People always ask me “What are you?” or “Where are you from?” and every time I find myself metaphysically probing my own psyche, my own existence. Questioning myself “Who or what even am I,” I naturally work my way down the socially imposed and acceptable labels – American (that’s not a ‘race/ethnicity’ and my ‘color’ doesn’t prove it), Asian (works on the ACT but not when people can see that I don’t look ‘Asian’), South Asian (too general and definitely not going to work at gatherings with other South Asians), Indian (but what kind, especially when it is an Indian asking), Punjabi (so what pind or village, something I keep forgetting). I go with the identity which most appeases my audience with the hopes of moving onwards to more productive, meaningful discussion. Sadly, I realize that no matter my response, I remain what my audience demands–not even wants, that would be too generous in my opinion–a textbook manifestation of the commonplace pictures, videos, music, and other media they’ve been fed of my people, my culture, my history regardless how far from the truth they stray. Therein lies a strong iron curtain of stereotypes, misconceptions, and mistruths that filter my entire existence–Damanpreet Singh becomes Domnicpreet Sing.
Interestingly, I actually came to this self-actualization in my high school US history class when reading W.E.B Du Bois’ “The Souls of Black Folk” and came across this “peculiar sensation” of “double consciousness, this sense of always looking at one’s self through the eyes of others, of measuring one’s soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity,” (Du Bois 2). He understood how I felt this “two-ness,” this limbo state lingering between “two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings,” (Du Bois 2). He sees me for what I am – “two warring ideals in one dark body,” (Du Bois 2). To be frank, I do not know where my own body fits in either societies I call ‘home’–that of a white America or my ethnic/racial Punjabi/Indian roots– nor how to react their exploitations of my essence. While W.E.B Du Bois engages with this ideology in the frame of being an African America male in the early 1900s United States, his thoughts do transcend and exist loudly in all diasporas worldwide. It even applies itself in articulating this feeling of otherness: how do this multiplicity of identities exist? I appreciate the ability to interact with many different ideas and modes of thinking, but how can I live authentically with these many identities–Domincpreet and Damanpreet– when they are constantly morphing and seeing their own selves the way those exploiting them demand?
Though I never imagined nor wished being the victim of rigid, bigoted racial structures, I ended up and still endure the complexities of white supremacy, the belief in the superiority in being white above all other components of one’s identity. As Professor Roberts expressed in his guest lecture, this system perpetuates oppression across all facets of life–social, economic, political–towards all non-white people (of color). Whiteness, the West, eurocentrism (it’s all the same) supersedes all perspectives. It holds its own view of the ‘other,’ the East and the South. I will call this conflicting identity ‘whiteness.’ I say I am from India, I am Punjabi and I love to– whiteness cuts me off. Whiteness imposes its view of me, the other, a view of impoverished children living in the slums against bright Holi colors flying in the air, snake charmers and everything from Walt Disney’s Aladdin, sudden Bollywood dances in the streets, turbans all around and all topped off with constant cow worship all day and every day. Whiteness does not assume, it knows for a fact that I am a math whiz bound for a job in IT or tech support with the ‘eccentric’ accent of the Simpson’s Apu. Whiteness does not think of India or Punjab, rather it dehumanizes it for being anything but white.
At a point in my life I even believed and embraced this. What else could I do? That was all I saw in music videos like Iggy Azalea’s “Bounce” or Coldplay’s “Hymn for a Weekend,” and in the sitcom “Outsourced.” My own brown Indian community embraced these modes. With loads of skin-whitening cream ads on the Indian TV channels and Priyanka Chopra’s single “Exotic,” my own people did not even dare to refute this depiction. They profited off it, so why fight it? Although I am more aware of the realities of westernization and the ‘white ideal’ school of thought, I cannot fully fathom how/why this is still the narrative of contemporary India and at a greater outlook, South Asia as a whole? I constantly face people and institutions insisting we live in a ‘post-racial’ world when in fact the issues of colonialism, capitalism, and Orientalism/exoticism still flourish and attack the identities of people of color like myself.
Returning back to the questions “What are you?” and “Where are you from?” I knew my response is just a formality; it doesn’t matter the same way millions of other brown and black voices fail to matter due to systemic exploitation of our peoples. Even though I formalized a self-actualization of my role as a cog in the grander scheme of white oppression, I already knew Du Bois’ concept of double consciousness. My brown identity, my ‘brownness,’ existed through the glance of my whiteness. I acted so as to please and comfort the status quo; I do not speak unless spoken to. I am valued only when we came across the chapters on Hinduism in history(even though I am a practice Sikh) as all Indians are Hindu or we talked about global poverty and the token Slumdog Millionaire can input and validate the teacher (who never even went to Asia, let alone India). I never mentioned Bollywood to my friends, it was not about Shah Rukh Khan or Saif Ali Khan, it was all about Tom Cruise and Tom Hanks. But when the Pussycat Dolls came out with their take on A. R. Rahaman’s “Jai Ho,” suddenly everyone’s been into Bollywood and I ‘just’ learned about it and hopped on the trend.
