English | Bangladeshi

My Dad is English, and my Mum is from Bangladesh. They met in a pub in Harrow. My Mum’s first thought was that even though he was very handsome, he would have to change his shoes if he wanted to continue seeing her!

My parents often talked about the similarities in their families, both being one of six and both being raised Catholic. It seems to be one of the things that drew them together. However, my Mum found it quite hard when joining his family, she often felt rejected because of the colour of her skin. She also found her ways of showing affection didn’t match theirs, her culture being big on gift giving and open displays of emotion, whereas his culture wasn’t.

On the other hand, I don’t think my Father ever really found it difficult integrating with my Mum’s family. He often talks about how he tried to find the similarities between the families. In the closeness and that my Mother’s family are very westernised, and the French part of their heritage makes them much more similar.

For much of my life I was closer to the English part of myself. I knew there was another part of me, but I grew up on the continent, so I always introduced myself as English. When I came back to England the answer wasn’t as simple. I had to face what it meant being mixed-race. I had never viewed my Mum’s family as being different before. That was when I started noticing the differences and when I started getting more attached to the food and cooking from my Mum’s family. It’s made me feel closer to that half of me even though I’m still mixed.

I don’t think there are any traditions that I follow from either of my backgrounds. Maybe following the Christian festivals like Easter and Christmas. I am really trying to revive a tradition of making kul-kuls every Christmas with my Mum’s family. Celebrating new year’s is very important to my family for some reason. I’ve never viewed these traditions as specific to me or my family.

I’ve always struggled with the treatment I get and got from one side of my family. I’m often treated differently to my cousins, and I’ve never understood why. It could be because of race but it could be a number of other reasons. I’ve never understood why I’ve been an outsider to them, but I’ve always felt it was there. It certainly never helped with the feeling of never quite fitting in and never quite belonging. I’ve often felt like there were two sides to me. I’ve often wondered if this comes from being a child of the colonised and the colonisers. My Dad’s family were in the British Raj in India, running political jails in one case. My Mum’s family lived in territories owned by the British during colonial times. But through all of this confusion, there is also a great joy in being able to experience two cultures. I think it has helped me to be very open minded and welcoming of diversity.

I never really knew that I was mixed growing up, I never really knew what I was. The only thing I knew was that I was different. I always felt out of sorts, but I always assumed that’s because I moved around, and I was the perennial ‘new girl’ wherever I happened to be. That never quite explained why some people disliked me on sight. I became more aware when we moved back to the UK but never really understood it until the BLM movement happened during covid. That helped me piece together why I have always felt a bit different.

Growing up, I had events like the instant dislike mentioned above. But more than that it was never finding anyone like me. I could make friends with people, but no one was ever quite the same as me. I always felt isolated, like this weird mixed thing. Then living in the UK as someone who didn’t grow up here definitely exacerbated it.

I always struggled with my identity, never really knowing what it was or the shape it would take. I think that’s why I attached myself to personality traits, like being clever. It’s something tangible I could hold onto and understand. So, I find it hard when people see more to me than that. This is a journey I am still on towards understanding myself as more than just traits and labels.

Throughout my life I have been asked ‘where do you come from’, and my answer of England/Britain/London/Watford doesn’t seem to satisfy the asker. So I get the follow up questions of ‘where do you originate from’ or ‘where does your family come from’. Even though I’m born in Watford, England, that’s not the answer people are looking for. You can tell when this line of questioning is just being curious or is looking for the reason you don’t fit with the description. In the latter case, my preferred course of action is to throw it back at them, ‘where do you think I’m from then’. I’ve learnt I’m ethnically ambiguous. I’ve also been called exotic. Mixed-race children are always the most beautiful. Ethnically ambiguous could be from nearly anywhere. A gypsy, derogatory Muslim as an insult by classmates. Always told I have a very interesting background, more interesting than mine. That one annoys me because you wouldn’t think it was interesting if it was you. It only looks interesting on the outside.

Everything I think circles around the theme of finding yourself and being ok with who you are. Who you are is so much more than race, it’s about everything that makes you, you. Really, it’s about knowing you have to look and question for yourself, you won’t find it written on a piece of paper.

I didn’t have a role model until December 2021 when I got into Formula 1 and discovered Lewis Hamilton. I always wish I had known about him when I was younger. He is a mixed-race king who uses his voice for good, to make a difference. Also, he is a fashion icon.

I don’t really admire any culture. I think they are all interesting and fascinating in their own way. There’s no one culture that’s better than another.

If I had to put an aspect of my culture into a time box I would choose food, especially the curries, the sacredness of rice, kul-kuls, scrambled eggs (my family's recipe), Khao Suey….. Because it’s what the culture is to me. Other than that, I don’t really know. I find it hard to identify my culture and where it crosses over between my parents’ cultures. I don’t really know what I would define as mine.

I don’t feel mixed-race people are represented in my organisation. I don’t even think my colleagues or senior staff recognise I am mixed. I often pass as White, so no one knows that I have this hidden side to me unless I say. People don’t ask or engage with the part of my culture that isn’t White when they know about it, and I often notice people talk about race around me differently when they know I am mixed.