What's good y'all? I'm Gene Zembee and this is Code Switch from NPR.

And for this week's episode, we're throwing it back to May 2022.

My NPR colleague, Malika Gareeb, she's the digital editor for NPR's LifeKit,

came in the chopper that was with me and she told us a story about something that will be really,

really relatable to a lot of folks in this country. It's about how even when you're born and raised

in the United States, if you come from an immigrant family, there are all these ways that just

are still connected with and locked into the expectations and cultural ideas and obligations

of your parents' homeland. But before we get into that, I had to start by asking her a really,

really basic question. Malika, I need to admit something to you. I still don't get the first,

gen second, gen thing. We've been doing this show for like a nice minute now and I still get

tripped up on which generation is which when we have these conversations.

Oh my gosh, it's so confusing for me too. When I was growing up, I referred to myself as first

generation because we were the first generation of Americans born in the US to our immigrant parents

who were born back in the home country. But there are some people who think our immigrant

parents are the first generation making us the second generation. So I don't know, I've heard both.

Weirdly, I use both interchangeably. Oh, so you switch back and forth, okay? Yeah.

So Malika, I'm assuming the story you brought to us today has something to do with immigrant

identity. Yes, as a matter of fact, although it's kind of a story about a house for some family

drama over a house. And houses are for shelter and for family drama. Like that's why they're there.

Yeah, and that's the case here. This house is in a small town just south of Los Angeles.

One story house that has three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a not so quiet coldest act. It's

right off of the four or five freeway in a blue color town called Carson, California.

...