“What if People Think We Are Something We Aren’t”
On my 21st birthday, mom, Shamik (my twin brother), Ba (Grandma), Dada (grandfather), and I went to our childhood temple for the first time in a long time. It was mix of uneasiness and excitement, to be honest. Excited that I was going to the temple, but uneasy at the thought that I was a year older- entering adulthood. As I got ready I wrapped a yellow chiffon bandhani sari around my body and matched it with a hot pink blouse.
As I walk out of my room, my mom asks, “Aren’t you going to take a change of clothes for when we leave the temple?”
“No mom, I’m comfortable wearing this…I don’t need a change of clothes.” I replied
“Palak I think you should take a change of clothes, what if people think we’re something that we aren’t”.
Let that dialogue sink in.
I stood there in the doorway of my room in complete shock.
“Mom how can you even say something like that. This is the exact thing we are trying to combat and change in the world. The way we dress should not be something to fear! This is our culture- why should we feel scared to express who we are!” I yelled.
What I find shocking sometimes is the amount of internalized fear and post 9/11 paranoia that some of my family members and mother have. I do not blame them for feeling the way they do but it is so unfortunate that South Asians and SWANA identified people carry this same fear. Clothing is a cultural artifact and a timeless object of home. How can something so pure become a symbol of hate and terror. Ancient methods of weaving silk and dying cotton have been embedded into each and every stitch of our clothing and brilliant garb. Our heritage is constantly preserved and pushed to the next level through our clothing.
Since high school I’ve taken many kurtis and chunnis from my mom’s closet and mixed them with western articles of clothing. Being the one out of three Indians at my high school, I felt the need to interject my culture in everything. Wearing desi clothes to school felt necessary, almost as if the world needed to see how beautiful Indian clothing is. Once I came to college, I truly realized how important it was for brown bodies and bodies of color to wear clothing of their ancestors and take pride in cultural markers specific to their personal narratives and lives. My love for my culture began with the aesthetic pleasure of Indian art and depictions of Hindu Gods and Goddesses. These gods and goddesses would be covered in delicate gems fixed in gold, male gods would wear earrings and jewelry all over their bodies. These mythical beings would be adorned in the prettiest silk saris and dothis, waves of saffron and parrot green would wrap around their bodies, as if they had been covered in vines and fruit from a garden. These lush memories of early childhood and adolescence allow me to appreciate the exquisite artistry of the clothing of my culture.
Hearing my mom say those words felt like an ice cube had slipped down my back. Those words made me think of the reality of assimilation and how powerful its wrath truly is. Our need to uphold eurocentric beauty standards and fashion standards have led to the erasure of feeling safe in our own ethnic wear. Looking at the example of my own mother it astonished me that someone who had been wearing saris and salwars her whole life now felt unsafe in clothing she was essentially born wearing. The treatment of Islamophobia and terrorist anxiety in the western world today has facilitated a type of minority resistance within youth, but also created a type of panic for our parent’s generation. Our defiance and blatant refusal of societies norms has created a shift in power dynamics within today’s minority youth culture. Our aim to reclaim our identities and homelands of colonized pasts motivate us to stray away from what we are being fed in a racist, homophobic, transphobic, and white supremacist institution of higher education and everyday life.
After that experience on my 21st birthday, I have made a conscious effort to embed a reminder of my homeland everywhere I go. I try to do something everyday that keeps my culture alive within me. It ranges from saying a prayer in the morning, to wearing desi earrings, to wearing Indian chappal on jeans. I made a vow to myself to never be ashamed or fearful of what others think about my culture or choice of dress. I find empowerment within my culture’s history of handloom and textile art. Our determination to change the outside’s view of our inside, comes with the persistence of first embracing our own inside.
