1.5Generation!? Really? Come on!
1.5 Generation! Why not first generation or second generation? Is there really a difference? As a 2GI you may say, “If you aren’t our parents generation, then you’re the kids generation, you may not be exactly like me but you’re still 2GI.” I beg to differ. If you are a 1GI you may say, “Come on, beta, how does it matter?” even when you know it matters. In fact, this blog is at least partly if not completely about this difference. Let me point out some basic experiences to illustrate the difference between 1GIs and 1.5GIs. Then I’ll tackle the differences between 1.5GIs and 2GIs.
1.5GI means you have gone through high school in the US (or whichever country you moved to). It may even mean you went through junior high there, actually. This means you have gone to your high school’s football games on Friday evenings, you have taken the very uncomfortable huge yellow bus from your pick-up point to school and back, you have also taken this same bus to sporting events that you played in.
You have gone to pep-rallies, where you didn’t quite fit in but you found it new and fun. You know exactly what it means to be a jock or a cheerleader, neither of which you were yourself. You know about junior and 
senior year proms and the limos, whether you attended them or not, and what it feels like if you attended them or if you didn’t. You know about being selected for and playing in varsity sports. You know what it felt like to buy and wear letterman jackets. You also know what a home room is and the second period announcements on the class loudspeakers.
You probably called your parents “Papa” and “Mummy” or more likely you modified these terms. But you certainly weren’t comfortable calling your parents “Mom” and “Dad”. You may have anglicized your name or had other people do it for you. You may have worn slacks (i.e., trousers) to junior high or high school. And you probably did it with white sneakers. You folded your pants at the very bottom after taking the fold from the knee down. You may have even had clearly parted hair, slicked in oil if you were a guy, or long, way-past shoulder-length if you were a girl. You protested at this, but half-heartedly, because you sort of understood why your parents made you dress in that way.
You know these things yourself – not because an excited cousin told you or you read it somewhere! You experienced it, the whole period of exhilarating newness and freedom yet confusion and weirdness. Yet you weren’t an adult immigrant with two decades of experience being brought up in India. You didn’t spend your teens, the critically important foundational years, in the motherland. You also weren’t born in the US. You didn’t go through kindergarten and elementary school in the US where you were taught how to brush your teeth in soft circles instead of harshly up and down.
You heard about Sesame Street from your younger siblings or same-aged cousins but you didn’t watch it 
yourself. You didn’t have slumber parties organized at your or your friends’ homes by moms. You didn’t make summer trips to India to see your grandparents and other aunts and uncles, never fully knowing who they were or why they kept pinching your cheeks. You are close to a FOB but that doesn’t describe you accurately or completely. You are also not an ABCD. In fact, you take offense to being called that more than you take offense to being called a FOB, although you are not jumping up and joy at that either. So what are you? You’re a 1.5GI. I am a 1.5GI!
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