As part of SAMHIN’s mission to encourage open conversations about mental health and the challenges of dual cultural identities of second generation South Asians, we invited Suhana Shankar, a passionate advocate for mental health awareness, to share her perspective.

When people think of growing up in the Bay Area, they often imagine diversity. That wasn’t quite my experience.

I attended an affluent, predominantly white private high school in one of the wealthiest parts of the Bay Area. My parents chose the school because they wanted to give me every opportunity they could. They believed it would prepare me for college and set me up for success, and in many ways it did. What none of us realized at the time was the social and emotional impact that environment would have on my relationship with my identity.

Like most teenagers, I desperately wanted to fit in. But as I looked around, I rarely saw people who looked like me. Without realizing it, I started comparing myself to a standard that wasn’t built to include me.

Comments like, “you’re kinda cute for an Indian girl,” or “you don’t even look Indian— you look mixed or Latina,” were often meant as compliments. At the time, I accepted them that way. Looking back, I realize they sent a different message: that the less Indian I appeared, the easier it was to fit in.

The environment around me reinforced those feelings. Racist comments about Indians often felt normalized in ways that I didn’t see happen with other racial groups. I remember one friend group made up of one white boy and four Indian boys. The Indian boys were jokingly referred to as “slaves,” and everyone laughed. At the time, it barely registered to others. It was just another joke. Looking back, I’m struck by how casually these comments were accepted and how rarely anyone questioned them.

Over time, I started hiding parts of myself that felt “too Indian.” I shortened my last name because I thought it would be easier for people to pronounce. It sounds unbelievable to me now, but at the time it genuinely felt less embarrassing than introducing myself with my full name.

Perhaps the most painful consequence wasn’t what other people thought of me, it was what I started believing about myself.

To fit in, I convinced myself that I wasn’t like “other Indians.” I distanced myself from my own community because I thought that was how I would be accepted. I wasn’t ashamed of being Indian in the sense that I wanted to reject my culture. Rather, I had absorbed the idea that the less visibly Indian I seemed, the easier it would be to belong.

For years, I assumed these feelings were simply part of growing up. It wasn’t until I left for college that I realized how much my environment had shaped the way I saw myself.

In a new community, I met people who embraced their South Asian identities in ways I had never experienced before. For the first time, I began to wonder whether being Indian wasn’t something to minimize, but something to be proud of.

I didn’t know it yet, but college would completely change my relationship with my culture, my community, and ultimately, myself.

young Indian womanBy Sahana Shankar
Undergraduate student studying psychology, aspiring to pursue a mental health career, and a dedicated SAMHIN volunteer

 
 
 
 
 
 

Share your Thoughts

We invite you to share your thoughts, experiences, or reflections in the comments – your voice can help open the door for others.

Subscribe to SAMHIN’s email list if you would like to be notified when SAMHIN publishes new blog posts.