David and I are both on our second marriages — hopefully, my last because having two ex-spouses isn't a good look if I ever go on Shaadi.com. We have a house full of kids; aged 18, 15, 13, 13, 10. Three cultures are represented in our beautifully blended family. I'm Gujarati, my two children from my previous marriage are 1/2 Afro-Dominican, and my three bonus children's' parents are Black American.
All five children call my parents "Ba" & "Dada."
We dance the bachata, merengue, Garba.
Much to our chagrin, our children only listen to post-2015 hip hop (eventually, we'll get Biggie & Mos Def in their rotation.)
We eat everything from DBSR to paratha to mangu to empanadas to wings (my husband is from Buffalo.) David makes the best chai. My dad claims he hasn't had chai this good since he lived in India.
The only "culture clash-ish" incident we have ever had was when my mom walked in on my then 10-yr-old laying her edges with a toothbrush, and my mom's reaction was priceless ("hai hai beta, are you crazy? This is for your teeth!!")... Oh, and that one time, my husband got his full Gujarati immersion experience when a stranger pulled up to my folks' home, discussed what they paid for their house, shared their salary, and then drove away, never to be heard from again.
Even though we are continually learning and relishing in the beauty of all of our diverse backgrounds, ALL five kids proudly and unapologetically identify as Black. We encourage, celebrate, and reaffirm this every day in our home. We have always empowered our children, especially the two who are 1/2 Desi and 1/2 Afro-Latino to identify as they wish and not let others tell them who they are. (Even my bonus daughter lets everyone know her 2nd mom is Indian.)
I'm incredibly grateful for the downs, tears, and squabbles because that's when I knew we had truly become family. Our motto has always been to come from a place of abundance and love, and never from scarcity.