some people in their new home.