GRIZZLY PEAR

written snapshots

Growing up Other

I came across an interesting blog post Hardship and Meaning by Daniel Miessler postulating that hardship might produce a certainty of meaning that seems to be lacking among more prosperous folks in America.

I found the premise reasonable, but I’d curious about the levels of depression among the non-immigrant poor. Is their experience like immigrants, given their similar economic struggles, or is it more like other natives in the middle class?

Non-immigrants are often blind to the strangeness of their native cultures. Aside from the luck of being born into the middle class in America, I think that I’ve been able to reasonably manage the ups and downs of life because my childhood gave me a visceral experience that American culture is merely one option among many choices. My parents were deeply religious and we attended a white church. Even though everyone was in tight theological alignment, our family maintained a cultural identity quite distinct from most of the congregation.

While being “other” came with many awkward moments while growing up, it was also greatly beneficial to viscerally understand the concept of culture as an artificial construct. What seems “universally natural” is only normal to one’s own people. The children of immigrants are the fish that see the water.

In that vein, I tend to find myself drawn to other immigrants. One of the more interesting examples is a white coworker with whom I had developed a close relationship. It took a few years before I found out that his parents were from Europe and that English was not his language at home. Even though our political views were quite divergent, this basic experience of “otherness” was an unspoken foundation of our relationship.

Conversely, I’ve also found myself having a surprisingly difficult time relating to some immigrants who moved the States as adults. They often carry themselves with a certain self assuredness that comes from being part of the majority dominant culture during their formative years. In spite of other cultural similarities, I can have a difficult time viscerally relating to them.

It is a dangerous game to play armchair psychologist (especially in public). I’m certain that growing up as “other” inflicted psychic mental trauma that I’m ignoring, and I should also note that I’m lucky since the burden of my minority is quite mild compared to the stereotypes that other groups endure. The contentious online world usually focuses on the downsides of such an upbringing, so I hope it was worth exploring some of the benefits.

It’s not fun growing up different, but there is deep value in knowing that no normal is universal – every group of “we” is a little bit weird.