Living in the United States as a second-generation Indian woman has been a strange experience, with microaggressions and macroaggressions alike. People in the U.S. too often muddle the boundaries between curiosity and disrespect, particularly as they relate to race.
I have had the unfortunate experience of receiving microaggressive comments since I was young. What became something I learned to brush off has returned to me as I reflect on it now as a college student and aspiring healthcare provider. But one question remains: how come I accept it?
“Othering,” means “to treat or consider (a person or a group of people) as alien to oneself or one’s group (as because of different racial, sexual, or cultural characteristics).” A personal example of “othering” would be the following conversation.
“Where are you from?”Â
“Chicago.”
“No, like, where are you really from?”
“Oak Park suburb area.”
“Okay, but where are your parents from?”
“Milwaukee.”
Observing someone go through the process of finding the question that gives them the answer they want is something I do not and probably will never understand. The conversation usually ends with the question “What is your heritage?” or “What is your ancestry?”Â
When I do encounter a conversation starting with this “othering,” I tend to give it some pushback. I do not immediately give them the answer they are looking for, because I want to emphasize that my childhood home is in Chicago, my extended family is nearby in the Midwest and that we can still have meaningful conversation just from those details alone, instead of focusing so heavily on my ancestry.
And, while I understand what someone might be trying to ask, people seem to ask in situations where I question how relevant that information would even be. Why that is the first thing a person asks me after I tell them my name, I do not know. I wonder if, to them, my answer is indicative of my character, or if it confirms a certain assumption of theirs about me, and, if so, they find satisfaction in receiving the answer they were seeking.
Today, the list of Indian female stereotypes is rather extensive, and unfortunately, not evolving. I have been told I look exotic, that I must be a good daughter and academic. That I have a nice Indian smile. That I look like I could make a “good butter chicken.” That I must be going to school to become a doctor, and I will be a good one at that. I have been told there is an attractive and ugly type of Indian woman. I have been mistaken for other Indian women of whom I look nothing alike. Questions and instances like these are not only inappropriate, but alienating, too.
Turns out, these questions get asked most places I go, not just in more conservative or less demographically diverse areas. I was hoping choosing a more progressive city to study in in Missouri might mean less uncomfortable situations compared to more rural schools, but it seems they are inevitable.
I speak on my own behalf when I say that having this be normalized in everyday settings is simply humiliating. Too often do I find myself holding my breath and moving on with my day instead of confronting an offensive comment. Because at the end of the day, I am tired.Â
Because of this, I often minimize my feelings or tell myself I am reacting dramatically for feeling hurt by other people’s words. I convince myself their comments could be worse and it could simply be a result of their misplaced curiosity. But then, I think about the way I speak to others, or what goes through my mind when someone shares their own experience with microaggressions. And I have never once thought they were being dramatic or blowing something out of proportion, nor do I ever grade their experience as “not bad” compared to “very bad.” Words are words.
I ask anyone reading this to consider the overarching message in this article. Educate yourself and listen to what you say to others — and how you say it. I do not always owe an explanation for something about myself that is out of my control. I am not yours to analyze, and curiosity is different than insensitivity.
These experiences feed into the way I see and feel about myself. And while I can do my best to filter others’ words, they eventually take their toll. I have so much pride and gratitude in who I am and the family and culture that have gotten me to where I am today. But there is so much more to me. Learning about each other’s characters, passions and values — that is how we connect with each other. So, I ask of you: consider the personal qualities that may lie beyond my identity markers.Â
Backgrounds and cultures are important, but our individual qualities push us to know each other in deeper, more meaningful ways, because meeting people should be freeing, not exhausting.