English | Seychellois/Irish
I am a mixed heritage woman with an invisible disability (ME). My Mum is half Seychellois, half Irish and grew up globally (my Grandad was in the army). My Dad is White; English born and raised. They met at university in Sunderland. My Grandparents moved to England when my Mum was 15 so she ended up doing her A Levels and going to university here. She was the first person in her family to go to university, and my Dad almost was (only bar his sister 2 years previously). None of my Grandparents stayed in education past 16 so the transition from them to me, who somehow has two degrees from Oxford and Cambridge, in two generations is kind of astounding.
There is a lot of dismissal of race (and to a lesser extent heritage) discussions within my family, facilitated by us being White assumed, especially my generation of ‘the Grandchildren’. I grew up with the implicit belief that I should keep my heritage as secret or at least on the low-down as possible, because of course, Whiteness was the pinnacle of success, beauty and acceptance in this country, so why would I give up the privilege of being assumed it? Despite spending my teenage years pretending to be White, I was always drawn to learning about other cultures because it felt validating to know there was a breadth of experiences and ways of life out there. So I ended up studying Geography, and then International Development, at university. Working through my anger, but undeniable connection to, colonialism through uni work allowed me to recognise and finally to celebrate my own mixed heritage. This was all against a backdrop of my Grandad’s health deteriorating, and I spent a lot of time trying to learn more about his experiences of colonialism, migration and racism but he was often too sick or disillusioned to tell anything other than his same go-to tales that I’d heard since childhood. Then, last January, he passed away. I was in the room when it happened and as the first family bereavement I’ve experienced, it hit me incredibly hard. As someone who had just reconnected with their Seychellois heritage, what did it mean that my Seychellois family member was gone? I’ve answered that question by committing even harder to representing my background and being loud and proud about it. My Grandad might not be with me physically any longer but then means I have to hold him in my spirit even harder.
My main connection to Seychellois culture growing up was through my Grandad’s incredible food, and I want to learn to cook all those dishes; mainly different curries and salads. He never let anyone be in the kitchen with him while he worked so it’s been hard to get an idea of recipes! It’s a lot of trial and error but our family in the Seychelles have been able to share some of their recipes too. Growing up, my main pride in my heritage was being able to handle my spice. Now of course it means way more to me, and cooking is a main hobby for me in general, so this is what I want to focus on connecting through more. I also want to start visiting Ireland regularly to connect with my Grandma’s heritage. On my Dad’s side, I have been born and raised in South East London which is where generations have lived on his paternal side so I feel very connected with this city, which I love deeply.
The last time I cried was last Wednesday. Something I think about a lot is how I have a lot of hidden identities; I’m mixed but I don’t always look it, I’m disabled but I don’t always look it. This is a real double edged sword. I get all the privileges of Whiteness and able-bodiedness, but I live with a constant sense of dissonance where people make incorrect assumptions about who I am. This creates a weird limbo I live in where I can feel like I’m never enough of one thing or another, not enough to be seen for who I am, to reflect the true internal life I’m living. I cried because I was having a difficult time with my disability (ME) and was frustrated by the world around me assuming I’m capable of constant activity and productivity.
I have hidden my heritage as a child and teenager in order to assimilate, I’ve hidden my disability to avoid stigma especially in work environments, and I’ve hidden my class background to be respected in my working environment. I work exclusively with the Boards of companies, and being a young woman is enough to contend with in terms of demanding respect, let alone to acknowledge that I’m from a different background from my clients. I’d say I’ve learned to be proud of my heritage and of living with a disability, but this is one which I still get stuck on.
I think I value different things from the people around me rather than having one person who I idolise overall. My Grandmothers are my role models for their fierce independence, my Grandad was my role model for his sense of adventure and his tenacity, my Mum and Aunt are my role models for their empathy, my Dad for his work ethic, my friends for their generosity with their love.
I’m a Leo through and through; determined, loyal, passionate. Multiple, unconnected friends have referred to me as a ‘moral compass’; I have a very strong sense of right and wrong and I hold the people I love to account on it, including myself. I am learning to combine this with a sense of compassion; life is rarely Black and White (and I should well know, lol) and I am teaching myself that sometimes it’s ok to live in the grey. The other thing people say about me is that I’m intelligent, this is something I am determined to put to good use in this world, not just for my own gain.
The only challenge I haven’t mentioned explicitly (though it is of course a major reason why I and my family have implicitly attempted to assimilate to Whiteness) is, of course, racism. Being White assumed and having spent the first 18 years of my life being very quiet about my background, puts you in rooms and conversations with White people who feel at liberty to say things they would never say if they knew they were not in an all-White space. It’s very odd in those situations, especially when you are that young, to decide how/ when/ whether to reveal that you are in fact not one of them.
To move swiftly on to the positives, there are so many. To have grown up in a family where I naturally know more about the world beyond where I grew up, because I have an insight into this totally other place, is such a privilege. I connected with Geography as a discipline because I had a different perspective while learning about colonialism, about migration, and about cultural studies. It made personal sense to me and it was such a joy to be able to explore. In my adult life, I find joy in making friends with people from other backgrounds, especially when their experiences are mixed in some way, either racially or by being third-culture. As cheesy as it might sound, sharing experiences, food, dance, music is everything to me.
Last September I was finally able to visit the Seychelles to bury my Grandad’s ashes, which was a heartbreaking and beautiful experience. My Grandparents did start visiting regularly in their old age, and my Aunt would go with them, since then we have remained close to our family there. They organised the entire funeral and burial and couldn’t be more warm and loving. It was so special to spend time with them and we felt immediately like family, no race barriers at all. Because the Seychelles is a Creole country, everyone is mixed one way or another and so looking White is not really a barrier to being considered Seychellois. It’s been so wonderful and healing to build relationships with family there after losing my Grandad, and has made me feel more Seychellois than ever. Since that trip, my family have been very encouraging of me and my Mum legally using a double barrel with their family name (my Mum’s maiden name), Doway, and so this is something I’m looking into. I might be biased but I couldn’t really ask for a better place to have family in, have you seen the beaches?
So, as mentioned I work in governance which is an extremely male, pale and stale space. My last company lacked racial diversity and I was often the least White person in the room; NEVER a good sign. I was on the D&I committee and vocal about my background, and then when HR released a D&I survey, I realised they’d given me my own box (White and Seychellois Creole)! Well meaning I think but quite hilarious. At least it was the first time in my life I didn’t have to check ‘mixed - other’. Last summer, I moved to work at a board level recruitment firm who aims to improve the diversity and transparency of board hiring. No company is without its issues, but working for a company whose mission is so entwined with D&I gives me a great sense of purpose. I’m less vocal about my own identity, because I’m more focused on that of our candidates, but I am more at peace with my own heritage than ever.