Dating american indian men
What would an aspiring writer and an aspiring cardiologist talk about over coffee, anyway? It was my fault; I asked him what he wanted to do with his life. I wanted to talk about my favorite piece of prose from "Pride and Prejudice" and about why I feel sad sometimes and don't know why.A clearly very smart guy, he looked at me with blank stares after he asked me about my interests. But whenever I started on any of my favorite things, he would tune out.
If you possess all the right qualities, the caste/creed/education/social strata his mother would approve of, he will decide you are the only one for him.It saddens me to see there are still people out there who can be so narrow-minded, so judgmental about the highly personal romantic decisions of others. It's a struggle for anyone who doesn't know how much of their parents' culture they should fuse with the culture in which they were brought up.At the end of the day, each and every one of us is conditioned to think, act and feel a certain way because of the respective ways in which we were raised. Sometimes referred to as "internalized racism," it's the allegation that you believe the stereotypes that the world has created of your own kind, so you resist your own kind. Until that happens, I'm going to keep doing what I've always done. And I'll tell you this: I'm certainly not the only girl who struggles with cultural identity and self-acceptance.Well, I suppose I resist my own kind because of two things: all the bad dates I've been on with brown men and the fact that I'm not into my culture's idea of what a pristine Indian man "should" be like (ie. We live in a world where interracial dating is more widely accepted than ever before. This struggle I have is also an immigrant struggle.His ego and his gang insist he is God’s answer to you, if not all women kind. If the romance continues, the next showing will be the light-green monster, the brother of jealousy (he is the dark green one), Mr Possessiveness.
He will want an account of every second you are not together.
According to the Pew Research Center, 40.6 percent of Indian-Americans over the age of 25 have graduate or professional degrees, which makes us one of the most highly educated ethnic groups in America.
I am not a "highly educated" person (well, not according to conventional standards, anyway. And I never to be; I was always the artist, the social outcast, the brown girl different from most brown guys who were on their way to pursuing a steady job and a steady income in law or medicine or business. I liked to talk about indie-pop artists; they liked to talk about which Mercedes they were saving up to buy. Simply put, brown guys and I had little-to-nothing in common besides our brown skin color. There was this brown guy named Rohit*, the first of three Indian guys I've ever dated, whom I met in college. One day, I had a beer with him while he talked my ear off about capital management and private equity.
They usually had familial support to pursue their dreams.
They didn't have to deal with an added layer of pressure to go through years of schooling, against their will, with the end goal of earning hundreds of thousands of dollars, because their parents didn't come to America from a developing country with certain expectations of their children.
They essentially accuse me of being racist against my own kind. If I met an Indian guy I could talk to, I would give him a chance.