On June 8, I was suspended in air and time between New Delhi, India and Bangkok, Thailand. I was traveling with IU2U, a program that holds pre-orientation workshops abroad for incoming IU international students. The plane became a transitional vessel, not only physically, but also figuratively. I sat with my seat in its upright position, too wired to sleep, as I acknowledged my confusing, often conflicting identities. The last two cities I had been in were New Delhi and Dubai, where Hindi is a primary language. My brown skin lets me pass on the street without stares, but my English words in an American accent give me away. It’s a discrepancy that locals often can’t help but point out: in Gurgaon, a family scrutinized me for not knowing Hindi, but did a double take when I smoothly said “aunty” instead of “misses”. I was tested on my Indian-ness, just as I’m tested on my American-ness in the States.
In Thailand, I didn’t look or sound like most people, and for the first time, I didn’t have to. As an unarguable foreigner, I had nothing to prove and was relieved to let my guard down. I talked to Ralph, Jan and Jean – some of the students from the Thai Student Association who came to the Bangkok workshop – about things as trivial as pumpkin pie and winter weather. The feeling of being so foreign that there is nothing to lose moved me.
I remember attending elementary school in my mostly-white Ohio suburb. At parent open houses at school, the other Indian mothers would gravitate toward my own, expressing relief that their child could be friends with me. I would be furious – offended that they would want to be my friend solely because the color of my skin matched. I look back at that haunting memory and cringe. I am embarrassed that I tried to reject my heritage, because now I understand what it’s like to be the only person of color in a room and the support that I long for in those situations. In the years since then, I’ve learned to develop a grit, a toughness, though sometimes thin, and feel a similar sense of camaraderie when I see other minorities.
During IU2U’s workshop check-ins, when parents saw me, I saw the same look in their eyes as of Indian parents’ in my elementary school: comfort and relief. This time I was able to redeem my 9-year-old self – I welcomed these families. I did what I could to calm their nerves, understand their concerns and offer my insight.
That’s my goal from now on – to be a champion of minorities in America. I was part of a team through the Asian American Journalists Association’s VOICES college program that produced a story about the lack of newsroom diversity. I have begun crafting a proposal to the Media School to improve its diversity and services. I want to write an investigative report about diversity at IU – a school that touts its legacy “of rich diversity and inclusivity”, but has a high non-minority population of 79%. There are changes I want to see, changes that need to happen, and I am excited to be around to help them to fruition.