The Importance of Identity and the Need to Respect it

Recently, I had a conversation about identity. About my identity to be precise. 

I was having a well needed cuppa with a friend and we were discussing high schools. In passing, she mentioned that the school has an LGBTQ+ club. I was very pleasantly surprised. It had never occurred to me that these clubs now exist in high schools. They certainly didn't when I attended in the 90s. 

Photo by Kyle Glenn on Unsplash

It got me talking about my own sense of identity. My own exploration of it. 

For background, my parents are of Indian descent and moved to the UK in 1970 and 1980, I believe. We grew up in a very white Christian home counties town. There were very few, if any kids that looked like me and while my first language was my mother tongue, I stopped speaking it when I attended nursery and preschool. So at home, I'd experience my parents culture but outside of the house, where I increasingly spent more time, I was exposed to everything British. I grew up with British TV, film and music. I'd hear Indian music but understanding it was another thing. Broken Punjabi mixed in with English at home is very different to listening to music sung in pure Punjabi or Hindi. I did like some Indian music and films growing up. Mr India and Amar Akbar Anthony with Amitabh Bachchan were particular favourite films of mine. Subtitles were always helpful for me to follow along but I watched films not always understanding everything that was said. We visited family who lived in Bradford and London etc. and they visited us. We also attended Indian functions such as weddings and other social events but for all intents and purposes I lived in a world that didn't look like me. 

That was never a problem until other people made it so. Because I never ever belonged, anywhere. I feel and still feel completely and utterly British. I have Indian heritage which I respect and I am proud of but I am in no way Indian. I couldn't be picked up and transported to India and be expected to quickly and easily assimilate to live contently. For one thing, I don't speak the language and culturally it's not my culture.

So growing up and even in adulthood, it was reinforced in me, that I was different. By people of every colour and nationality. This was across the board. 

I should be able to cope with the heat. Which makes absolutely no sense when I've grown up in England. 

I should be able to cope with spicy food. Yes I can eat spices but that doesn't mean I can necessarily handle anything super spicy or that I'd want to. 

The assumption I'd have an arranged marriage. 

I was asked why I drank and ate meat at university because people that looked like me don't. 

I got asked a lot about why I didn't speak certain Indian languages by people who looked like me and those that don't. I have and still do get spoken to in lots of Indian languages by strangers, here and in other countries, and when I politely say I can't speak a particular language, I get asked the reasons why. For some strange reason, people feel unsatisfied and unhappy about it as though they've been inconvenienced. 

Did you know India has 22 official languages? I've seen crazy numbers in the 100s in terms of the total number of languages and then in the 1000s or 10,000 for dialects.

I had the same problem with border control and airport officials, on a work trip to Venezuela, when I couldn't speak Spanish. I had to explain why, looking like I could be South American, I was not. 

How many people have to go around explaining their heritage? I've done it countless times.

I sometimes have to suppress the desire to say something completely and utterly outrageous in response.

It wasn't easy being in the Indian community because I couldn't speak the language. It didn't matter if I ate the food etc. I was an oddity. I was an outsider. I was at times ridiculed. It was considered shocking and unnatural or something to joke about at my expense. 

This wasn't everyone. However, it was enough checks and balances that made me feel like I belonged nowhere. I've always been on the outside looking in.

I have spent a lot of my life, even now, explaining and justifying my identity. The majority of people are respectful but as we know, negativity, unfortunately rises to the surface and is what we end up remembering.

So identity to me has been a difficult place to navigate. People have always waded in with judgement or an opinion. I feel like I've had to stand my ground somewhat. However, I wouldn't be the person I am today without the experiences I had. I think it's made me a more understanding and empathetic person to others and for that I would never change what I experienced.

Identity, is a very personal and vulnerable affair. 

It's how you perceive yourself and it's how you want others to see you. This sense of identity, starts developing from a very young age, when we first learn we are separate entities from our caregivers. It's so very important because it provides each of us with our core compass, our foundation from which we build everything else around it. Identity isn't built quickly and there is fluidity in it as we discover ourselves and get to know ourselves better. It's a lifelong pursuit. Identity is whatever you want it to be. It very much comes from the individual and nobody, absolutely nobody should ever, ever trample all over it and tell you who you are. No one else can define you, but you.

Whatever you present to the world as you, is you. 

It's only respectful, right and fair that when we meet and greet someone, we accept them as they choose to show themselves to the world. We are not there to judge someone on face value by our preconceived, judgemental or prejudiced ideas. We all have them but we have a duty to be aware of these, keep them in check, and meet everyone if not positively then neutrally wherever possible.

Three Weekly Update

Apologies, this post is a week later than usual. I've been feeling out of sorts for the last couple of weeks and while I'd written the bulk of this last week, I wasn't in the right place to put it out there. Women don't have it easy when it comes to premenstrual syndrome and periods etc. — all that good hormonal stuff! Maybe, it's also the manic run up to Christmas too. Life can get so overwhelming and in this case the blog took a bit of a backburner.

The writing is going ok. I'm managing to keep up with the word count by the skin of my teeth. I desperately need the Christmas break to regroup. I want to reread what I've written, not to change it but to see what I've actually done. Believe it or not, I've not read the whole thing since I've started and it may give me new insights as to where the story will go. The only thing I'll be doing over the 2 week break, is getting the my information cheat sheet up-to-date. It's something I desperately need to do as I hit the 30,000 word mark.

I'm still going to the gym, to strength train, 3 times a week. I'm so much stronger and I do feel more able to do things and to cope with life. This will also stop over Christmas when the kids are at home. In some ways, it spurs me to continue because I know I'll have 2 weeks where I won't be there.

Tutoring was manic but some of the work ebbed away, giving me a much needed breather. It starts ramping up again next week, just before the Christmas break. I'm finding it a real steep learning curve. I enjoy the creativity of trying to find ways to engage kids to learn.

I'm still volunteering in school and I love getting that bit of time to interact with the kids and be in a school environment. It's also a bonus if I spot my kids around school.

I wrote my second letter to my pen pal through the Omega charity. I was really excited to get my first handwritten letter through the post. It feels like such a novelty to send and receive handwritten letters. If you have the time, I'd really encourage anyone and everyone to get involved. If it's not letters then you can be a friendly voice at the end of a phone for someone who needs a chat.

I have no idea, if I'll post again before Christmas and / or the New Year. I may do, depending on how I feel. However, in case I don't and you made it this far, I want to wish you a wonderful Christmas and all the best for the New Year. Thank you to everyone who reads this blog. I have no idea who all my readers are, but I appreciate the time you take to read my words.