To be fair that was probably the case a hundred years ago, or more, with Jewish immigrants to NYC.
Their grandchildren were the Baby Boom kids that I went through school with, growing up. They were great kids, and tried to make me feel welcome.
Now we're old, and we've all gone our separate ways. We were in band together, cooperated on shared interest without thinking about what nationality we were from. But culturally we were different, enough different that we didn't stay together over the long run.
My grandparents and young family left Germany in 1927 and arrived at Ellis Island in October that year. They lived in the Bronx a few years before moving up to Westchester County. My dad (age 3 when he arrived) told me about life on the streets as a German immigrant shortly after WW I. It was tough. But it’s funny — I never heard Oma und Opa, Dad or his older brother and older sister ever talk about hostility toward them in the Westchester suburbs. I’ve got high school year book photos of Dad. He was on the cheer squad. Looks like he fit right in. He never had a German accent moving here at age 3. Neither did his older brother and sister. But my Oma! She passed at 99 and I still had to listen carefully.
I would love to be able to talk to them about that, but everybody has passed on.