In light of the recent events of JusReign and Waris Ahluwalia, I wanted to draw attention to a firsthand experience of growing up as a minority.
Disclaimer: These are all my personal accounts of living as a minority in a predominately white town. Of course that doesn’t mean this reflects every minority’s experience living in a predominately white town, let alone every minority’s experience. If it did, that would be a sweeping generalization—and who shares articles about generalizations and extremes anyways, right?Â
I moved to a small town at the age of ten. I attended middle school as well as high school there. I went to a nearby community college for two years and ended up moving out of town a couple months before I turned 21. In the ten years I lived there, here are some things I experienced:
Experience 1 (PE): When I was in 5th grade, my parents didn’t want me shaving my legs at such a young age (I was ten or eleven). In PE, our uniform was a gigantic baggy grey shirt and black basketball shorts. During PE, kids would make fun of me and laugh at me because I didn’t shave my legs. (Never mind the fact that some of these other girls didn’t shave their legs either. They had lighter hair than me, so it didn’t show up as much as mine did.) I specifically remember a boy saying he didn’t want to be my partner for basketball—probably because he was jealous that my leg hair was longer than his facial hair. Â
Experience 2 (Lunch): At my middle school, we had a snack bar—which was the “cool place to get lunch.” All of my friends would order a burrito, a pizza, or a turkey sandwich. The thing about this snack bar, though, was that they never had vegetarian options. The only thing (besides beverages) that didn’t have meat in it was a chocolate chip cookie. During Lent, however, there was a cheese pizza option available on Fridays for Catholics and Christians. It really bothered me that dietary needs for religious reasons were catered to some kids, while mine were never addressed. Shouldn’t we have had cheese pizza available year-round for everyone who doesn’t eat meat, not just for Catholics/Christians on Fridays for Lent? This was a public school, not a private/Catholic/Christian school, so the attention paid to one religious dietary restriction and not another didn’t make sense. When I voiced my opinion about this to others, I was told to pick the meat off. No honey, it doesn’t work like that.
Experience 3 (English): There was a time in our English class when we were reading The Crucible. We were told to write an essay on Indian people and their traditions. Since there are no Native Americans nor East Indians in The Crucible, I was confused and asked to clarify what type of Indian we were supposed to write about. My English teacher replied, “Feathers, not dots.” Uhhh…okay.
Experience 4 (Birthday “traditions”): It was my birthday, and I was in my Chemistry class. My teacher asked me if today was the day that my people sacrificed a goat to a volcano. Literally wtf.
Experience 5 (Dancing): I competed in a local pageant for my town one year. For my talent, I did a Bollywood dance to the song Jai Ho by the Pussycat Dolls. I picked it because it was a blend of my Indian background and my American upbringing. One of the judges wrote on my scorecard “Arabian.” I was marked down.
Experience 6 (Reactions to Media Depictions): In another one of my classes—shortly after Slumdog Millionaire came out–my teacher was talking about what a dirty country India was, and asked me why people there were so corrupt.Â
Experience 7 (Brown Sisterhood): We had a girl in our class who was Fijian. She was absent one day and my teacher asked me if I knew where she was. “Sure, let me check my brown people radar real quick and see where she is.”
Experience 8 (National Anthem): We were learning about Indian history, and I thought it would be cool to share the national anthem with my class. While I played it, I saw people giving each other looks. They were laughing too. I had never been more embarrassed.
Experience 9 (The Swastika): In pre calculus, we were doing math art. I’m not sure what the point was exactly, but we drew lines to make a 3D object. The objects had to be linear, and my teacher said that if we drew a cross, we would get extra credit. I asked if I could draw a swastika—a symbol in my own religion. She shut down my suggestion immediately, and told me not to mention inappropriate things like that ever again. I told her the swastika wasn’t inappropriate–contrary to common belief, it didn’t originate with the Nazis, who stole it and twisted its meaning. It actually symbolized peace. My teacher told me to go outside until the end of class. I told her that I wouldn’t because if drawing a symbol of her religion meant extra credit, but drawing a symbol of my religion meant being sent outside, then something wasn’t right. I was given detention for the rest of the year. I still don’t regret my comments.
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Experience 10 (Labeling): At work, I had a customer come in and ask if the establishment was run by “Arabs.” Before I could even say anything, she went on to say that my people were “ruining America” and that “Arabs are not to be trusted.” I don’t think I had ever felt more concern for my safety before.
And finally, experience 11Â This little gem:
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Now that I live in Davis, I’m happy to say that I’m exposed to a more diverse group of peers. However, this ignorance I faced is far from over. Recently, JusReign and Waris Ahluwalia were stopped for wearing turbans at an airport. Waris Ahluwalia was removed from the flight and JusReign was forced to remove his turban (and then proceed to exit the area without his turban on). Some people have compared this to the removal of shoes at airport screenings. The thing is, a turban is a religious article of clothing. When your shoes are linked to your religious identity, then you may speak.Â
People fear and ridicule what they don’t understand. Growing up as a minority, I learned that I was constantly picked apart for being different. This was something that greatly affected my self-esteem—but now I have found my voice, and I’m here to speak about anything and everything that needs to be said.