‘What Shade of Brown Are You?’ and Other Questions I Wish People Would Just Ask!
I’ve got a weird name, haven’t I? Don’t worry, it’s okay to think it – it’s quite funny. But that’s because I’m a rare type of Asian known as Parsi. I love my unusual heritage. It makes me feel special. I also like it that people want to know what it is, even if it means taking ten minutes of careful explanation every single time.
The second-generation immigrants of the Parsi community in any western country have all been trained by their parents to keep the story concise. We don’t head straight for Parsi but instead start with ‘Persian’ or, my personal favourite and most accurate, ‘Ancient Persian’. Throw in the old religion known as Zoroastrianism and people think it’s fascinating. This all makes me sound incredibly rare and exotic, like a prized orchid at the Chelsea Flower Show. And if I’m honest, I quite like the attention…
I don’t, however, very much enjoy how people broach the subject first hand.
In the past few months, owing to the immense popularity of my other half, I have met a lot of new people, which means I have had to have this conversation over and over and OVER again. Sooner or later, after a bit of small talk, new acquaintances get curious and decide to bring up the topic of my particular brand of Asian.
The conversation usually goes something like this:
‘So, where are you from?’
‘South London.’
‘Hahahaha, good one… No, where are you ACTUALLY from?’
Where are you ACTUALLY from?
Is that seriously the phrase you’re going to use to ask me why I am brown? Because that’s what you really mean, isn’t it? And if that’s what you mean, why not just say it?!
(Image via)
I decide, in this case, to tease a little more.
‘Well, if you must know, I’m from Croydon.’
‘Ahhh, come on, you know what I mean… Where are your parents from?’
Sigh.
And so it starts – the explanation that my parents were born in Pakistan but we’re not Pakistani. My grandparents were born in India but we’re not Indian.
‘We’re originally Ancient Persian. Think King Cyrus the Great and Xerxes and that lot.’
‘Ohhhhhhhhh…. So you’re Iranian? Because, erm, Persia is now Iran, right? So you’re Iranian’, they say with finality.
Oh, really?! I must be mistaken, then. Thanks for giving me the geography lesson, wise guy!
This is the worst-case scenario. People who know me know that when someone goes down the route of trying to tell me MY OWN HERITAGE, I will get quite irritated and they are very unlikely to find themselves speaking to me again. Even though they don’t often mean to be a dick, it just happens.
As you can imagine, I’m pretty damned sick of this rigmarole. Why can’t people just say what they mean? I won’t be offended! Just choose your words better. In an ideal world, I’d want people to be open and honest.
Perhaps genuinely asking, ‘So I can’t really tell… What shade of brown are you?’ Or, ‘You’ve got a really weird name. How did you end up with that?’
One of the best things anyone said to me was, ‘Shiraz, I’ve got to be honest – when we saw your name, we laughed. A lot’. He was the headmaster at a school I was about to work in. And to my surprise, I appreciated that he had been so honest about it and we had a good laugh at my expense. A few years later at a different job, sitting in a parent’s meeting with one of my favourites, we were discussing names and when it came to mine, she said: ‘Yes, your name is very strange. I didn’t want to say anything but it’s quite odd’. This made me love her even more.
So I really respect people who ask me about my heritage in a healthy, honest way. By all means, use the word ‘origin’, and when we discuss my name, you can laugh, it’s alright! I’ll laugh with you.
But ask me ‘where I’m from’ and I will be facetious until you ask me the question you really want to ask!
In this glorious melting pot of a world, do any of you have this problem as well? Drop me a line and tell me your experiences!
If you enjoyed this article, why not check out: ‘“So, where are you from?”‘
Tags: heritage Joy Life rant rudeness society
Categories: Cringe Factor Fire me up baby! Wise up!
3 Comments
I have exactly the same problem.
Which makes sense, because I’m your sister 🙂
Great article! xxx
Out of interest, is there an aspect of your sense of identity that you cling to above any other? Croydon, perhaps? Or Ancient Persian? The reason I ask is that I find the whole question of one’s constructed identity so interesting. I was born in Liverpool but I left when I was still a child, was educated in Africa and continental Europe, then lived forty years in South London, and am now in North Kent, but if anyone asks me where I’m from, I’ll always say Liverpool. I have no idea why, I know nothing about the place, I haven’t a clue about what it means to be Scouse, and I was in London for so much longer than I was in Liverpool, but I would NEVER refer to myself as a Londoner. Added to which, by a bit of sharp practice and fudging the numbers, I can claim a 50% Irish heritage, which believe me, I cling to like a drowning man to a raft. I’ve been in Ireland for an entire fortnight in my fifty five years, but still.
Obviously in your case the conversation will have undertones which I would never experience, but I know that in my case it’s a lot to do with trying hard NOT to blend in. Being part of the herd is my idea of Hell, so using Heritage, even if it’s a teeny bit phony, to stand apart is all to the good.
Hi, Tim! That’s a very good question.
I think it depends on the situation I’m in. As I spent 3 years studying in Northern Ireland, I learnt that ‘British’ wasn’t something that Irish Catholics necessarily liked to hear, so I would skim over that point and say that I considered myself a ‘Londoner’ instead, which was something that they would happily accept.
Back over here, I probably use Asian quite a lot but if people want to go through the rigmarole above and dig deeper, I’d say I was Ancient Persian, yes. Anyone not from Croydon will have a shadow pass over their face when I reveal I was brought up there, so then I get to tease them with my ‘well ‘ard, don’t be messin” routine.
All in all, it’s quite entertaining being able to switch from Londoner to Asian to Ancient Persian to Croydonian, so I guess I’m all four rolled in together. But two things are certain – I am NOT Pakistani, and I am NOT Iranian.