(The Son of Punjabis)

My discourse community? The Punjabi speaking first generation American. The Punjabi
discourse community is one that speaks the language of Punjabi. The members of this
community are the offspring of immigrants from the Pakistani and Indian regions of Punjab. We
are first generation Americans trapped in between the colliding cultures and traditions of Punjab
and the American way. When I first began speaking my native language of Punjabi little did I
know that the way I spoke would play a major role in defining my character, transforming my
ability to fit in or even accept others as they were. As a child I was taught to speak my language
with my family, and I went to elementary school with many cousins who I used to speak nothing
but Punjabi with. This was the moment in my life when I came to know how some people
outside of my discourse community perceived me. It is began my journey of going from loving
who I was, to despising who I was to now being accepting and prideful of the person I am today.
This journey has made me oppose bilingual education because when I see it I am only reminded
of segregation.
Much like Richard Rodriguez in Aria: Memoir of a Bilingual Childhood, I am the son of
working class immigrants and was taught Punjabi as my first language. English came after,
however I wasnt as exposed to it as much as I was Punjabi, so I spoke it more at school with my
cousins. At first it didnt make much of a difference. No one was bothered with what I said
however as I grew older and especially after the September 11th terrorist attacks I began to get
stares and called weird and even at times a terrorist by my classmates for speaking Punjabi. It
was just as James Baldwin writes in If Black English Isnt a Language, Then Tell Me, What Is?
To open your mouth in England is (if I may use Black English) to "put your business in the
street. You have confessed your parents, your youth, your school, your salary, your self-esteem,

and, alas, your future (Baldwin 49). Baldwin is saying here that the simple act of speaking
could give your history away and by speaking the very language I had been taught by my
parents, who just wanted me to preserve and acknowledge my roots and culture, I had been
suddenly classified in a group apart from everyone. Many times in my life have I felt like an
outsider, but never did I feel so hated and made fun of. Times like these made me question if I
had been raised right. I remember thinking to myself and saying Why couldnt I just be white
and like the other kids who spoke nothing but English or even like the whitewashed kids who
couldnt speak their native languages. As any kid who has been labeled as an outsider, I just
wanted to fit in, so I began to speak English at home, much to my parents disapproval. Only
Punjabi was to be spoken within the home. And just like that, the language of my family
changed. I was speaking English with my siblings and soon my parents accepted it and even
began to learn more of it themselves. I realize now the negative effect this has had on my family.
Much like Rodriguez there is some bond that my family used to have that has now disappeared.
We are speaking now the way we never speak out in public---we are together (Rodriguez 29).
That it is the commonality of speaking the same language that keeps a group together and it was
that bond that left the presence of my family and me. I yearn to have that commonality with my
family, the language that kept us together. But the pressures of the world felt too heavy on my
shoulders and I caved in. I now regret losing that bond with my family because it has created a
distance between us that at times it just feels unbearable. By wanting to fit in with the people at
school I became an outsider within my home. Things have never been the same, even as I write
this my father is away working .My siblings are at school or out with friends. Mother is sitting in
the family room, alone. And where am I? I am tucked away upstairs in my room, away from

everyone. It is as if we are strangers at times. To me, when I was younger, it was worth it. I
finally began fitting in.
Fitting in didnt just lead me to stop speaking Punjabi fluently. As someone who was with
the crowd I soon came to despise anyone who I heard speaking another language especially
Punjabi. It was the sense of not feeling like an outsider to the people who spoke their native
languages that threatened me, causing me to say mean things to them. I was doing to them the
same that had been done to me. It was a horrible feeling, the one of a hypocrite. I have since
learned to embrace the way I have been raised and the characteristics I possess. It is as Tan says
in her Mother Tongue, Lately, I've been giving more thought to the kind of English my mother
speaks. Like others, I have described it to people as 'broken" or "fractured" English. But I wince
when I say that. It has always bothered me that I can think of no way to describe it other than
"broken," as if it were damaged and needed to be fixed, as if it lacked a certain wholeness and
soundness (Tan 320). Much like Amy Tan I have realized language doesnt need fixing no
matter which one is spoken. Language, whether broken or fluent, shouldnt classify an individual
into an education level, your school, your income, and most definitely your future. It is a shame
to pin an individual into a class or stereotype based off of the way they speak. And one should
certainly not lose respect for another based on the broken English they speak. Being
disrespectful to a person because of their language is nothing but ignorance. We should
absolutely take the time to understand a persons history based off of the way they speak but only
in order to realize they have come from a background different than yours and learning a
language fluently may be more difficult than you could imagine. We should be more open as a
society to accepting who everyone is and not making fun of, classifying, pinning or even
stereotyping them to very negative images.

However, as far as this understanding and converging goes I stand firm in my argument
when I say bilingual education should not exist. In his memoir, Rodriguez says Simplistically
again, the bilingualists insist that a student should be reminded of his difference from others in
mass society, of his heritage (Rodriguez 34). I agree that a student should know his heritage, but
whos to say that public education is given the permission to make sure a student knows hes not
the same as everyone. The government has no right to tell me who I am and remind me how I am
different from everyone. Its sole responsibility is to educate me and keep me safe while I am at
school. I believe it is the parents responsibility to keep alive the culture, roots and heritage
within their children. There should be a discourse community with the home independent from
that at a students school. Children should not be segregated into their own discourse
communities with the school. While they are at school they should have one common discourse
community. Creating discourse communities within education would only make a difference
between students. It would give them another reason to think they are in the better discourse
community and that would have a negative effect on a childs education because it would
become a distraction. Keep one discourse community within education and a separate one at
home. That is what will help students aware of their heritage.
My journey of being an outsider and wanting to fit in has led me to become aware of the
issues between discourse communities. My experience of being torn and caught in between two
discourse communities leads me to argue that, although multiple discourse communities exist, it
is very difficult for them to interact without conflict, for example when I was a child I spoke
Punjabi at an English school. Having two discourse communities within one setting is just asking
for segregation. It does nothing but create difference. It doesnt preserve heritage, roots or culture

such as bilingualists say. It is important to keep one discourse community within the home, one
that is separate from the community at school. This is the true way to teach heritage to students.

Works Cited
Baldwin, James. If Black English Isnt a Language, Then Tell Me, What Is? The Price of the
Ticket Collected Nonfiction, 1948-1985. New York: St. Martins/Marek, 1985. 649-52.
Rodriguez, Richard. Aria: A Memoir of a Bilingual Childhood. American Scholar (1981):
25-42

Tan, Amy. Mother Tongue. Three Penny Review 11.3 (1990): 7-8. Rpt. In Under Western
Eyes. Ed, Garrett Hongo. New York: Doubleday, 1995. 315-20