The World According To Nina...
I am very happy today, I got a job at a college teaching some classes. I’m very excited to be back teaching at the college level. I’m excited to have debates and discussions with my kids. The woman who interviewed me said that students hate it when instructors bring up political issues in English class.
I was honest and told her that I do that, I have monitored debates on Abortion and other topics that are very sensitive. I guess she didn’t mind my approach. I told her that I tell kids that college is the place to discuss these issues intellectually as opposed to the Thanksgiving table. If you can’t discuss politics in college, where can you discuss it?
Why are we so afraid to talk? I’m not saying just talk about democratic or republican beliefs, but just talk about anything that matters to us. I remember this student of mine said we should not have a debate on gay marriage because it might hurt someone’s feelings.
Hurt someone’s feelings? It hurts them much more when we ignore important issues and ignore entire groups of people. It hurts that people’s identities are not recognized and considered legitimate. That hurts.
It hurts me that when I sit in a room full of white people I wonder if they think I’m exotic if they see me as different. I just went on vacation to Marquette, Michigan last week. I probably saw like three people of color in the entire city. It is a beautiful city, but I felt like an outsider simply because I’m used to the diversity in the area where I live.
I would feel like an outsider in India, because there are mostly only Indian people in India, and I’m not really Indian either. I like to mix it up. That is the thing I like about America, the diversity. That’s what I liked about New York. You literally could not walk through Central Park without hearing a variety of different languages being spoken.
I enjoy living like this. No one fits in and everyone fits in, all at the same time. I’m just like everyone else, totally unique. I’m not sure what my ethnic identity really is, I’m not sure I have just one that you can fit into a box.
I guess if I were pressed to use a label the only one that would really fit is Indian American. There is a part of me that feels totally American. I am a classic Generation X woman who remembers being raised by a television, my idols were Madonna and Prince. I grew up thinking I wanted to look like a supermodel and be as amazing as Oprah.
But I am also an Indian princess in my own personal Bollywood movie waiting for my Indian prince to arrive on a white horse. I randomly break out into song, just like in Indian movies. I talk loud and laugh loud like a stereotypical Punjabi woman.
Besides all these pop-culture references, I grew up my first 12 years in a city that was predominantly white. I knew I was different, but I didn’t know. Then I moved to a city where I was one of many, many Indians and other Asians and people of all heritages. Again, I knew I was different and I didn’t know.
But at the age I am now, it has occurred to me that I am trying to be different. Trying really hard. But the irony is, it is when I stopped trying and just let myself be, that I realized I’m naturally me. I’m kinda different and kinda just like everyone else. Sometimes being the same as everyone else lacks creativity, sometimes you just realize we are all one. I don’t want to be another Jane Doe, Joe Schmoe, but I also know I am Jane Doe. But I want to be me. I want to inspire people simply by sharing my truth, which is maybe your truth and not your truth, all at the same time.
The truth is complex if it even exists. I think it does, but there are those who have a good argument for the fact there is no such thing as truth. It doesn’t matter. Just be. Be OK with who you are or change. And then change again.
That’s what I do, what I have done.
If there is one thing I want to teach in my writing classes is that you must know the rules of writing, of life. Then you must learn to break them artistically and with creativity, inspiration, and insight. I once wrote a paper in college that was like one of my blogs, all stream of consciousness. It was an experiment. I wanted to see what would happen if I didn’t follow academic rules for writing.
My professor took me aside and said that she wasn’t going to grade my paper because I was trying to do something different and she didn’t want to stop me and she didn’t know how to grade that. I was very inspired by that. I still am.
I met that professor before I graduated from college and she looked over my grades and told me she was proud of me for doing so well in English. I don’t know if I told her, I think I forgot to, that she helped me get to a place where I could follow the rules just well enough to understand how to break them.
I still think grammar is an oppressive tool used by the white man to oppress the masses. But I use appropriate grammar when I want to. I also don’t give a shit because I feel like I can use words like ‘gonna’ and ‘ain’t’ because they are real words in our spoken language, and all I ever want is to be real. A friend of mine told me to stop using such words in my writing if I want to get professionally published.
I disagree. I am not looking to publish a dissertation on the word ‘ain’t.’ I’m looking to use it to say my truth with all the words that I can think of, all the words and ideas I can muster to show you who and what I am.
I ain’t much, but I am that.
nina