good girls don't
Sep. 21st, 2008 09:21 pmEarlier, a perfect moment: skimming down Donnington Bridge after nightfall, with dark sky above and dark water below, humming abstractly to the Indigo Girls' Galileo, which doesn't stop being wonderful with the passage of time. I was given the album as a gift on my eighteenth birthday, which was also the day George W. Bush took office for the second time. I mention this merely because I spent intervals throughout the day having impassioned conversations with my father about Sarah Palin and her moose-eating credentials. (It's nice, sometimes, that nothing changes; that my life has rolled onwards and around, but I like dark nights and politics and Amy Ray, and my father is still a quietly ageing former hippie, a little more aged.)
Anyway. I am not eighteen. I am not twelve, four-and-a-half, or any other age that involves your relatives patting you on your head and remarking on how much you've grown and does she still not eat aloo gobi for breakfast like a good Indian girl, and we always knew she was going to turn out strange, etc., etc., and all the other things I have been subjected to today by my well-meaning relatives, here for the first time from India and making my life somewhat more difficult than it usually is. I say this with some, limited, affection; they try to be nice, they really do, and sometimes they really are, it's just, yes. Difficult. They have views. Indian families have Views. In a couple of weeks, they will be having a family reunion, in which a vast corpus of various relatives will appear, and my mother has been not-so-subtly persuading me to come home for it for quite a while now. This, of course, I have no objection to. It might be nice to be home for a couple of days, Mum will need lots of help I'm sure, and there are lots of my relatives (and two in particular) whom I'm very fond of and do want to see.
The problem is, well, my mother said, in a burst of enthusiasm, "Why don't you bring [
shimgray]?"
To which my immediate response was, did my mother just acknowledge I'm an adult human being who might want to introduce her partner to her family? Quite apart from whether I could in good conscience subject a fellow human being to my family, this is, I think, the sort of liberal modern Western thinking that ought to be encouraged. My parents, in other words, are not the problem. But when you add conservative aunts and uncles into the mixture, it gets difficult. I'm a good Indian girl, I've got to be good and chaste and pure. And the double standard is just horrific; one of my cousins is getting married this summer (they've "found him a girl", I was informed, simperingly), and another has just acquired a girlfriend (something I found out, in a truly horrific turn of events, from Facebook), but I.... well, I am a category error. I don't do That Sort of Thing. It's like an enormous blind spot they have about me; I'm not enough of a person. It makes me rather angry. Because I'm female, I don't have agency, is the continual subtext beneath all of this. "Time to get you married," they tell me, but note syntax; I can't do anything for myself.
And the worst part of it is, the day I do get married, if I do, I will become a person! Not my life experience, not my degree, not my life plans, not my being an adult and philosopher and lawyer and human being, but the fact of being married will transform me into an autonomous being in the eyes of my extended family. That really makes me angry; more than anything else, I think. It's eternally symptomatic of the wider problem, in that in the culture I belong to, I'm not worth particularly much; I'm a liability and a problem to be solved, rather than the wee princes who strut about being my male cousins, and the fact that I'm the only daughter of my side of the family makes it all that little bit worse. I'm nicely insulated from it by virtue of distance (both cultural and geographical; it's the fact of their being rather liberal people that made my parents emigrate in the first place, to some extent), but it comes out at times like this. Part of me wonders if it's something to do with the fact I've finished my degree - the last thing I ought to do before getting married.
My mother, I suspect, has a Machiavellian plan going on behind the scenes - I think she wants me to bring home my underdone pale white boyfriend (shock! horror! etc.!) in an attempt at a beautifully visual fuck-you in the direction of the worse of my relatives. (Who will cluck and tsk and say they always knew it would come to this, they always knew that girl was doomed to bring dishonour, and so on.) My mother on my side is a dangerous thing. And if there are people on my side, and besides in a few weeks all the relatives will have returned to whence they came and this whole period of angst will have come to a blissful end, I might suggest that it's not all that important, not in the longer scheme of things where I continue living here and baby-lawyering and, well, being me, but it does matter. It matters a whole lot, when you don't matter.
And as such, I shall spend the rest of the week steadfastly not answering my phone, I think. And I will go home for the family reunion and be sweetness and light, but it will continue to rankle that I spent this morning clearing my room of condoms and antidepressants, because. So there. I have no point to make here beyond the standard, classic, it's not fair, it's NOT FAIR, it wasn't fair when I was small and brown and lost, and it's not fair now.
Anyway. I am not eighteen. I am not twelve, four-and-a-half, or any other age that involves your relatives patting you on your head and remarking on how much you've grown and does she still not eat aloo gobi for breakfast like a good Indian girl, and we always knew she was going to turn out strange, etc., etc., and all the other things I have been subjected to today by my well-meaning relatives, here for the first time from India and making my life somewhat more difficult than it usually is. I say this with some, limited, affection; they try to be nice, they really do, and sometimes they really are, it's just, yes. Difficult. They have views. Indian families have Views. In a couple of weeks, they will be having a family reunion, in which a vast corpus of various relatives will appear, and my mother has been not-so-subtly persuading me to come home for it for quite a while now. This, of course, I have no objection to. It might be nice to be home for a couple of days, Mum will need lots of help I'm sure, and there are lots of my relatives (and two in particular) whom I'm very fond of and do want to see.
The problem is, well, my mother said, in a burst of enthusiasm, "Why don't you bring [
To which my immediate response was, did my mother just acknowledge I'm an adult human being who might want to introduce her partner to her family? Quite apart from whether I could in good conscience subject a fellow human being to my family, this is, I think, the sort of liberal modern Western thinking that ought to be encouraged. My parents, in other words, are not the problem. But when you add conservative aunts and uncles into the mixture, it gets difficult. I'm a good Indian girl, I've got to be good and chaste and pure. And the double standard is just horrific; one of my cousins is getting married this summer (they've "found him a girl", I was informed, simperingly), and another has just acquired a girlfriend (something I found out, in a truly horrific turn of events, from Facebook), but I.... well, I am a category error. I don't do That Sort of Thing. It's like an enormous blind spot they have about me; I'm not enough of a person. It makes me rather angry. Because I'm female, I don't have agency, is the continual subtext beneath all of this. "Time to get you married," they tell me, but note syntax; I can't do anything for myself.
And the worst part of it is, the day I do get married, if I do, I will become a person! Not my life experience, not my degree, not my life plans, not my being an adult and philosopher and lawyer and human being, but the fact of being married will transform me into an autonomous being in the eyes of my extended family. That really makes me angry; more than anything else, I think. It's eternally symptomatic of the wider problem, in that in the culture I belong to, I'm not worth particularly much; I'm a liability and a problem to be solved, rather than the wee princes who strut about being my male cousins, and the fact that I'm the only daughter of my side of the family makes it all that little bit worse. I'm nicely insulated from it by virtue of distance (both cultural and geographical; it's the fact of their being rather liberal people that made my parents emigrate in the first place, to some extent), but it comes out at times like this. Part of me wonders if it's something to do with the fact I've finished my degree - the last thing I ought to do before getting married.
My mother, I suspect, has a Machiavellian plan going on behind the scenes - I think she wants me to bring home my underdone pale white boyfriend (shock! horror! etc.!) in an attempt at a beautifully visual fuck-you in the direction of the worse of my relatives. (Who will cluck and tsk and say they always knew it would come to this, they always knew that girl was doomed to bring dishonour, and so on.) My mother on my side is a dangerous thing. And if there are people on my side, and besides in a few weeks all the relatives will have returned to whence they came and this whole period of angst will have come to a blissful end, I might suggest that it's not all that important, not in the longer scheme of things where I continue living here and baby-lawyering and, well, being me, but it does matter. It matters a whole lot, when you don't matter.
And as such, I shall spend the rest of the week steadfastly not answering my phone, I think. And I will go home for the family reunion and be sweetness and light, but it will continue to rankle that I spent this morning clearing my room of condoms and antidepressants, because. So there. I have no point to make here beyond the standard, classic, it's not fair, it's NOT FAIR, it wasn't fair when I was small and brown and lost, and it's not fair now.
no subject
on 2008-09-21 10:01 pm (UTC)You are right. It's not fair. It's not fair at all. And furthermore if you followed their rules, they'd be wasting a valuable family resource -- your brain, your determination, your power.
"And the worst part of it is, the day I do get married, if I do, I will become a person! "
Can I punch somebody for you?
no subject
on 2008-09-22 03:49 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-21 10:09 pm (UTC)Ugh. It sucks. But at least your mother's on your side.
no subject
on 2008-09-22 03:50 pm (UTC)Mum is on my side! This is unusual and sort of awesome. Thank you, dear.
no subject
on 2008-09-21 10:25 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-22 03:50 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-21 10:37 pm (UTC)At least my family is so mixed race they can't complain about me bringing *anyone* home :) I'm also glad that my particular group sees gender in a different way - being in your situation with those expectations sounds awful.
I am fond of my extended family, but there are things that I try not to talk to them about. I don't think a conversation about my lack of interest in business can end happily.
I do wonder how much of it is gendered and how much of it is just being Indian - it seems that there's a focus on things that will definitely earn money (engineering, business, science, technology) and doing Arts or Humanities at university is greeted with puzzlement.
Sorry, not very coherent at all!
no subject
on 2008-09-22 03:52 pm (UTC)Some of it, certainly, is Just Being Indian - that wonderful state of being. I guess we keep on being us, and Indian, and hope for the best.
no subject
on 2008-09-22 04:11 pm (UTC)I found a really sad article here (http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/theatre/features/why-british-asians-dont-get-the-arts-and-dont-want-to-either-812465.html) - in a way I'm not sure how it tallies with my parents, but maybe there's something there?
Yes, we'll just keep being us
no subject
on 2008-09-21 10:50 pm (UTC)I am extremely lucky in that both my and
Let me know if there's anything I can do? Totally not an angle to come and visit you and Harriet, promise!
no subject
on 2008-09-22 03:58 pm (UTC)I might ask you a bit about the whole issue sometime, if you don't mind? I'd like to hear a little about the other side of it, so to speak.
no subject
on 2008-09-22 04:16 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-22 12:37 am (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-22 03:58 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-22 12:56 am (UTC)I know somewhat what that feels like; my first marriage was the result of an offer of $2000 plus a side of beef each winter and I had no say at all in whether or not I wanted to marry that soon...or to him. Had I had time, I think you can figure out the answer would have been no.
For what it's worth, I've always considered you your own person and an incredibly good one at that.
no subject
on 2008-09-22 04:33 pm (UTC)I'm really sorry that happened to you, dear. You're a great inspiration.
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on 2008-09-22 05:44 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-22 01:30 am (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-22 04:34 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-22 06:34 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-22 06:41 am (UTC)I have been used as a pawn in family dramas, though, and it's horrible. I hope the pleasures of the reunion (I hope there are some!) outweight the bad.
no subject
on 2008-09-22 04:35 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-22 09:47 am (UTC)And then followed it up with comments that if he didn't I was going to be an Old Maid. (I've never heard that expression said out loud outside of my family and BBC Jane Austen). So they'd overlook him being Scottish and rude because he was my last chance
So I can understand where this coming from and how infuriating this is. But Shim is a really good person to have clutching your hand and making dry comments and generally making family more bearable.
no subject
on 2008-09-22 04:36 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-22 07:31 pm (UTC)Especially since he has been on tv, which outways all other character defects.
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on 2008-09-22 08:27 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-22 08:29 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-22 12:23 pm (UTC)Hope it goes okay however, anyway.
no subject
on 2008-09-22 04:37 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-22 03:22 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-22 04:38 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-22 03:32 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-22 04:41 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-22 04:36 pm (UTC)My family is also very much fond of denying agency to young unmarried women, who are clearly not real persons of any kind due to being young and unmarried, and are therefore commodities to be groomed carefully into being more marriageable. My parents are somewhat resignedly accepting of the fact that their daughter currently has a highly pasty white boyfriend, and is very likely to spend the next ten years in school of some kind, or scrambling to get tenure, and isn't going to be any sort of engineer. The rest of the family does not quite comprehend this, and likes to make fairly ham-fisted nudge-nudge-wink-wink 'so, are you starting to look for a nice boy, then?' comments, and complain that I'm not in software, because this means I Won't Make Money. (Ignoring the fact that, y'know, I'm absolutely no age to be marrying at.) I am very tired of the skeevy gender politics that go along with Indian families (and I do think this rather is a function of being Indian and female, grr).
Anyway. agh. Families are silly, and bludgeonable; you are neither. I hope you get through this with minimal misery!
no subject
on 2008-09-22 04:45 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-22 09:24 pm (UTC)Just wondering, clearing your room of antidepressants? Why? I can understand the condoms, I think, (and it isn't fair, but you know that) but what problem could anyone have with you taking antidepressants?
no subject
on 2008-09-22 11:08 pm (UTC)The antidepressants, because, well, I'm pretty sure my mother would freak. She wouldn't believe I needed them, she'd tell me I was being idiotic, she'd basically not believe me and then make my life difficult for months poss. years. My father, on the other hand, would believe me, say something awkward but kind, and then go away and worry himself into oblivion, so I'd rather he didn't know, either!
no subject
on 2008-09-22 09:29 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-22 11:11 pm (UTC)And yes, you're absolutely right, of course. How much more difficult this situation would be if I weren't living away from home doesn't bear thinking about. (I mean, I moved in here a month ago and life has pretty much been on an upward curve since then.)
(Srsly. Younger than you and married. I make faces in her general direction.)
no subject
on 2008-09-24 10:22 pm (UTC)