The Big Divide: ABCD vs. FOB

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Disciple
It’s Saturday night, and I find myself at one of those
very trendy South Asian singles events. I’m in line at
the bar, when a certain someone catches my eye. I lean
in his direction and strain to hear his voice. What am
I listening for? His accent, of course! Everyone knows
it’s the best way to figure out if a Desi guy is a FOB
or an ABCD, right? But, then what? Why do I care so
much if someone is a FOB or an ABCD? And, what’s the
difference anyway?
Before getting into this though, let’s define some
terms (I’m a lawyer, so I can’t help myself). An ABCD
is commonly known as an "American Born Confused Desi."
Most of us have made this term our own—e.g. check out
this very fascinating magazine—but I think it’s safe
to say that the term wasn’t originally meant to be
complimentary. It refers to South Asians born and
raised in the United States (or Canada, but talk about
a double whammy—being presumed to be confused and
American!). Where did it come from? Probably a FOB
with some time on his or her hands. And, FOB, commonly
defined as "Fresh Off the Boat," generally refers to
South Asians who immigrated to the United States.

Every group is the victim of stereotyping, and ABCDs
and FOBs are no exception. Some of the more common
stereotypes about FOBs are that they tend to only
socialize with other FOBs, prefer to eat Indian food
all the time and are generally diligent about visiting
their parents and extended family in India. They also
often have Indian accents that I can’t understand,
wear white socks with dress shoes and don’t use
antiperspirant.
Of course, there are plenty of stereotypes about ABCDs
too. They are not expected to speak their mother
tongue, always think their parents "won’t understand,
because they didn’t grow up here," aren’t close to
their extended family in India and are not
FOB-friendly. We are often also accused of being
coconuts (or Suzie-Q’s or Ho-Hos), brown on the
outside and white on the inside, and of not respecting
our heritage. But most of us would agree that being an
ABCD isn’t so bad; it’s better than being a FOB,
right?

Now back to the bar. That night, this certain someone
caught my glance, and we started up a conversation.
His name was Krishna*, and he’s a FOB. Krishna and I
hit it off and eventually settled into a long-distance
friendship. In my humble (and admittedly
stereotypical) ABCD opinion, Krishna is different.
Krishna doesn’t conform to any of the stereotypes. By
most ABCD standards, he’s not your typical FOB.
We have the kind of relationship in which we can talk
about anything really. He has myriad interests, is
intellectually curious, and is a great phone person.
That’s why we’re friends. We talk about politics,
world events and the people in our lives. We both love
to travel and learn new things. This summer, I learned
to scuba, and he learned to sail. But, we have
differences too. His parents live in Hyderabad and
mine live in Chicago. He went to college in India, and
I went to school in Philly. I can vote, he can’t.

Even though we talk about anything and everything, it
wasn’t until a year into our friendship that we
actually talked about the ABCD/FOB divide. And, we
more or less stumbled upon it. He was telling me about
a group of FOBs at his work whom he used to hang out
with. Recently, they stopped inviting him out. He felt
insulted and was somewhat disenchanted about being
excluded by "his people."
So, in an attempt to make him feel better, I told him
I thought he was different (as described above) and
that it wasn’t surprising to me that his FOB
colleagues didn’t want to socialize with him anymore.
He wasn’t really like them and was really more like
me, an ABCD, which was why we got along so well. Or,
so I thought.

For what seemed like an eternity there was dead air,
and then Krishna said, "That’s not true. I am a FOB."
And I immediately thought, "Why would anyone want to
be a FOB?" Doesn’t every FOB aspire to be confused
(pun intended) for an ABCD? Apparently not. I paused
before I said something condescending. And, that was
when I realized what the difference between ABCDs and
FOBs is. We are confused, and we are always working
through things to give ourselves a clearer identity—to
be more American or to be more South Asian. We grew up
bi-culturally and have always felt and will continue
to feel the need to balance the two worlds we live in.
FOBs have one identity: a South Asian one. Krishna
didn’t want to be an ABCD. In fact, I think Krishna
was offended by what I had thought to be a compliment.
So, I apologized.
When I told him I was going to write this article, he
wondered if the topic wasn’t trite. Maybe it was to
him, but it certainly wasn’t to me. I learned a lot
about him and myself from that conversation. More
importantly, he questioned the premise of the article
entirely, saying, "Why don’t you just write about why
ABCDs don’t get along with Mexican people?" At first I
didn’t understand, but then it became clear. He wanted
to know why the ABCD/FOB divide was an issue. "FOBs
are not some archaic version of ABCDs," he pointed
out, "We really are different." They share an
immigrant experience all their own. And, as Krishna
further explained, South Asian FOBs probably have more
in common with Chinese FOBs than they do with ABCDs
(whether or not they know it). Though FOBs may
eventually integrate into American culture, they will
always remain first-generation Americans. And, ABCDs
never will be.

That somewhat obvious, but still enlightening point,
made my head reel. Do I have more in common with my
Jewish-American neighbor than I do with Krishna? Is
that good? Is that bad?

Does that mean that I’m not Indian enough?

It doesn’t mean any of those things, I decided. FOBs
have a different experience in this country, because
they are immigrants. When I think about my parents, it
all makes sense. They were immigrants and always will
be. They still prefer to socialize with other South
Asians and eat Indian food all the time, but they’ve
also adopted the trappings of American life. However,
thirty-some years after my parents came here, my
father still says he feels like a second-class citizen
(even though he probably votes more often than the
average non-naturalized American). I might look like
him, but I certainly don’t feel the same way. I will
never have the same ties to India that he does. And,
he will never have the same ties to this country that
I do. That’s the bottom line.

When I surveyed my ABCD and FOB friends on the divide,
each described the other group as elitist and
exclusive. It doesn’t have to be that way. We have to
get to know each other like we would any other group
of people. Just because we come from the same part of
the world doesn’t mean we are the same. Nonetheless,
sometimes when I hang out with my FOB friends, I feel
insecure about my South Asian-ness. And, I admit that
sometimes I want to assert my ABCD "I’m American"
sense of superiority. I certainly wouldn’t do that
with any other group of people, but sometimes I find
myself doing it with the FOBs.
Soon after this conversation with Krishna, I decided
to test his pearls of wisdom. I was at a good friend’s
party over the weekend. He too happens to be a FOB. As
the party drew to a close, a core group of his FOB
friends (plus me) overstayed their welcome well into
the night. As the wine flowed, the conversation became
animated, and the jokes started being told in Hindi.

I’m a South Indian ABCD, so Hindi is generally beyond
me. I tried studying it once, and I’ve seen my share
of Bollywood films, but I still need subtitles. I was
used to this turn of events however. Usually, I just
stay quiet and indulge my personal insecurities about
not understanding Hindi. But, this night was
different. I decided to assert myself and ask for a
translation—after all, that is what I would do if they
were speaking German (or some other language that I
didn’t comprehend). And, I got one. So, I got to enjoy
the joke too.
After we went through this process a few times, one of
the guys asked me why I didn’t speak Hindi. I looked
him square in the eye and said, "Because I’m South
Indian and American, I never had a need to learn it."
And, I said to myself, "And, I’m ok with that."
FOBs and ABCDs can only mingle when they see each
other for who they are: people who share a heritage
but not an experience. Don’t presume that you are
being judged, put your stereotypes aside, and get to
know each other as you would someone who doesn’t look
like you. In the end, my FOB friends add a dimension
to my life like no other. I’m grateful that they’re in
my life and that they’ve let me into theirs.

*Name has been changed.
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