I’m not particularly close to my family, but this Christmas we are thinking of inviting my parents for a bit. The reason is that they haven’t seen their first grandchild very often since she was born. But for me the main worry is that my parents are Muslim (in the case of my father in a somewhat serious way, and in the case of my mother more nominally/culturally). This means that we don’t see eye to eye on many things. When I visit their house I generally respect the rules of their house. I’m not a big drinker, but I would never think of even bringing alcohol to their abode. But what to do for the holidays? I am frankly uncomfortable drinking in front of my parents, because it seems disrespectful, even if it’s within my own home. I don’t judge their abstention, but they judge my consumption. If it was just my nuclear family it wouldn’t be a problem. My wife is even less of a drinker than me, and my daughter is a teetotaler. But for my in-laws drinking in the evenings, especially during festive occasions, is a normal part of life. Frankly it feels disrespectful to even consider asking them to change their behavior because my parents disapprove of alcohol consumption.
In the United States people glibly celebrate “diversity.” But the reality is that there is a great deal of self-segregation, and people within their own homes often eschew diversity of norms and mores. This isn’t hypocrisy as much as it is common sense. In domains like food and drink which loom large within the home & hearth there are major differences of expectation across cultures. Unlike most people from whom the experience of diversity is a choice, to a great extent for me diversity is a natural structural parameter of my life. Granted, I could cease contact with my parents, from whom I am ruptured in terms of my values and outlook, but that seems fundamentally inhumane. And of course it is even more strange for my wife; she never imagined that she’d have Muslim in-laws! For me negotiating between and across cultures is second nature. Despite being well traveled (she has lived in several European countries for years at a time), it is sometimes difficult for her to adjust to the reality that my parents expectations are very different from any she grew up with.
Life goes on. In a abstract sense my family is an instantiation of the process of cultural transformation. My parents are Bengali Muslims for whom English is a second language. All four of their children are non-religious Americans (Atheist, agnostic, apathetic, atheist) for whom Bengali is a second language. Despite having grandparents who were born in raised in eastern Bengal (Comilla), my daughter will be very much a child of the American west coast. The process of this change is not always without tension and discomfort. That is something I wish those who celebrate multiculturalism and change would reflect upon sometimes. Neighborhood color and authentic ethnic cuisine have other correlations.
