Belonging To...

Belonging To

In the wake of the war in Ukraine, the media have changed their tone when reporting on refugees, the aid they need, and the compassion they deserve. The response from the western world has been starkly different in comparison to the previous vilification of refugees of colour. Gobiga Ramachandran shares her thoughts on her identity as a Swiss-Tamil woman, and how this obvious hierarchising of human value based on skin tone has affected her sense of belonging.

Gobiga Ramachandran

Artwork by Anna Morrissey

Where are you from?

 

Either Swiss, or the district I’m living in

 

No, but where are you really from?

 

Do you mean my ethnic background?

 

Yeah..

 

This is one of the many things I get asked when meeting someone for the first time. When I was younger, I didn’t understand the meaning behind it all, why someone would ask me that. But now I can see that it’s either, to ask me about my cultural background, or just to justify their assumption about me.

 

What I’ve learnt is to ask the same thing back. How do you think they react to this? *shock* *gasp* They are irritated, because why would I ask them that specific question. The good thing is, they then scrutinise their question. I do, and want to believe, they realise to a certain extent how that question could make someone feel…

 

Over and over again, I have asked myself this question too in the past few years. This may come as a surprise, but really, where do I belong?

 

Where am I from?

 

Growing up in a country where I would see two, maybe three non-white people here and there in school settings, on the streets, in shopping malls etc. How did that affect me? Honestly, I didn’t think too much about it, prior to my 20s. In my early teens, my parents encouraged me to visit a Tamil* school to improve my speaking and writing skills in Tamil. Later I joined classical dance classes and I took singing lessons. So, you could say that I was regularly in touch with people with similar backgrounds. Yet, as soon as I finished Tamil school and stopped practicing dance and singing, I parted ways with most of my Tamil friends, in part because I couldn’t identify myself as being “typically” Tamil. In my mid 20s, I felt much more connected to my white friends, I felt I could relate to them more and so I began to become more and more like them. I never dressed a certain way, but I would look up ‘western’ style online, which also drew me more towards the ‘western life-style’. Looking back now, I can see I was growing up trying to fit in to a culture I was only ever a minor part of.

 

Once I turned 18, I don’t know what changed specifically, if it was a moment of self-reflection or just my personal growth. But I started to tell more people in my social life about the cultural difficulties I was facing. I also began to notice that, when telling my white friends about my experience, they didn’t fully understand me.

 

So, I joined a Tamil association to feel more connected to Tamils my age. And last year I met someone, also with a Tamil and Swiss background, who described herself as a “coconut.” To some it could sound stupid, but for me, that was exactly how I felt throughout the past years. I looked brown, but the way I would talk and dress myself was typically “white.” Instantly I felt connected to her, but shortly after I asked myself, is that how I want to be?

 

What I want to be is someone who represents both, the root that goes back to my ancestors and the place I was born and grew up in. I want people to see me for who I am as a person no more, no less. Accepting everyone for their true nature is in my eyes what is beautiful. That’s why it’s so disappointing to see nothing change in 2022. It’s frustrating and upsetting to see how people continue to treat others differently based on their skin colour and background. An ongoing global chaos.

 

We are often told that the chaos of the world is fading away, we believe that the world and society is evolving towards a better future, nevertheless the reality is that this is far from the truth. How can we live like everything is all right, while seeing how obviously and directly people with a lot of power are discriminating against people based on their ethnicity?

 

Since the major displacement of (mainly) white Europeans in the past few months, I’ve noticed the difference in the way governments and the media portray white refugees as in need of help and deserving of aid. They are seen as simply victims of war and disaster – which they are, and should receive as much help as possible - but this is the definition of all refugees, so why is the response so different this time? More and more, white refugees are being granted privileges that previously were denied to others. In fact, there is an influx of recourses, help and financial aid from influential countries. The same resources that they denied having before. Watching the news, reporters covertly emphasise how white people are in danger and that is why we should care, they are playing on a narrative of “this could be us”. But then this begs the question, who is “us?” And am I even included? 

 

I can’t describe how this has left me feeling. I don’t want to give the impression that I believe people helping other people is cruel, quite the contrary. I’m thankful that people in need are being helped, this is what we need more of. But what makes me question the values of our society is how willing people have been to help only a specific group of people. I’m not saying that no one cared before, but the given privilege this time compared to all the other times before is an unmistakable difference. I don’t know why there should be more than one opinion when it comes to human rights. I don’t know why it is okay to measure humans against each other. I don’t know why we say everything is fine when clearly, it’s not. This, all of this, brings me back to the questions of where I belong and who I am.

Find more from Gobiga on Instagram @Gobi_22