Stop smiling at me. I understand your language. I understand
your accent. I don’t care that you don’t understand mine, I am angry at my
stupid tongue for moulding to the way you roll your R’s, and my throat for
swaying along to your cadences. I am appalled at how YOU trip over words like 'colonisation' and 'decolonisation' when those words are starting to live on the tip of my teeth, three months in Canada and white academia.
I don’t need you to make me feel heard. Stop this unbreaking
eye contact and stop that fucking smile. Yes I come from a faraway land and
everything is so new for me. You with your three kids and SUV and supportive
husband know that there are cows on Delhi streets, and I feel no need to tell
you more. LGBT rights are sooo important and homonormativity is sooo important and gay white men fucking it all up for you, sooo not my problem. Live in your bubble, I don't want to be the 'global South' voice beckoning from beyond anymore. I don’t want to hear your dawning realisation and self flagellation
over being white and realising there’s more to question in life, you can’t get
away with saying intersectionality and decolonising.
I wish I didn't have to feel bad for you sometimes. I wish I didn't feel the need to help.
I wish I didn't have to feel bad for you sometimes. I wish I didn't feel the need to help.
I no longer want to talk about my family and Delhi roads and
my spicy food to you. I have a crust now. Three months in Toronto and I don’t wear
my migration like an open bruise anymore.
(Except when I make "snarky detached" comments about pronouncing my name, only to have your tongue forget in the next ten minutes.)
*
"It might be a good idea to mention why you chose to come to York knowing there would be financial hardships."
Cannot deal with this right now.
*
You know how I 'deal'? I mock you. relentlessly. I mock you with people who understand me, who are 'brown' to you and to me. I put on a 'white affect' and like, taaaalk like... this? I exorcise my frustration and my bile by screwing up my face and making my voice sound like yours, all your ignorant privileged bullshit. And I hear my anger translated into laughter, over beer and wine and steak and pizza, from people who have endured so much more.
This is how I win.
*
"It might be a good idea to mention why you chose to come to York knowing there would be financial hardships."
Cannot deal with this right now.
*
You know how I 'deal'? I mock you. relentlessly. I mock you with people who understand me, who are 'brown' to you and to me. I put on a 'white affect' and like, taaaalk like... this? I exorcise my frustration and my bile by screwing up my face and making my voice sound like yours, all your ignorant privileged bullshit. And I hear my anger translated into laughter, over beer and wine and steak and pizza, from people who have endured so much more.
This is how I win.
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