Saresh and I are members of TANA (Telugu Association of North America). His parents paid the fee to sign us up as lifetime members so we could vote for officers, but I didn’t mind because I liked getting the TANA magazine.

Though I may have poked fun at the matrimonial section, I really liked reading all the articles. Most of the articles were editorial pieces by readers, not written by a staff. Despite the inane, inept and dull you’ll get without a pro-writing staff, you also get fabulous gems that wouldn’t appear otherwise - poetry, short stories, lots of great youth writing, travel pieces, real stories from the community. There were many times that my point of view was widened or changed. I liked these people.

Saresh never read it, but I would read it cover to cover. I found it to be a fascinating window into the direct thoughts of a culture I didn’t always understand but found myself having to function in on a daily basis. Then, an editorial edict slammed my window shut.

A new president and council of TANA was ushered in and decided that articles would no longer be printed in English, but in Telugu only. They argued that their youth was losing their culture, and this decision would force the youth to be part of their Telugu heritage. I was peeeeeeeved.

First of all, I’d bet freakishly large sums of money they have no idea how much of their youth even reads the TANA magazine. After collecting my winnings, I’d double or nothing that precious few of the youth that even did read it were able to read Telugu at all. Saresh didn’t come here until he was 9, and even he can’t read Telugu. As I’ve pointed out in a previous post this month, learning to read and write Telugu would be an arduous process at best and not one undertaken solely so they could read the free TANA magazine. In essence, they’ve made worse what they were trying to correct, and in the process they’ve not only shut out their youth, but shut out a group of people trying to become valid members of their community like me.

I have no idea if they only allow submissions in Telugu, or if they accept English submissions and then someone translates them into Telugu. I do find it telling that both the matrimonials and the paid advertisements are in English - they obviously know that a core audience they are trying to reach cannot read Telugu. If you’re paying to hook your daughter up, you better be sure everyone can read your ad. Even more telling is when election time rolls around and all the candidates write their “vote for me!” letters to TANA, they are also printed in English. Perish the thought a potential vote might be lost due to Telugu illiteracy! These are the same people who abolished publishing the articles in English.

I don’t know why this bothers me so much - I really do have better things to do with my time, but it keeps sticking in my craw. Saresh doesn’t know why I even care. Truly, I read, therefore I am. It’s what I do. I read for a living - I read all the ding dong day long, devouring knowledge like food. I have actually thought if I couldn’t read, I’d wither up and die. They’d find my brain a shriveled up raisin in my head. Now something I want to read - my sustenance - is being kept from me for a reason that defies common sense and prudent judgment. It makes me angry.

The in-laws and Saresh are tired of hearing me rant about this. I’ll pretty much comment about it to any Indian person who brings up TANA (they must think I’m a total loon by now). I’ve been considering writing a letter to the current president of TANA, but am afraid this would be a waste of my time. I doubt some white girl’s opinion of how they print their Telegu magazine ranks high on the priority list. I don’t feel like I’m being a lazy “why can’t the world just speak MY language” kind of American here. Am I?

Your response: