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Priyo Australia
It seems that right now, more than ever, being oneself is simply not enough. In order to retain your edge in modern day society, you need a snazzy group label that somehow defines YOU. It’s acceptable to be somewhat of a chameleon of course – that’s human nature –but at the end of the day, it morphs into the age-old struggle between personal and group identities. The term “Australian” and its various prefixes embody this struggle. The relatively recent debate over what it means to be (un)Australian highlighted one fact clearly; While there may be certain linguistic and cultural attributes that seem to characterise this nation, founded on 18th century immigrants – let’s conveniently forget the indigenous population, it seems to be the going thing - its inhabitants will never be homogenous enough to constitute a list of common traits and values. With several labels it is difficult to define even oneself. I could be tagged as a female-Muslim-Gen Y-Uni student-teenage-carnivore-arachnaphobe-cinephile-1st generation Bangladeshi-Australian, and that only skims the surface. So if one person cannot be summarised by many labels, how can millions of people be summarised by a single label and a few prescribed attributes? One could step in now and explain that a label such as “Australian” doesn’t undermine but rather unifies distinct, equally valuable groups, which is a premise for multiculturalism…but that debate could fill a few dozen theses. Growing up with the aforementioned identities can be quite a task, especially taking on the dual national persona. In the last 5-10 years there’s been a surge of media that reflects the issues facing young people from South Asian immigrant families. (Anyone for the abolition of the term “curry” and the even more annoying usage of it by non-“curries”, raise your hands.) It has been highly relevant, as the clash of values from our parents’ homeland and the mishmash of values that is promoted in Western countries, is the source of much parental and teenage grief alike. For a young person, seemingly under the scrutiny of the wider Bangladeshi community, it can feel sometimes – if one were to over-analyse, as can happen when one writes on the topic – that we’re being asked to be superheroes. Smart, dependable citizens with mildly interesting ethnic backgrounds by day…and voila! Obedient desi kids committed to making names for ourselves and raising wholesome desi families by night. Nothing against either of those lifestyles of course. It can just get a little tricky balancing both to meet the standards the generation above seems to have set out for us. Trying to maintain such a split image of sorts, is an interesting and daunting challenge. On a less cynical note, the life that our parents sought out for us is a fairly coveted one. I don’t necessarily feel grateful, as I’ve been told I should, to the adopted country that allows me to express myself “freely” (read: nothing is free these days), without fear of mob riots, because these concepts should be rights, not privileges. Thus rather than appreciation I feel sadness and frustration that there are still societies that lack those opportunities. However in that regard, I do feel lucky for being born where and when I was, and to have parents who were in a position to settle in a comfortable place. Bangladeshi culture has always had some sort of presence in my life, and I would never give it up over a few complaints about meshing it with my other interests. Coming from a fresh immigrant background has enriched my life experience in ways I know I’d envy if my family had been here for seven or eight generations. I like to think it allows me to identify with anyone who’s ever been a little bit different, on the outside, or not quite sure of where they stand. And on the other hand – or for simplicity’s sake, let it be the same hand of this metaphorical person – living in Melbourne has yielded no regrets for me either because the atmosphere, people and city are exciting enough to keep me wanting to explore more. I could claim to be speaking on behalf of all young Bangladeshi-Australians, but I might receive a few death stares at the next dawat or cultural function. The only solid take-home message I can offer, is that I feel it’s important we examine ourselves more closely as a community as well as our place in Australia. Better yet, figure out where we stand as individuals, as that might help us assess whatever groups we think we’re in. Not the other way around. Rasha Rahman, Melbourne _ |
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