Monday, May 24, 2010

Week 7: Race


I have always identified myself as a South Asian-American. My mother is Indian and my father is Pakistani, but I was born and raised in California without considering myself the 'outsider.' There were a number of events in my life that made me aware of my race, and how I was different from the other children I went to school with.

I attended a montessori school when I was about 4, and I remember the majority of children being Asian. One day we had our parents come to class and speak about their cultures. I remember my mother being the only parent who was asked the most questions. "Why do you eat that?' What's on your hand?' 'Why don't you wear a dot on your forehead?" Looking back now, I realize that was probably the first time I figured out I wasn't like everyone else in a school where we learned America was a 'melting pot.' However, after that montessori school, I was moved to a private Muslim school for 10 years (until high school, minus the 5th grade) where I was like everyone else, and everyone was like me--so it wasn't until one day that everything became a little twisted.

After 9/11, it wasn't only my race that excluded me from my society. All of a sudden, I wasn't "Pakistani" anymore. I subconciously made the decision to hide my real identity from people I didn't know too well. If anyone asked, I was Indian, or Asian--either one was safer than being associated with anything close to 9/11 (I had honestly tried to stick to the truth, and I dealt with the consequences).

I'm still not sure whether I regret what I did in the past was the right thing to do. Today I just hope our future generations never have to deal with hiding their identity or suffer from being proud of it.

1 comment:

  1. Thank you for this reflection on your own racial identity, Saba. What a vivid story of your childhood realization that you were somehow different from your young classmates.

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