This week’s Sunday Spotlight features Sonia (@sonjbonjain), where she talks about growing up in a predominantly white neighbourhood of Toronto as an Indian girl that left her feeling like the “Other” all throughout her upbringing. Additionally, Sonia answers big questions like: How did her immigrant parents play a role in this experience? What is needed in this world for inclusivity? And lastly, what now that she’s grown?
This is the first time in The Gen’s Sunday Spotlight history where the topic of skin colour is touched upon directly in our cross cultural discussions here. Thank you Sonia for sharing your experience, we are grateful that this monumentally important subject is finally being addressed.
This is Sonia’s story.
I cannot believe how many years I have spent doubting myself and feeling embarrassed about being brown. Unfortunately, it is the sad reality for many first- and second- generation children who grow up in Western countries and/or non-white children who are immersed in spaces that are predominantly white.
As a first-generation South Asian woman who grew up in a very white neighborhood and school in Toronto, I learnt to be comfortable with my own shame and insecurity of being brown from a very young age. My parents, both immigrants from India, had an arranged marriage that seemed very promising. My mother, an aspiring Doctor, was born in a small rural town called Kota while my father had already immigrated from Punjab and was completing his medical degree in Nova Scotia. However, my parents struggled in their early 20s to connect with each other as my mother tried to navigate a new country, language, family and marriage all the while trying to pursue medicine. Still, as many South Asian immigrant families do, my parents were eager to give me and my three other siblings a better life and opportunities by immigrating to Canada. Instead of directing us to more affordable classes and schools, my parents strived to enrol us in schools and extracurriculars that were in wealthier neighbourhoods under the belief that the opportunities in these areas would push us to be more successful, driven and acknowledged.
Consistent with many immigrant parents who strive to make their children’s lives more fulfilling by moving to a more opportunistic and resourceful country, my parents always emphasized strong work ethic and resiliency. Yet for much of my childhood, I watched as my parents struggled to financially support us while also trying to make it through their residency and fellowship in North America. I always wondered why we weren’t raised in India, it might have made things easier for my mother especially. To them, Canada and being Canadian meant success, opportunities and networks that were unparalleled to India. They were keen on having us experience and live our lives, the “Canadian way” and as the child of an immigrant, a perception exists where you may choose what pieces and identities from your “host culture” vs your “ethnic culture” you wish to hold onto.
For me, it felt natural, if not, necessary to assimilate to white culture. Being one of the only brown girls in the neighbourhood and at my elementary school, I was so ashamed of being a tall, brown, with curly black hair and dark features. I did everything I could to look white. I straightened my hair, I dyed it blonde at the bottom, lost weight and never ate Indian food in public (and even at home). The parts of us that we identify most with are sometimes those that other people notice and reflect back to us. I didn’t want to be the token brown girl but I also didn’t want to be the stereotypical South Asian student. I did my best to diverge away from being brown and avoided making friends or talking to other South Asian students in efforts to completely avoid any association.
But for my peers, I inherently became the token Person of Colour in the group, so much so that it was presumed that I could represent all individuals who were not white.
I was constantly featured in school and camp magazines and brochures. At the time, I thought it was flattering but now looking back, it is clear that institutions strategically pick out specific individuals for these advertisements in efforts to make them look more diverse. It’s performative. How much money, time and energy do these institutions actually deliver in ensuring that their most marginalized community members and their families feel supported and heard? Despite the fact that I was supposed to make these institutions seem more inviting, inclusive and well-rounded, I often had to brace myself when entering the same white spaces these institutions created.
It didn’t help that growing up, there was absolutely no representation or empowerment of South Asian women in magazines, sports or any of my interests. Even in my close circles, school staff, sports coaches, there was only one South Asian woman role-model figure. When we don’t have role-models or people to look up to, to gain knowledge from, to express our feelings and frustrations to that aren’t our family, it can further alienate us. When you are not included or reflected anywhere you go, you become the “Other”. As I played sports, studied and engaged in predominantly, if not only, white-dominated spaces, I began to feel more like the “Other” than myself. People who are in this dominant group don’t always acknowledge how the subtle microaggression, seemingly “harmless” racist joke or comment on your skin colour or background can affect a person’s identity. Making a joke about curry and then looking at the only South Asian person in the room or re-enacting the accents of tv show or movie personalities that are Indian is not funny, it’s exhausting.
My mother has an accent, she makes curry and she has fought tirelessly to survive in this country. I wish I could have been proud of who I was and my family when these comments occurred, but I accepted them even joined them at times. When you don’t see yourself in your surroundings, you just try to belong.
A large part of who you are depends on what the world around you says you are. It was only until a few years ago that I started to acknowledge how much of this skewed identity was taking a toll on my mental health and self-esteem. Up until then, the same patterns were occurring: I was the only POC at my work, my volunteering and friend groups. Instead of trying to engage and partake in conversations, I often felt unmotivated to show up because of feeling different or ostracized. It can be challenging to confront these experiences, but it was more difficult to confront them to the people I worked and connected with. Questions of worth and belonging always came up:
“Is it just me?”
“Will they think I’m just making everything about race?”
“Maybe I am making everything about race?”
But as I started to enter spaces with more POC, immigrants, and differing cultures, I recognized how comfortable and safe I felt. I was no longer an outlier, in fact, everyone was so different that there was really no comparison or judgment at all. We were all the “Other”s in our own respective spaces, but as a group, we had more similarities than none.
It is almost a relief to enter a field and career where I see and value so many different people with different capacities and upbringings. In my conversations about empowerment and accessibility of mental health resources for BIPOC individuals, I recognize how limited the support and infrastructure was for my parents and for any immigrant family to fully succeed psychologically, financially and socially in a Westernized country. If we are “diversity”, that means that being white and from that country is the norm. It means that we are automatically categorized as “Other” or “different”. Institutions, schools and really any space needs to shift away from just diversity to a more inclusive model. Differences should always be celebrated but individuals from different origins and backgrounds should always feel empowered and included. If the institution prides itself on diversity and equity, then People of Colour should be leading and directing those places and in higher positions of power.
I now feel so grateful and proud to be who I am and constantly find myself trying to make up for lost time.
I feel honoured to be from India where many of the practices, tools and foods that Western society uses now were established. Yoga, Ayurveda/chakras, turmeric, spices and the entire garment industry have origins throughout India. I strive to connect with my immediate family in India who have created beautiful and meaningful lives across the world from us. It’s important that for anyone who feels disconnected from both themselves and the social groups that they are in, to find people or groups that better reflect their values and backgrounds. Affinity groups such as The Gen allow for opportunities to openly discuss feelings of trust and identity while honoring those feelings in a safe space. Then at some point, when you are ready, to thank your parents, their parents and so on for doing the best they could to support you in a space and experience that was so different and inaccessible. I recognize that my parents were trying their best to have us succeed in a world that was so different than their own. I am constantly grateful to be here today.
Bit about Sonia:
Sonia (@sonjbonjain) is currently a Masters of Social Work candidate at Columbia University in New York. She spends her days counselling and working with racialized youth in Brooklyn and engaging in meaningful discussions and classes in social justice, mental health and clinical social work (while also trying to sneak in exercise and movement during her breaks).
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