Post by dk on Nov 19, 2006 19:59:27 GMT -5
“Where are you from?”
by Rita
Every person of colour’s favourite question! Oh sorry, allow me to be more inclusive, you too could be so lucky to be asked this question on a daily basis or from time to time if you speak with an accent other than anglo-canadian! We, the supposed “minorities” in Canada, but not in the world because we all know who the real minority is, we pick and choose who merits what type of response. I once responded that I was from the Macadamian Islands to see if someone would believe me, and he did… until I started laughing. I decide who to tell what to, and what I tell changes as I do from day to day, as I further explore the social construction of my reality. It is aggravating to constantly be questioned on whether or not you are really a “Canadian” especially when you’ve lived here all your life, or most of it. At the same time I think to myself, if it wasn’t for that question, maybe I wouldn’t be so curious about where I came from, my roots, what brings me to be here and now.
I was born in Damour, Lebanon in 1975 in the midst of a civil war, my parents fleeing their homes with a newly born child in their arms. “D’amour” is a French word meaning “of love”, a persistent reminder of French colonial history and the Orientalist fascination with my place of birth. Lebanon used to be one region with Palestine, Syria and Jordan called Bilad El Sham but we were divided into nation-states due to French and English interventions… i still get lumps in my throat from the unspoken traumas, my parents regrets, being uprooted from my extended family, the guilt of growing up with my mother’s unmet expectations for her life projected on me, longing for a native land to be part of intimately, the immense tragedy of war and genocide, the silence about politics religion and sex in my family, the immigrant’s dream of going back home, the reality that Canada is racist, that there is no safe home to go to… I became an immigrant at the age of 6 months, and my second home became Ottawa, Ontario. I spent some of my childhood there, going to school with mostly working-class French-Canadian kids, and some working-class Portuguese and Lebanese-Canadian kids. I generally felt out of place in school. I was different not only because of my culture, but also because I was labeled "gifted" which meant that to the other kids, I was a "nerd". In my culture, high achievement in school is the single most important thing for a girl or a boy. Yup, it is actually very cool to be super smart in school. Not so in a country that is considered to be so "civilized" and "advanced" yet where many girls and women might pretend to be "dumb" in order to be popular. I remember hiding my lunch in shame because I had pita bread sandwiches, not knowing that one day, the pita wrap would become a trend for all Westerners to enjoy!
When I was 11 years old, my family moved to Victoria, BC, interestingly enough because the climate and landscape reminded my dad of being back home. This place became my third home… I know, I know, I am privileged, to be here in this beautiful country, First Nations country, multicultural country (you might argue it isn’t really that, well it is in my world!), I can move comfortably between spaces and communities, sometimes I am mistaken for European, I connect with cultures from across the world because I could be from anywhere, got my university degree, can speak English-french-and almost Arabic fluently… So I came into puberty, the most awkward time in my life, in such a hostile atmosphere to my growing and changing body. Here I was, a young Arab-Lebanese-Franco-Canadian girl coming to be my rebellious, ever inquisitive self within Anglo homogeneity. That made for some pretty embarrassing social situations that I will not get into now. I didn’t know to call it racism, but I learned to talk back, and deconstruct reality, because afterall, how can it be true if it hurts so many people! Throughout high school though, I really thought that there was something wrong with ME! I thought obsessively and compulsively to myself, if only I was thinner, if only I had smaller hips, butt and thighs then I would be loved and happy. If only I was prettier - if I had a smaller nose, if I was less hairy, if I had nicer skin, then I wouldn't be so self-conscious and people would find me attractive and I would be happy. And of course, if only I was more popular, if my immigrant parents could afford nicer, name brand clothes, and if I was allowed to go out late and date, then I would be accepted, I would fit in, and I would be happy. I honestly felt that it was my fault for being "ugly" "fat" and "stupid". If only other kids' laughing, teasing, and whispers didn't hurt so much. Gratefully, I have the ability to look back and re-write my history, because if I were to still believe the “big white lies” that were instilled in me by school, the media and even my own family, I would still be a victim of my own internalized psychic hell.
So, I write this article in an attempt to untangle where I came from. This is not exactly where I came from but rather a partial deconstruction of where I came from. I am putting the pieces together as I go, trying to sort out what are my family’s issues, what are my culture’s issues, what is internalized colonialism, and how I can use this knowledge to move forward in the world as an activist! Where I came from is where I am and also where I am going. It shapes my dreams of what the world looks like that I would like to live in. Even if I don’t exactly understand how humanity got to this point, I do believe in the power of dreaming, intention, and creation. I dream and intend to create a world where sexualities, genders, cultures and multiples selves can live in harmony, where diversity is a given not a policy, where every human has their basic needs met and where we are free to express and be creative with peace. I find home in the faces and hearts of friends and family who are working towards this vision with me. I write in the hopes that someone will hear this who needs to, and who will say: “yeah, I feel you”! Where are you from? I am from a place in the making, yet to be imagined, and that my friends is another response to a fully loaded question that people best keep to themselves, unless they have a few hours to listen!
This is dedicated to all artists, activists and community builders who refuse oppression and who dream of a better world for our children… to all the writers of colour who inspired me with their own courage to write what’s difficult to name… and to peace in the Middle East.
by Rita
Every person of colour’s favourite question! Oh sorry, allow me to be more inclusive, you too could be so lucky to be asked this question on a daily basis or from time to time if you speak with an accent other than anglo-canadian! We, the supposed “minorities” in Canada, but not in the world because we all know who the real minority is, we pick and choose who merits what type of response. I once responded that I was from the Macadamian Islands to see if someone would believe me, and he did… until I started laughing. I decide who to tell what to, and what I tell changes as I do from day to day, as I further explore the social construction of my reality. It is aggravating to constantly be questioned on whether or not you are really a “Canadian” especially when you’ve lived here all your life, or most of it. At the same time I think to myself, if it wasn’t for that question, maybe I wouldn’t be so curious about where I came from, my roots, what brings me to be here and now.
I was born in Damour, Lebanon in 1975 in the midst of a civil war, my parents fleeing their homes with a newly born child in their arms. “D’amour” is a French word meaning “of love”, a persistent reminder of French colonial history and the Orientalist fascination with my place of birth. Lebanon used to be one region with Palestine, Syria and Jordan called Bilad El Sham but we were divided into nation-states due to French and English interventions… i still get lumps in my throat from the unspoken traumas, my parents regrets, being uprooted from my extended family, the guilt of growing up with my mother’s unmet expectations for her life projected on me, longing for a native land to be part of intimately, the immense tragedy of war and genocide, the silence about politics religion and sex in my family, the immigrant’s dream of going back home, the reality that Canada is racist, that there is no safe home to go to… I became an immigrant at the age of 6 months, and my second home became Ottawa, Ontario. I spent some of my childhood there, going to school with mostly working-class French-Canadian kids, and some working-class Portuguese and Lebanese-Canadian kids. I generally felt out of place in school. I was different not only because of my culture, but also because I was labeled "gifted" which meant that to the other kids, I was a "nerd". In my culture, high achievement in school is the single most important thing for a girl or a boy. Yup, it is actually very cool to be super smart in school. Not so in a country that is considered to be so "civilized" and "advanced" yet where many girls and women might pretend to be "dumb" in order to be popular. I remember hiding my lunch in shame because I had pita bread sandwiches, not knowing that one day, the pita wrap would become a trend for all Westerners to enjoy!
When I was 11 years old, my family moved to Victoria, BC, interestingly enough because the climate and landscape reminded my dad of being back home. This place became my third home… I know, I know, I am privileged, to be here in this beautiful country, First Nations country, multicultural country (you might argue it isn’t really that, well it is in my world!), I can move comfortably between spaces and communities, sometimes I am mistaken for European, I connect with cultures from across the world because I could be from anywhere, got my university degree, can speak English-french-and almost Arabic fluently… So I came into puberty, the most awkward time in my life, in such a hostile atmosphere to my growing and changing body. Here I was, a young Arab-Lebanese-Franco-Canadian girl coming to be my rebellious, ever inquisitive self within Anglo homogeneity. That made for some pretty embarrassing social situations that I will not get into now. I didn’t know to call it racism, but I learned to talk back, and deconstruct reality, because afterall, how can it be true if it hurts so many people! Throughout high school though, I really thought that there was something wrong with ME! I thought obsessively and compulsively to myself, if only I was thinner, if only I had smaller hips, butt and thighs then I would be loved and happy. If only I was prettier - if I had a smaller nose, if I was less hairy, if I had nicer skin, then I wouldn't be so self-conscious and people would find me attractive and I would be happy. And of course, if only I was more popular, if my immigrant parents could afford nicer, name brand clothes, and if I was allowed to go out late and date, then I would be accepted, I would fit in, and I would be happy. I honestly felt that it was my fault for being "ugly" "fat" and "stupid". If only other kids' laughing, teasing, and whispers didn't hurt so much. Gratefully, I have the ability to look back and re-write my history, because if I were to still believe the “big white lies” that were instilled in me by school, the media and even my own family, I would still be a victim of my own internalized psychic hell.
So, I write this article in an attempt to untangle where I came from. This is not exactly where I came from but rather a partial deconstruction of where I came from. I am putting the pieces together as I go, trying to sort out what are my family’s issues, what are my culture’s issues, what is internalized colonialism, and how I can use this knowledge to move forward in the world as an activist! Where I came from is where I am and also where I am going. It shapes my dreams of what the world looks like that I would like to live in. Even if I don’t exactly understand how humanity got to this point, I do believe in the power of dreaming, intention, and creation. I dream and intend to create a world where sexualities, genders, cultures and multiples selves can live in harmony, where diversity is a given not a policy, where every human has their basic needs met and where we are free to express and be creative with peace. I find home in the faces and hearts of friends and family who are working towards this vision with me. I write in the hopes that someone will hear this who needs to, and who will say: “yeah, I feel you”! Where are you from? I am from a place in the making, yet to be imagined, and that my friends is another response to a fully loaded question that people best keep to themselves, unless they have a few hours to listen!
This is dedicated to all artists, activists and community builders who refuse oppression and who dream of a better world for our children… to all the writers of colour who inspired me with their own courage to write what’s difficult to name… and to peace in the Middle East.