Russian/Polish/Scottish | Indian
I identify as mixed-race; half Indian and half White. I’m also from a mixed religious background; half Hindu and half Jewish. I also identify as bisexual and queer.
My Mom was born in Ahmedabad, a city in India, and she moved to the United States when she was a little kid. My Dad’s family is a mix of Russian, Polish, and Scottish. They met during their medical school residency programs at Johns Hopkins University. My Dad was studying emergency medicine and my Mom was studying psychiatry. Six months after they met, my Mom moved to London to study abroad. Even though they had been dating for a very short time, they stayed together and my Dad visited her two or three times in London. When she came back to the US, they moved in together.
When I was younger, my parents made a point to bring us to both synagogues and temples. We ate matzoh and celebrated Passover with my Dad’s parents and we ate kaju katli and celebrated Diwali with my Mom’s Mom. We ate a lot of Indian food at my Grandma’s house and my Dad actually tried to learn several of my Grandma (his Mother-in-law)’s recipes. I visited India once when I was a baby and once when I was ten, and I really want to go back. I went with my parents, sister, and Grandmother. I don’t remember much of the trip but I remember that I danced in one of my cousin’s weddings and I got to wear a full sari and mehndi.
As I’ve gotten older, though, it has become harder for my family to keep up our traditions. My parents live in a predominantly White suburb of Baltimore County, where there aren’t many Indian or Jewish people, let alone mixed people. My sister and I are both out of the house now, but we still try to light the Hanukkah candles all together for one night each year. This year, it was over Zoom.
I’ve been struggling a lot with talking to my family members about my queer identity. I’ve known I’m bisexual for a long time, but I only came out to most of my family a year ago when I started dating my girlfriend. There were very few openly queer people in the suburb where I grew up and I think it’s just been an adjustment for my family. I shaved my head last summer, which was a really wonderful moment for me, but I worry that it’s made them think of me as really different. They’re making a real effort to learn though, which means a lot to me.
I’ve never hidden part of my identity, but I’ve learned to be more discerning about the spaces I talk about my identity in. When I was younger and all throughout college, people would frequently ask me ‘what are you?’ or, worse, try to guess like it was a fun party game. For some reason, it happened all the time in Ubers. I had so many adult male Uber drivers who would spend the entire car ride interrogating me about my background while I sat there uncomfortably, counting down the minutes until I was dropped off. I also had a couple of male middle school teachers who were weirdly curious about my skin color. People have asked all sorts of weird questions, like one man I met on a plane telling me I must have a beautiful Mother, and asking if my Dad met my Mom ‘in the war’. I’ve talked to other mixed people and read about it and there’s definitely a fetishization of mixed people, because men see us as exotic. It’s upsetting to think about, because I entertained these conversations about my ‘exotic’ background when I was a teenager and was still trying to understand beauty and gender and race. I’ve since realized how invalidating these conversations are, and so I no longer choose to engage with these people.
I’m a writer, and I look up to so many queer and people of colour authors, like Carmen Maria Machado, Arundhati Roy, Ocean Vuong, and Sara Ahmed.
There needs to be more people of color in all forms of leadership. At my university, we’ve been having talks on racial inequality led by White men who start off the talk by apologizing for racism. No matter how well-intentioned they are, White people cannot understand the specific struggles and experiences of people of color. Having Black, Asian, Native American, Hispanic, mixed-race, and all other minority groups in positions of power is one of the first steps towards enacting change.
I have a really dynamic relationship with being mixed-race. I didn’t really think about it much as a child, other than knowing that it somehow made me different from other kids at my school. I went to a Jewish sleepaway camp when I was ten, and I remember one girl asked me why I was there if I was just a fake Jew. I felt left out of Indian spaces as well. Even though I had Indian friends, I felt like an outsider at their houses and I was always asking questions about the food we were eating. Being biracial and bisexual, I’ve really struggled with this feeling of not being enough for any space that I’m a part of, whether it be Indian, Jewish, straight, or gay.
Finding other queer people of colour friends and queer mixed friends has been a lifesaver. I’ve found community in them and we’ve embraced each other for who we are. I’ve come to see my identity, not as an aberration from the norm, but as something beautiful that gives me a unique perspective on the world. My background has also made me really open to others and curious to hear their stories. My Grandmother (my Mom’s Mother) taught me how to make chai when I was little, and I’ve been making that for my new friends in London.
There’s growing representation for mixed people in the media, but it’s still sparse. A couple of years ago, when I was having an identity crisis, I actually started keeping a list of half Indian/half White celebrities. I found Norah Jones, Naomi Scott, Hannah Simone, and Charli XCX. It may sound dumb, but it really does help to see people like me on screens or in leadership positions.
I cried on Valentine’s day! My girlfriend and I are long distance and I really miss her.
I’ve been really fortunate that I haven’t suffered significant economic or health insecurity during the pandemic. But it definitely took a toll on my mental health, especially at the beginning when we were in lockdown and I would spend all my time watching the news.
One positive thing that came out of the pandemic, though, was realizing that I want to go into a public health career. I applied to public health master’s programs during my senior year of college when I was in quarantine. I was accepted into a program at the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine and here I am!