The 12 Year Gap (AKA Do you know what Ribena is?)

I am 12 years older than my brother with no siblings in between. He was in Kindergarden when I moved out. We both had only child experiences growing up. Obviously we are quite different - he is a millennial, I am genX. I vividly remember getting our first computer; he has no memory of a time when we didn't have at least one computer in the house. That said, I really thought this was the extent of our differences. We are siblings in the same family at the end of the day...

Wrong. 

I just spent the last two weeks in the UK with my extended family. It is the first time my brother and I have been over together, as adults.

Wow.

If ever there was an experience that served to highlight that I am not totally culturally American and my brother is... There are all sorts of British cultural references that I understand that he is totally clueless about. It was actually shocking. I think my constant "Really?! How do you not know what that is?!" started to piss him off. He pointed out that he has only been over 4 times where as I don't even know how many times I have gone over - a lot. The husband made the joke that there are Irish people who have spent less time in Dublin than me - he is not wrong. (Uh... Mom's Irish, Dad's English. Yes that happens. All the time actually.)  

One night at dinner the conversation drifted to how this difference came about. It turns out to be very simple. It was when my brother born that my parents fully, emotionally, committed to staying the US. That is when they started the citizenship process, and (most importantly) that is when they really embraced America culture.

By this time much of who I am was set. I drink tea every morning, I cannot start my day without it and I don't remember when I started drinking it I just always have (hello stereotype). I know the specific angst of picking up your cup thinking there is one last swig of tea only to discover there isn't. My brother barely drinks tea, and when he does he takes no milk (blech!). I have a very dry wit that is occasionally taken a bit literally by my friends here, causing me problems. I know what Ribena is and love digestive biscuits (Actually the "how do you not know what Ribena is?!" was the point my brother looked like he was going to smack me). I apologize when I have no reason to (so, SO, annoying as someone who did, in fact, grow up in America). I think the twitter very british problems (@soverybritish) is both hilarious & slightly painful. My speech pattern is different from my brother's, and there are all sorts of words that I pronounce in the British manner (a fact my friends have always taken glee in pointing out "Dude, say what this is?" while holding up a jar of herbs. Sigh). His voice is classically American, mine is not - nothing like having a director tell you to get training in american dialect because "you don't use it". Awesome (not the word that crossed my mind at the time). But on the upside, RP (standard British) came to me very quickly when I finally went to learn it, because I didn't have to learn it. I'd heard it my whole life and it was in there already.  

I think for my parents it was a surprise. The way things happened in our family meant that they had one classic immigrant child who's cultural understanding straddled both their parent's native and adopted cultures, and one child who is purely a creature of America. I don't really know how it made them feel... I know it makes me sad that my daughter seems to want nothing to do with tea (though she does like digestive biscuits!). On the other hand, I think my parents are more American than I am these days so maybe they haven't given it a thought since that dinner.  Perhaps we are really the picture of how immigrant families join their new culture?