The price of having a voice and what happened when I dared to speak my truth
I am brown. I am an immigrant. I am an immigrant from a non-eurocentric culture. I am a woman. And I have dared to speak. What I didn’t know was the price I was going to pay for having a voice.
OSTRACIZATION
Truth has the power to catalyze transformation.
The intricacies of the societies we’ve constructed are founded on optics and image, usually not meant to bear the weight of truth. When any norm appears to be challenged, with an attempt to undo these deeply tangled knots, the laws of motion kick in. Inertia is no longer an option when change is apparent.
When we think of ostracization, perhaps, Britannica’s definition is what comes to mind. It states that ostracism was a “political practice in ancient Athens whereby a prominent citizen who threatened the stability of state could be banished without bringing a charge against him.”
Many of these principles still hold but manifest differently due to the tools we wield.
It usually begins with minimization. ‘If it didn’t happen to me, then it didn’t happen you.’ Passive-aggressive tactics, that are hard to call out and even understand, become a reality. When social (media) distancing doesn’t work, actual distancing, usually through ghosting, appears. From losing grants to job opportunities, peers and mentors to friends, ostracization is as real as sand stuck between sticky toes. Its present, uncomfortable and takes time to get used to (if you can’t get it off).
RESPONSIBILIZATION
Being brown, a woman and an immigrant allows me a unique peek into the world. The ecosystem on the outside changes the being inside. As you meander through life, it makes you acutely sensitive to the inherent unfairness you are subjected to purely because of the skin you are in and the sex you were genetically assigned.
These very experiences shape your truth.
When you speak your truth, there will be a collective that will be grateful that you became their voice. Your work, voice and truth will transcend any impediments, reaching its destination.
Your voice first rose to cut the chilling silence.
Desired or not, your actions will be marked. They will demand responsibility, more so because you aren’t the norm.
EXHAUSTION OF EMOTIONAL LABOUR
Cold. Hot.
Imagine you have and can never experience those feelings and any associated memories. Now, imagine the labour involved to help understand what happens when you place a scalding plate into another’s hands. Or plunge them into the icy waters.
Brown. Immigrant. Woman. Gay. Indigenous. Trans.
The words above and many other labels are just like cold and hot. Unless you have walked in those shoes, it is very hard to understand how torn its soles are. You’ll constantly question the injustice in being made emotionally responsible to educate. Isn’t it hard enough that you’re walking this path?
And without realizing it, you will police your language and behaviour while explaining your truth. You will shoulder the weight to ‘teach’ what microaggressions are. And this, not just to people who don’t live your reality but to those who haven’t been woke to their reality.
BUSHWHACKING AND LAYING MILESTONES
There is a price for having a voice. The path is as easy as walking uphill a sand dune. The only way to get through the myriad of intertwined complexities is to understand why your truth matters. On the journey, if your truth echoes, you will find support from unexpected quarters which will quench your thirst and propel you further.
I am brown. I am an immigrant. I am an immigrant from a non-eurocentric culture. I am a woman.
And I have dared to speak. There wasn’t anyone to lay the above out for me. Here’s hoping this piece is a milestone for those who wish to voice their truth.
Prajwala Dixit is an Indian-canadian engineer, journalist and writer in St. John’s, NL who writes a biweekly regional column for the Saltwire Network. When she isn’t engineering ways to save the world, she can be found running behind her toddler, writing and volunteering. Follow her and reach her at @Dixitprajwala