Like a soldier in an enemy camp
She moves silently
Watchful eyes ahead
Ears perked to sounds behind.
Its a short walk to the store,
Just down the way and round the corner.
Yet in her heart she knows
Anything can happen in this short time.
Glancing down every driveway,
Scanning every street,
She looks for signs of life
That could be threatening
Not that she has seen any
Over the past 3 years
But anything can happen
In this short time.
Wait a second.
Her steps slow down
Almost stopping altogether.
A man turns the corner up ahead.
She begins walking again,
Slower than before as she approaches him
Eyes even sharper,
Ears now trained to the front.
As they pass each other,
She speeds up
Her ears once again perked behind
For sounds from a man who had said nothing
She reminds herself
she will see people as she walks
And in front of the store;
Nothing has happened…
“Yet.”
Says her heart.
Anything can happen
In this short time.
Tag: personal experience
Wanderlust
At 39, I finally got my US driver’s license and a car of my own. I used to drive my parents’ car in India; I have a driver’s license there, too. There are a differences here.
Apart from the obvious, of course – less traffic, better rules, the side we drive on…The other, more personal, difference is my mindset. Driving my parents’ car in India necessitated only driving the car when and where they wished. And that makes sense; the car is a convenience – and now a necessity – for them at this age.
But for me, it felt more and more like a chore to be driving from point to point for specific goals. The constant need for vigilance on roads that were too packed and – more often than not – like a battlefield of competing commuters trying to ‘get there first’, was exhausting. I rarely, if ever, got something out of it other than my parents, or myself, reaching the desired location.
Today, as I write this, I am contemplating how I have driven to another state (about an hour and a half away) 8 times since I got the car a month ago. I find myself wondering how long it will be before I’m on the road again, planning the next trip and allowing for changes in my plan. Almost like I’m reminding myself, reaffirming for myself, the fact that I have freedom here.
As a Third Culture Kid, I often felt rootless – not completely home in India, nor in Hong Kong. This was depressing as a child, as it felt like I never knew where I belonged. But it became liberating as an adult; I was not tied to any one place, which suited me just fine. Just like my tastes in music, film, food – and, indeed, life choices – I am a global citizen. I don’t give any one place more value than another; not by country, state or city.
Throughout my life, I learned several languages because I could. I talked about the differences of British rule in Hong Kong and India because I could. I chose to move to a country other than India or Hong Kong…because I could. I developed an awareness of the difference between discrimination and ignorance because I could. There’s a reason why “I can” indicates an ability AND a choice to do something.
This liberation to choose, however, was until recently stunted by the fact that I could not PHYSICALLY wander the way I wished. As a child, it was limited to what was decided by my parents. As an adult in India, it was a matter of linear travel; from point A to point B without diversion. Here, there was a freedom to be without a destination…but no way to enjoy it. In the end, I was restricted either by destination or by means; my rootlessness had limits.
The first time I drove to another state, I found myself wanting to go further. So, instead of just entering the state and then leaving it, I opted to stop at a gas station, get some food at a drive-thru, and the drive back home. None of this was planned – it was a spur of the moment decision made based simply on the fact that I could.
Having a car and being free to use it as needed or desired is, for me, a symbol. A symbol of travel without limits. A symbol of my pride in being rootless. A symbol of my wanderlust without boundaries.
Enjoy the Silence.
I have ADHD, I am considered an extrovert, and my being quiet has often led to others believing that I am depressed. The truth is, however…I recognize the importance of being with myself in silence.
How often do we face silence and either try to fill it with words or with doing something (like play with our phones)? Silence is difficult for most people – when we are with another person, we feel like there should be some form of communication happening. When there ISN’T anyone around, we seek them out virtually.
Admittedly, no man (or woman, or child) is an island. Social well-being is, after all, a part of our overall well-being. But words are not the only way we can be social. Indeed, verbal communication makes up only a quarter of what we are sharing with another.
Those silences? They are actually full of conversation, we just don’t realize it. Consider how some silences feel comfortable while others agitate us. How we perceive the silence depends on so many things – It might be the person we’re with, or the context, our expectations or what we think the other person expects. It may even be the impression we want to make.
Silence is, in fact, an opportunity to use our non-verbal skills to express what we would use words for. I recall sitting next to my sister in silence one day. She sat there on her phone, I sat next to her, desperately restraining myself from telling her “you know, it’s rude to be on your phone when I’m sitting right here. If nothing, at least we could DO something together”. I knew from experience, however, that verbalizing this often led to arguments which I did not want to waste my time on.
So, I tried something new – I turned towards her at an angle, took my phone out and fiddled with it, but looked up at her in intervals. At one point, she caught my eye and asked, “what?” My response was simple – “if you’re done, can we do something together?” I had not said anything to catch her attention, and yet she heard me loud and clear. There is a reason that non-verbal communication makes up more than half of our communication (if you’re wondering, the other quarter of communication is para-verbal, sounds that replace words (like grunts, or “m-hmm”).
Of course, at times it is silence because there IS no one to talk to; an imposed silence (unless you listen to music, watch something electronically, or talk to yourself). However, even in this case, silence can be valuable. It is in silence that we can focus our attention inwards. Physically, our senses do not need to work as hard as they do otherwise – there is nothing to hear, nothing to say. No observations to make of the person in front of us. Instead, we can hear sounds we would not have paid attention to otherwise, natural (birds singing, trees and leaves rustling) or not (whirring refrigerator or air conditioner). In fact, one of the strategies for mindfulness involves focusing on what our senses perceive in complete silence so as to validate existing in the present.
Meanwhile, silence does not necessarily mean inactivity – we may not move around much, but our minds most definitely are. What has happened, what is happening, what will happen…our minds do not stop. When we are ensconced in silence, with our senses demanding less of us, we have the opportunity to direct our thoughts the way WE want them to go, without having them directed by unconscious processes or emotional states. Self-reflection, questioning the validity of how we thought about events or experiences we had, gleaning from them what we learned and where we confirmed our old strengths and found new ones…silence can involve a great deal more growth than we give it credit for.
So embrace silence. Use it. It isn’t an unnecessary and redundant vacuum – it is full of possibilities.
Is it Time for a Change?
I have been working in the same place for 3 years now. I am a clinician and a clinical trainer. Simply put, I see clients and I also train others who will be seeing clients. This unique combination of roles came about when my employers realized that I had experience as a therapist AND as a teacher. Given my desire to help as many people as possible, even those who aren’t my clients, this dual role suited me perfectly.
At this point in my life I find myself in a quandary, however. In terms of career growth, it may well be time for me to move on. I am aware that I could be paid better, and that I am a valid candidate for jobs that I always wanted to take on. I would also have many more needs addressed if I moved on than if I stayed where I am. Although my clientele would change, I would still be helping people. Meanwhile, it could also address my pre-existing assumptions about the types of clients I would work with in different places.
Then again, it will be difficult to find a place where I can do what I am able to here. I have carved such a deep niche for myself here that I know my departure would significantly affect the organization that took a chance with me. This IS my first job after my MS degree, and in the US, after all. Meanwhile, this dual role of clinician and trainer came about to address difficulties that I myself was facing at work. At the same time, several individuals at the executive level have actively worked on me getting a higher salary. A part of me, then, feels guilty about leaving.
There is another, more personal, concern – being a Third-Culture Adult, it is often hard to stay in one place for too long – moving around is a natural part of who I am. The query, then, is whether or not my desire to move is actually based on self-development or giving in to a personal inclination which, in the end, could lead to me shooting myself in the foot.
This has led to me looking for other jobs but not applying for any. I notice a shift in my attention, however, from obstinately sticking to my current job to exploring other options. As my family has said in the past, just looking at other options doesn’t mean I’m going to get another job right away. And that is true. I do, however, know that there are quite a few places that would hire me if they knew I was looking for a job, my visa needs notwithstanding. I am licensed, hold three Masters and two Bachelors degrees, and have been working with clients from the age of 4 to 58 years the whole time that I have been working. I pride myself in being able to take on various tasks not related to my “job position” when it’s needed. Also, there is always a need for mental health professionals in some part of the world.
It has taken me 3 years to begin considering a change, and it has slowly phased into my life. First, looking at Indeed online. Then, downloading the app. Now, editing my resumé, which – ironically – is needed for my current job. The more I do, the more my ambivalence grows. I want to leave, but I don’t want to leave. Once again, bringing to mind simultaneously the fact that we all face ambivalence with regards to behavior change, and that we can never be our own therapists!
Today’s post is not about a therapeutic approach or how I observe and experience the world around me. Rather, it is a self-exploration that has yet to reach a conclusion. Stay tuned for further developments!
Kids Say the Darndest Things: The Case for Keeping it Simple
People say as you grow older, things become clearer thanks to our life experiences. I agree with that, but I noticed something different, too. I think we all could do with a little regression. Why would I suggest that we all go against our physical, cognitive and emotional progress? Because progress also means elaboration, which is sometimes completely unnecessary, or even harmful.
Think about it. How often have you heard a kid say something that startles you? Sometimes, they make you think about something in a whole new light, or answer a question in a way that we didn’t even think of ourselves. And perhaps the reason that it strikes us is because what we were pondering for hours, days, or maybe even years, was answered in less than 5 minutes by someone decades younger than us. And it stuns us because of how simple it was.
Kids wait for us to tell them what we think. But as adults, we start believing we can read another person’s thoughts. We plan meticulously how to create something, kids just leap into making it (and sometimes do it better than we ever could!) We keep thinking of success as a long, drawn-out and endless journey; kids celebrate successes every day, sometimes with us accompanying them in doing so.
We naturally evolve as we grow. Of course we see things as more complex, that not everything is black and white, it’s not all or nothing, etc, etc. Sometimes we ARE right, it’s not so simple. Even when it isn’t, however, just how far down the rabbit hole are we going to go? We think a single thought, go into “if a then b”, then it becomes “unless b is c, then if a then c”…our thoughts go from just a single thought to a web of thoughts, each with their own emotions, physical responses and behaviors. Kids say “but what if we just act on a and see what happens?”
In “The Value of Being Immature”, I mention that kids act and learn from consequences of their actions. As adults, we try to preempt negative consequences by thinking about what may happen if we do something. Sometimes we are able to avoid negative consequences, at other times we can’t. Because we can’t predict the result of our actions – the world is not under our control, nor can we predict how it will react to our actions.
If we do face negative consequences, we don’t just try again later, or think “ok, I’m not doing THAT again!” and try to think of another action instead – basically, what a kid might do. Instead, we tear apart our actions, we berate ourselves for not thinking about something in advance, we don’t try again or try to find another solution completely different from what we did earlier. We think and think about courses of action, worry ourselves about what could happen, and sometimes decide not to try at all.
How often have we thought about doing something, ‘predicted’ it would go badly, and stopped ourselves from doing it? It took me at least 15 years to start writing this blog, worrying about how people would react and deciding it was safer to keep my thoughts to myself. I realized I was getting suffocated by all these ideas that I wanted to share, so I finally acted. The world would react as it will.
It took even longer to tell my family how I felt about the roles they were either intentionally or unintentionally making me play which were at opposites to my true nature. My fear of excessively negative – and very hurtful – reactions was winning this fight, but suppressing my desire to say something hurt more, so I took the plunge. Sure enough, I had to weather a storm of negative consequences. But I felt freer, and over time they understood my point.
Kids truly are doing what we could benefit from doing ourselves. Speaking their minds because no one else can. Acting as they see fit because experiencing consequences themselves is the only way they can learn. Feeling how they feel without guilt or shame for feeling that way. Because every action has consequences, and we have no control over the response we will get (nor can we predict it). Because even as kids, we have the capacity to try again, to tolerate negative consequences and to terminate or replace our actions accordingly (again, with accompanying changes in thought and emotion). Because as adults, we do have more choices in how to think, act, and feel – and often the best choice is what we did as kids.
Just do it. Whatever will be will be.
The Value of Being Immature
I am a 39 years old woman. I have often, however, heard how I am naive, or child-like, or even immature. For the longest time, I resented being told these. It’s amazing how our perspectives can change with a little self-reflection.
It occurred to me one day that it is just as easy for me to be an adult as it is for me to be a child. Since I believe that no one thing can exist without its opposite (e.g. we know sadness because we know what happiness feels like, we know light because we’ve seen dark), it started to make sense that with being mature, we are naturally childish at times.
Thinking about it, I have always been able to develop relationships with kids. Indeed, when I started my current job, my clients were children for the most part. Out of 48 clients, I had – at one point – only 2 young adults. All the rest were between the ages of 4 and 10 years.
My child-like nature is what I use when I connect with my younger clients. I maintain confidentiality even with a 4 years old child (although I do tell them that I can help them tell something to their caregiver if they want). I play games with them, join them in their excitement at the little things, and – perhaps most importantly – ask parents not to consider behaviors as “bad” but rather as exploratory.
Exploration is one of the ways we learn. We try something out, if it leads to good consequences we keep doing it. If it doesn’t, we stop. Classic operant conditioning, right? It’s something we do throughout our lives, the difference being that we are capable of thinking before taking action as adults while, as children, we act and then learn from the consequences.
That doesn’t mean that we are always insightful as adults, though – we’ve all attempted something in our lives that hasn’t led to good consequences and decided not to do that again. After all, we are not omniscient, we can’t predict everything in the world. So, sometimes our explorations are much like those that kids do. Yes, sometimes we are ALL childish.
Going back to my belief that one thing can only exist because we know of its opposite, we often know we are being mature if we look at times when we were childish. The difference, however is HOW we look at it. What if we looked at our previous behavior without judgment? Not with “I can’t believe I ever thought that!” but rather with a sense of “well, that was I thought at the time” or “I learned something new from that”? And with the acceptance that taking action and facing negative consequences of it can happen again, and that would be OK?
Essentially, being childish isn’t a bad thing. Because it is a part of who we are – we had to be a child to get to where we are today. Valuing the child in us doesn’t negate our maturity – it adds to it.
Neurotic New York…?
A while ago, I read an article by Rentfrow, Gosling and Potter (2016) that correlated each state with one personality trait from Costa and McRae’s Big Five personality traits. Among the correlations, one that stayed in my mind was the correlation between New York and Neuroticism. To the unversed, neuroticism is “a tendency toward anxiety, depression, self-doubt, and other negative feelings” (from ‘Psychology Today’).
I was reminded of an incident that took place when I lived in New York. I was talking a stroll one day, and a man in a suit came from behind me and glared at me as he walked by, much like how a driver might do to a car that he has overtaken. The irony? When I came to the crosswalk, he was standing there just as I was…and studiously avoiding looking at me! Meanwhile, my mind went to one thing – “what’s wrong with taking it slow?”
Of course, there are people who enjoy the hustle and bustle of New York, and some people thrive in the constantly moving, ever animated city. The endlessly changing landscape that leads to whole new experiences of the city within the span of a few months has its appeal, as does the continuous growth that New York embodies. Indeed, I have received my share of incredulous looks because I prefer Springfield to New York – how can you NOT love New York?
For me, while I lived in New York, the energy around me made me walk faster, think faster, and always wonder what was next. Thinking about step 16 when I was only on step 2 became a norm. Making plans, changing them, making new ones – how can I tackle this activity most efficiently so I can spend less time on it, do well on it and also go on to the next activity? There was no time to enjoy what I had succeeded at doing – because there was always something I hadn’t even started on yet.
But it took moving to a quiet city that confirmed for me the fact that the “New York me” wasn’t actually who I am. Taking strolls, stopping oh-so-often to simply look at the sky or listen to a bird, people-watching, asking someone I see regularly how they are and actually stopping to hear their answers…for me, these seem natural. These little acts are where I stop for a second, where I take my little breaks in the rat race of life.
The great Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu once said, “If you are depressed you are living in the past. If you are anxious you are living in the future. If you are at peace you are living in the present.” From a therapist’s perspective, that makes perfect sense. Indeed, depression and anxiety are two sides of the same coin for a reason; you’re anxious about something coming up, your anxiety affects how you do at it, you remember this “failure” and it is a source of depression for you. You then become anxious that you never want to do that poorly again, something new comes up, your anxiety gets in the way, and the cycle begins again.
Vacillating between frenetic efforts to be perfect, and listlessness when reality hits us that we are not, seems a part of life in more fast-paced worlds. Being like King Sisyphus, cursed to eternally push a boulder uphill, only it is not Zeus but our very own natures that have cursed us. Movement is a lack of staying still. Having ADHD, I know that it is sometimes just HARD to stay still! But moving all the time isn’t healthy, either – the word “peace” itself does not conjure up an image of motion, but one of rest.
Peace comes through living in the here and now. As it is characterized by stillness, physical or otherwise, movement is missing. For those who are constantly on the move, being still may be seen as a waste of time. Still, although things slow down, they do not stop just because we take our lives a day at a time. You will lose nothing by waiting for the pedestrian light to turn green (or white) instead of jaywalking – that bus is not the last one. It will not be the end of the world if you do not buy all the groceries you need in a single trip, the things you missed will still be there the next time you go. The sun will not disappear forever if you put your phone away for the duration of your commute home; rather, there may be something worth seeing out there instead!
So, do I believe in the correlation that New York has with Neuroticism? Without a doubt. But do I believe that every New Yorker is doomed to be neurotic? No. As long as we stay in the present, even for an hour a day, each and every one of us can avoid that fate. But that’s just what I think.
Extravert: to be or not to be?
Everyone who has ever met me (and not just those who know me) know that I am a friendly outgoing person. In fact, I was once told that I was the epitome of extraversion! I often smile at people as I pass them on the street, and I might even say “hello”. I talk to everyone, which has at times annoyed family members who wonder why I know people after spending a week somewhere.
In my family, there are just two of us who are like this – my father and myself. But this is where our similarity in sociability ends – because despite how I am to the outside world, I actually prefer to be alone. I noted earlier that I was told I am the epitome of extraversion? Personally, I prefer not to be.
Jung’s personality traits include introversion-extraversion as one of the dimensions. However, with time and through various iterations of the concept (including in the Big Five model of personality), the original form has been lost. Jung defined extraversion as “a mode of psychological orientation where the movement of energy is toward the outer world” (Luton, retrieved on 7/9/2020). Introversion, meanwhile, is defined as “a mode of psychological orientation where the movement of energy is toward the inner world” (ibid.)
What does that mean? It means that extraversion and introversion are not limited to one’s sociability, but are actually related to how we think of our world. In the former, our thought processes are predominantly led by the influence of the world around us – people, places, objects, anything we encounter outside of us. Introversion, meanwhile, refers to the trait where our thoughts processes are predominantly guided by our own personal belief systems and internalized values.
Thinking of extraversion-introversion in its original form, it is more of how we process information than how friendly we are. Extraversion and introversion are also dynamic, meaning someone may vary between the two throughout their lifespans. In addition, since introversion and extraversion exist on a spectrum, it is possible to be at a lower level of extraversion or a higher one. The same is true for introversion. However, no matter what, you are only ever predominantly one.
I believe that I am indeed predominantly an introvert. When it comes to making decisions, or reflecting on them, I do so from my own personal perspective and am less guided by the perspectives, thoughts or observations from the world around me. Part of that comes from how exhausting it is to “keep up with the joneses”, to fit my perspectives and beliefs off of what I get from the world around me which is oftentimes not agreeable with my personality. The other part emerges from my belief that, like everyone else, my life and my expereinces are unique to me. Referring to the outside world to process information hence doesn’t make sense to me.
However, trying to explain this to individuals who see me as solely an extravert because of how sociable I am has often proven to be an unsuccessful endeavor. Instead, I have begun to define myself as a “reluctant extravert”.
What do I mean? Basically, although I interact with the world around me more than other people would, I do so through my personal lens, finding evidence for and against my personal thoughts and beliefs (as I usually do as an eternal student). At the same time, since no man is an island, I often have to compromise my personal perspective to take into account the valid perspectives of others. While I may not be averse to doing so professionally, it is more of a problem when I have to do it in the outside world. However, my desire to avoid conflict often wins out in that battle. Hence, I am a reluctant extravert.
That’s not to say people cannot be extraverts and proud of it, or introverts who are comfortable with neing themselves in the world around me. But it is my insecurity that leaves me as a reluctant extravert and another person as a reluctant introvert. I wish I could be brave enough to make my own decisions without worrying about the potential conflict with others from doing so. Just the way I do when I’m alone.
Meanwhile, the reluctant introvert may wish to ask others or refer to others when making decisions but is unable to either becaise of fear of judgment or simply because there is no one to ask.
Just a thought. I have no evidence for what I’ve written here other than my own experience. But if this thought has elicited self-reflection, then it has done its job.
Mirroring: A Subtle Way to Effect Change.
I’ve grown up in a house of noise. My mom’s hearing has always been a problem since we were young, and my dad’s absentmindedness often left us feeling like we had to be particularly loud to be heard (or that he had to be). Sometimes it felt like we were all vying for attention, with one person’s voice being drowned out by another’s. Conversations, TV shows, music…all of it was at decibel levels that might even be considered noise pollution! Add to that the fact that I have ADHD and often don’t pay attention to how loud I get when I’m excited, and you have a therapist who sticks to a professional volume in the office, but not outside of it!
This higher decibel level at which I talk is completely opposite to my nature, however. As a kid, the lack of predictability in the response people had when I came in taught me to always come in quietly. In fact, I have been guilty of startling people with an alarming frequency because I unwittingly make no noise coming into a room. As a countermeasure, I learned to announce my entrance before I came into a room, at least when I’m on my own, either by starting to speak before coming in or wearing high heels!
In all cases, I do attempt to lower my volume. What caught my attention, however, is how bashful or apologetic a person appeared when they told me to tone it down. Or how they would apologize after saying it. Indeed, there’s been a few times when I’ve had to tell them “it’s fine, I didn’t realize how loud I got!” There have been times where I’ve been on the other side, too. People who talk too loudly, or too much. My running thought is usually “wow, so THAT’S how I sound!”. I guess my tolerance for these people comes from the fact that I can identify with them.
But it is possible to bring down the tone without making a clear statement when the concern is of offending the person. How? Mirroring.
Mirroring is a subconscious form of communication where thoughts, behaviors or emotions expressed by one individual elicit a same or similar state in the other individual. Kind of like when we spend time with someone who’s in a good mood (and we’re feeling neutral) we start feeling good, too. Or when we talk about “infectious smiles” – the smile of the other person automatically brings out one of our own.
Talking to someone who is excited in a calm voice while still using words expressing excitement is one way to help the individual calm down. The verbal message is the same as the person is expressing. But the energy level in the paraverbal (i.e.. tone, volume, pitch, etc) and non-verbal communication is intentionally less than the speaker’s. The speaker, if (s)he feels connected to the listener, will unintentionally be calmer non-verbally and paraverbally.
You might have noticed that I added a couple of caveats here. One, mirroring of emotional states is more effective when the states aren’t too diametrically opposite; and two, there must be a degree of rapport between the individuals.
For the first point, it is more likely that we can connect with an angry individual by being calm rather than by being happy. Anger and happiness are antagonistic enough that the individual couldn’t mirror the emotion even if it was intentional. When the individual becomes calm, mirroring can then involve happiness, as it is no longer beyond the brain’s capacity to transition between the emotional states.
The second point is that of rapport. For one’s internal state to be influenced by another’s, there must be enough value given to the relationship by both individuals. Just as one will not willingly talk about their internal states with a stranger unless they can trust them, one will not br influenced by the internal state of another unless they trust the person. Rapport and connection with the listener, or the person expressing the emotional state that should be mirrored, allows for the speaker to trust that emotional state even if it did not originate with them.
Ask yourselves – is this a technique that you can see yourself using professionally or personally? How would it help? Where would you need to be careful?
Discrimination and being a Multicultural Adult
Over the past few months, there has been growing unrest regarding the assaults – and sometimes murders – of black people at the hands of the police. Indeed, these protests have spread globally. Some of you who read this may find issue with what I write. However, whatever I write here is my personal experience and thoughts as a multicultural adult. And the issues that are being faced by Black people around the world made me question where I stand in my little microcosm.
I am a Third Culture Adult, or TCA. What is that? Recken and Pollock (1999) defined Third Culture Kids (or TCKs) as “persons raised in a culture other than their parents’ or the culture of the country named on their passport (where they are legally considered native) for a significant part of their early development years.” So, I grew up as an Indian in Hong Kong for the first 18 years of my life. Extend with age, and you have Third Culture Adults.
It does not completely encompass me, however, so I have begun using the term multicultural more often to describe my cultural identity. As a young adult, I spent 13 years in India where I gained even more values relating to my Indian identity. Having been exposed to US culture growing up, and then living here for the past 7 years, has led to me identifying with values here as well.
So, why this info? Because of how I experienced discrimination, not just towards my race but towards all the cultures that I identify with.
An article came out recently that the Indian minority is being used by the government of a particular country as a counterpart to the systemic racism faced by black people, and it spurred me to write this. Basically, the governing body was providing ‘evidence’ that Indians in their country were financially and occupationally successful, so that meant that racism wasn’t an issue.
In my personal life, I can agree to some extent, and disagree to another. First of all, finances and occupation are not the only areas where racism may exist. However, I will admit that I have not experienced racism in these areas. Having lived in affluent Hong Kong for 18 years before moving to India, our family could be considered quite well-off. Likewise, I have never worked part-time, and have only ever held full-time jobs (albeit in a poorly paid but emotionally rewarding field).
That is not to say I have not faced micro-aggressions due to my identity. From bullying and social exclusion as an Indian child in British-occupied Hong Kong to discrimination on how I walked, talked and dressed in India, to responses from educators in both countries, micro-aggressions were so rampant that I thought they were ‘normal’.
Nonetheless, they were exhausting to deal with. So I made a choice to go to a country where the world’s perception of my identity and what it truly is was similar – where we both could agree “what I am” for lack of a better expression. After all, both the world around me and I agree that I am not American.
Then I started working as a therapist. You’d think we are all culturally aware. Not true. Unfortunately, this didn’t mean there was a reduction in micro-aggressions, just new ones. At the start, they were within my education. Peers unwilling to help a newcomer find people for field work. Teachers asking “oh, so you grew up in British-occupied Hong Kong? You must speak the Queen’s English”. Being suggested to do another Masters degree on top of the two I already had because “doing a Masters in India doesn’t really prepare you for doing a Doctorate in the US”.
Turns out choosing to do my third Masters in the US was a blessing in disguise – it was more suited to what I wanted to do, plus I had more culturally competent teachers who didn’t judge me because of my cultural identity. There were more questions of curiosity about my cultures rather than assumptions. And I was looked at solely for my academic skills.
Then I started working as a therapist. You’d think we are all culturally aware. Not true. One colleague asked “Oh you’re Indian? I don’t know if this question is appropriate, but…dot or feather?” I took it as a question of curiosity. My answer? “I’m an Indian with a dot. I’m East Indian not American Indian”. She needed education, I gave it to her. Let me also add that she stuck to using East Indian after that interaction.
Here, however, was a different type of discrimination – my friends wondered why I didn’t consider that discrimination. Why wasn’t I upset that my colleague had asked that? Why wasn’t I identifying it as a micro-aggression? To me, however, these questions could not be assumed as discriminatory. Yes, the question was assumptive. Indians are not just identified by a dot or a feather. But it was a learning experience for her, and – for me – the positive emotion associated with a successful learning experience trumps the negative emotion of a racial micro-aggression.
Compare this with another experience that I had with another colleague. As I prepared for my licensure exam, a mentor (yes, a mentor) stated, “it must be hard for you because of the language gap, since it’s in English”. I figured this, too, was to be a learning experience, so I clarified “well, even if English isn’t my native language it is my first language – I grew up going to British schools, and the first language I learned was English. My parents would only speak to us in English, too, so that we wouldn’t get confused”. And here is where it differed. Her response was, “but still, being Indian it must be hard”. No learning, just a pretty firm hold on her belief that my skill at the English language was inferior because I was Indian. THAT was an unacceptable micro-aggression.
I guess the question I always land up asking myself is this – where do we draw the line between what is discrimination and what is innocent questioning? Not everyone experiences the world the same way. Many people haven’t ever left their own countries, or even their own cities. They learn how to express themselves from the people around them. Yes, I may be more aware of micro-aggressions in New York city as compared to, say, a small town in Wisconsin. But if, in the end, they leading to learning…if they can be corrected and that correction becomes a part of their mindset and behavior…do we really have to continue carrying it with us?