The Taste of Ginger(75)

“Thanks for coming out here,” I said, deflecting.

She held my gaze, not letting me have a pass.

“You know the way you felt coming out of the airport today? Everyone staring at you because you look different?” I sighed before saying, “I’ve felt like that most days of my life. Around the clock. Without a break. And especially at that firm.”

Her gaze dropped to the floor. It was obvious that she was white and I was Indian, but we’d never talked about that during our friendship. I had always avoided talking about race and ethnicity with white Americans, whether it was colleagues, boyfriends, teachers, or friends. I knew it made them uncomfortable, and I had been conditioned to make white people feel comfortable. Assimilation required that above all else, and I had done everything possible to assimilate.

“I didn’t realize you felt different there,” she said softly. “I’ve always thought of us as the same.”

I managed a half smile. “I know. But we never were. I had to be that reliable Indian workhorse. I had to be the highest biller in our class to prove that I deserved to be there. I had to bite my tongue when Jared said and did things I disagreed with. Speaking up was a luxury I’ve never had.”

“I disagree with Jared all the time,” she said. “He handles it well. As well as can be for a power-hungry narcissist.”

“From you. But you are a member of his club. I’m not. I can’t draw any attention to myself, so I do everything possible to blend in.”

Her face fell. “I didn’t realize you felt that way.”

“I know,” I said. “It’s too hard to say these things to white people.”

“Do you feel that way with me?”

I pondered her words. “I think I feel that way with everyone who is white. The degree varies, but I have sought acceptance from white people since the day I moved to Chicago.”

“I’m so sorry if I did anything to make you feel that way.”

“It’s the world we live in. I’m only now realizing how much it has affected me. It affected my career choices, my relationship with my family, my friendships, and my romantic choices.”

“You mean with Alex?”

I nodded. “I thought a lot about what you said about him.”

“I’m sorry if I was harsh,” she said.

“It was harsh,” I said evenly, “but I have thought a lot about why I was with him.”

She looked at me, urging me to continue.

“He was my only serious relationship, but even before that, I was only attracted to white guys,” I said. “And I’m trying to figure out why. Was I rebelling against my parents, or was I trying to blend into American society?”

“Maybe both?” she offered.

“I keep asking myself whether I’d still have wanted him if he had all of the same qualities but was Indian.”

“And?”

“And I think I give white people more slack. That’s the group whose acceptance I needed to succeed . . . in school, at work, in my personal life. If he’d been an Indian guy picking up random shifts for a caterer and trying to write screenplays, I’d have thought he was lazy,” I admitted. “I gave him passes that I wouldn’t have given people who weren’t white.”

“I never knew you felt that way. I always thought you were color blind, just like I am.”

I looked at her, knowing she meant well. “Only white people say they’re color blind like it’s a good thing. I’ve known what color I and everyone around me were since the day I moved to America. When you’re not at the top of a social hierarchy, you notice everything about the ones who are. So when a white person says they are color blind, it makes me feel like they are treating me as if I’m white rather than what I am. Like I’m not going to be demoted for being brown. It’s not the same as saying my brownness is equal to your whiteness.”

Carrie met my gaze, her eyes showing that she was thinking deeply about what I had just said. “I hadn’t thought about it that way.”

I smiled at her. “I know. The greatest privilege of being born at the top is that you never have to think about how to get there.”

I could see the wheels churning in her head as my words sank in. “Looks like I need to do some thinking. A lot of thinking.”

“Being here has made me reconnect with Indian culture in a way I haven’t since I was a little girl. I’d been so determined to be American that I forgot what being Indian even meant.”

“You’re right about what you said earlier. The way I felt at the airport was the first time in my life that I’ve ever been so overwhelmed by what I looked like. I can’t imagine that you’ve felt that since you were seven.”

“It’s exhausting.”

“I can only imagine. But I’m glad you said something. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

I smiled at her. “You’re the first person I’ve ever said anything like that to. And you’re also the person who made me start thinking about these things and not sweeping them under the rug, so I’m grateful for what you said about Alex. Even though it was harsh. I needed to hear it.”

She smiled at me. “I’m glad you are seeing these things. And I’m really glad you aren’t seeing Alex as the be-all and end-all of your life. He doesn’t deserve that.”