On the Topsy Turvy World of Being a Second Generation American
Photo by Georges Toiansky on Unsplash
Are You Really Autistic, or Are Your Parents Just Immigrants?
I came across this quote in a post years ago and immediately shared it with a friend. We laughed because at the time, we were discussing whether it may be beneficial for us to get assessed for autism. After further reflection, a master’s degree in clinical mental health, and conversations with others like me, I realized that my parents had a nuanced impact on how I interacted with my environment.
Parents shape their children’s understanding of the world, both directly and indirectly. They teach them social codes: “If you do A, B will happen.” Or, “If you just follow my lead, everything will be fine.” It’s a game of follow-the-leader, where parents serve as the architects of their child’s worldview.
But sometimes, the rules parents teach don’t apply—not because they are wrong, but because their knowledge was shaped by a different time and place. Imagine a family of hares moving into a small valley of rabbits. At first glance, everything might seem normal. But if you look closely, something is just a little… off.
If you’re a second-generation American or know someone who is, you may have felt this “off” feeling in ways that are difficult to articulate. Immigrant parents often make obvious adjustments—learning a new language, navigating unfamiliar customs, building a life in an entirely new context. But their children’s experience is more subtle.
They have subtle if any accents. They are fluent in cultural references, though sometimes lacking depth in their connection to them. They may dress the same, blend into the masses, and be a great friend, yet they always seem a little distant.
When they speak, their aspirations are filtered through the need to prove that their parents’ sacrifices were worth it. There’s a constant negotiation between passing as a “proper” American and preserving ties to their heritage. They know how to finish the question, “How do you not know what ___ is?” in two languages. They may be fluent in both tongues yet struggle to keep their expressions straight in either. This can make them overly literal, slow to catch jokes, or oscillate between taking things too seriously and not seriously enough.
They are both ahead of the curve and late bloomers. They know everything and yet are so out of the loop. Their identity feels like a shapeless mass—something to either reject entirely or over-identify with.
This experience isn’t exclusive to second-generation Americans. In an era of rapid globalization and technological shifts, many of us feel like cultural foreigners in one way or another. But perhaps, for the first time, you’re recognizing this as another reason why relating to others as a second-generation American, or someone who is, wonderfully unique and absolutely challenging.