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Preeti on the Web |
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Providing Food for Thought |
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Not Being Default |
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The display at the Bryan Center shows a list of Christmas gifts that a needy family requested. One of the desired gifts for the young girl in the family is, “Baby Doll (ethnic).” “Ethnic” obviously means “not white.” |
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Not fitting the mold has its frustrations and its specialness |
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February 1, 2006 |
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To Contact Preeti: preetiontheweb at yahoo dot com |
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Please note that all text on this webpage is copyrighted ©. Please do not quote or paraphrase without using proper citations. |
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Note: This op-ed column appeared in The Chronicle Feb. 1, 2006. What do vegetarian food, Lady Foot Locker and ethnic dolls have in common? They’re not default. If you’re a vegetarian on a transatlantic flight, the default meal isn’t going to work for you. You have to request a special meatless meal in advance.
The Foot Locker chain of athletic shoe stores primarily sells men’s footwear. For a wide selection of women’s shoes, a female must visit the offshoot Lady Foot Locker.
Being white is default. The Bryan Center currently has an outdated display for a charity in which people adopt a needy family for Christmas and buy it gifts. The display shows a list of gifts that a needy family requested. One of the desired gifts for the young girl in the family is, “Baby Doll (ethnic).” “Ethnic” obviously means “not white.”
If a girl doesn’t want a default white doll, she’s got to specially request an ethnic one—just like the vegetarian requesting the meatless meal.
Having a set of defaults is of course not unique to American culture. In India, for example, people use the term “non-vegetarian” to refer to meals with meat. Last December while on a domestic flight in India, the flight attendant asked me whether I wanted a “veg or non-veg” lunch. Vegetarian is the default. Meals with meat are specially called “non-vegetarian.”
I mention this distinction between nameless defaults and specially termed non-defaults to bring attention to what it’s like to live as a non-default person relative to the larger society. As a vegetarian woman of South Asian heritage living in the United States, I am not default in many aspects of my identity and lifestyle.
Sometimes, living in this non-default state can be mentally exhausting. I constantly have to explain the most basic things about myself. I regularly get asked about the pronunciation and meaning of my name, what country I was born in, where my parents are from, when they came here, whether my family celebrates Christmas and why I don’t eat meat.
I get asked many questions about India: why do women wear a dot on their foreheads? Why do cows roam the streets? What’s the poverty like? How do arranged marriages work? How are women treated? What do Hindus believe?
Sometimes I feel I ought to carry around a set of pamphlets entitled “India: Frequently Asked Questions.”
Americans living a relatively more default life very rarely have to explain themselves by answering comparable questions such as: What nationality are you? Why do you eat meat? Why do you hang big socks on your fireplace mantles each December? Why do women paint their toenails? Why do Americans eat dinner so early? Why do Americans divorce so much?
Despite becoming exhausted at always having to explain myself, I’m still glad Americans ask questions. Most who ask me questions are sincerely curious about other cultures, and if I’ve helped them learn more, then that can only be a good thing.
Additionally, sometimes I feel unique and special by not being default. I’m sure many left-handed people feel unique and special in a rather similar way. There’s something kinda neat about being different.
Being non-default has also forced me to be attuned to ways in which other people aren’t default. For example, when I see fliers for speed dating posted on campus bulletin boards, I wonder how gay students feel knowing that it goes without saying that these events are for heterosexuals.
I wonder how politically conservative students feel on a campus where the majority of professors and students—particularly in the humanities and social sciences—aren’t just liberal, but very liberal.
Virtually all of us have experienced some sort of tension between wanting to fit in and wanting to remain a distinct individual. How much of our identity are we willing to sacrifice in order to conform, assimilate and/or gain a sense of belonging? What if there are aspects of our identity, such as race, religion and sexual orientation, that we can’t readily change?
These questions are difficult enough to grapple with psychologically at the individual level. They become even more challenging when they are politicized at the macro level.
Presently, I believe these issues of identity can’t be resolved; they can only be managed. Reminders of which categories of people aren’t default—whether vegetarian food, Lady Foot Locker or ethnic dolls—are simply part of the human condition. |
