So, that awkward “no, but where are you really from?” question. It’s been talked about to death, and I suppose I’m only adding to that. Deal.
I’m never sure how to answer this question. “Where are you from?” I suppose it depends on my mood. If I’m feeling particularly snarky, I’ll engage and ask, “where are you from?” but most of the time I just satisfy their nosiness and tell them where I was born. If I’m feeling passive aggressive, I’ll say “the Caribbean” but that usually leads to even more prodding because somehow the country itself matters even more than the general area.
I know this question doesn’t have malicious intent. It’s not meant to be a “WHERE ARE YOU FROM? OH, REALLY? GET OUT OF MY COUNTRY!” sentiment, but it gets repetitive. I live in Toronto, which likes to name anyone who doesn’t fit into its melting pot, ‘multicultural.’ I should expect to get this question on a daily basis since it can be a conversation topic; “Where are you from? Oh, really? I’m from _______.” That said, it truly depends on who is asking and the context. Sometimes it does feel like a judgment call or a check on my citizenship status, however unconscious it may be from the inquirer. Many of the times I have gauged the question as intrusive, it has been asked by a white person.
For example, a middle-aged white man was on an elevator with me. He was friendly and nodded hello to me when he saw me. Then he asked, “where are you from?” I was very taken aback, and I felt my body withdraw just a little. I didn’t know how to answer. I was very young when I immigrated to Canada. I’ve lived two-thirds of my life in Canada. I’m a Canadian citizen. I knew that’s not what he was asking.
I muttered, “the Caribbean”, because I was feeling passive aggressive, and was met with, “oh, which part?” Does it even matter? I just wanted off of the elevator at that point. It didn’t occur to me at the time that he might have just been making friendly chit-chat, or that I actually had the choice (gasp!) to not say a word. I just kept muttering so he would leave me alone. I don’t even remember what I said. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to say where I was really from or lie, and if I did lie, would that be turning my back on the country I was born in? Would it mean I’m ashamed of where I immigrated from? He interpreted the muttering as “St. Lucia”, which is nowhere near what I had said, and started talking about how he’d been there several times on vacation, nice weather, such a lovely food, etc. I was relieved when he got off the elevator. I didn’t exactly feel safe being catapulted into “friendly” banter about my birthplace with this man towering over me.
I recognize, though, that despite my skin colour being a visual prompt to ask this question, I have a Canadian accent. This is definitely something I benefit from. I’ve seen other people of colour with non-Western accents (i.e. not Canadian/US/English, though less on the last one) prodded more about where they are from because it is painfully “obvious” to the inquirer that they could not possibly be Canadian. White immigrants with accents must get this all the time as well, but I’m not sure if there is the same intrusive factor that plays.
This post is starting to get away from me. I really only have one thought about this question. Everything else is muddy in my head. Why is it anyone’s business where I was born? What is telling people that I’m not “from here”? Does it mean that I don’t belong? What matters now is that I’m living here now. None of us are “from here”, except Aboriginals, and, much to my endless amusement, even Natives are asked where they are from too.
I think the question “where are you from?” is intrusive no matter who is asking the question and who it’s being asked too. I hate it with a bitter passion, but interestingly enough for me in my experience it’s never been so much about a question of belonging in the greater Canadian society, but a crisis of Canadian culture.
Perhaps it is because I’ve spent all of my life being the nation’s visible majority but engaging in a good deal of social interaction surrounded by so many minorities that I just don’t feel like I AM the majority. I’ll be honest and say I have always hated the question, “Where are you from?” because it makes me feel left out. When brought up in a discussion, people I know are able to go on about where their families are from, be it Asia, Eastern Europe, or anywhere most people would deem “ethnic”. I’m white and have been in Canada since my great grandparents immigrated here. I think I’d fall into what we can call the “hoser” demographic (it’s a terribly comical stereotype, but it suits the purpose of the example) so what am I to say when I’m asked where I’m from?
“I’m Canadian.” “Yeah, but where are you REALLY from?” “Canada.” “No, I mean where did your parents come from?” “Canada.” “Okay… um… your grandparents then?” “Canada.” “Oh.”
I’ve had that conversation dozens of times and it’s always left me feeling excluded, like being Canadian means absolutely nothing. I don’t know why I’m bringing this up but I guess I find it interesting that the same question can bring up two completely different sorts of negative emotions. It always makes me feel culture-less. I’m not Italian enough, or Scottish enough, or Irish enough to really belong in those cultural circles, but at the same time if I say I’m Canadian that idea is meaningless.
Perhaps our experiences merely illustrate that we live in a society that is far too eager to focus on “multiculturalism” instead of just BEING, you know?
My sister nearly came to blows with some dude in a kebab shop when she was working in England, because he kept demanding to know where she was from and when she wouldn’t say anything other than “Canada”, he accused her of being ashamed of her heritage. Sigh.
Anyhow, I just wanted to say that as an Indo-Trinidadian with a Canadian accent and my 4th year majoring in Women’s & Gender Studies — I know where you’re coming from, girl. I look forward to getting to know your blog!
Melis: I think you’re onto something here. I was thinking about this today and I think I agree with you. When someone asks this question, regardless of who they are, it is always intrusive. As someone else commented to me elsewhere, it is someone asking you to answer a detail about yourself to satiate their curiosity, even if you do not have the answer. You’re being put on the spot and put out of your comfort zone. It is quite different when sharing your thoughts with your friends, since you are usually doing it of your own volition and not responding to someone else’s curiosity.
I honestly don’t even know what it means to be Canadian. When most people close their eyes and think of a “Canadian” culture, they see hockey, donuts, maple leaves, beavers, and so on, and I think that is a framework most people in this country don’t fall into because our national identity apparently lies on symbolism. I’m not sure I support establishing a national anything – with strong incoming and outgoing streams of people, I don’t know what we could unite on as “Canadian.” I’ve heard people say that you don’t truly know what being a Canadian is until you go somewhere else and try to hype yourself up as Canadian.
My experience of ‘being’ Canadian has always been “you’re not Canadian enough”, a sentiment I feel everywhere I go in the world. When I go to Trinidad, I get the comments that I’m no longer a Trini because I’m “too” Canadian, and I don’t know anything about the culture because I’m so (apparently) out of touch. I’ve had a lot of Indians (from India) tell me that I’m not actually Indian because I was born in the West Indies and neither myself, nor my parents, nor my grandparents, have ever stepped foot in India. Strangely enough, when I’m in Canada, I’m supposed to embrace those identities that I don’t feel a connection with or have been rejected from because I’m not “really” Canadian.
What I’m trying to say is I agree with you!
miss marissa: I wish your sister’s experience wasn’t so widespread. Like I said above to Melis, I think a part of it is that we don’t have a Canadian identity that is rooted in anything but symbolism. It’s especially frustrating because this guy already made an assumption about your sister’s answer, and when it wasn’t what he wanted, he had to accuse her of something.
Thanks for reading! I’m virtually everything you just said in your comment, haha!
i hate this question because i have ALWAYS gotten it because i look different. it never occured to me that that was why, or that most people aren’t asked this question regularly like i am.
hell, i’m white, but because i’m darker skinned in some way, people HAVE TO KNOW why i look different than them. it is true that sometimes people are so like OMG to see someone who doesn’t look totally white that that’s why they ask… this is especially true of minority people it seems (I have a lot of middle eastern, indian, israelis, etc asking me where i’m from, lol).
and if it’s a man, the question often follows with, ‘ohhh… you look so *exotic*.’ well good for fucking me i guess. @@ i don’t find it to be a compliment.
[...] the history of Trinidad and the Caribbean from a unique vantage point as an Indo-Caribbean. As I mentioned before, I get asked “where are you from?” a lot. I am also asked, “What are you?”, as though that is any less invasive. One of the [...]
[...] Uppity Brown Woman has a great post about this very question as well, so I will leave you with the link to it! [...]
I don’t really know what to say to you for this – I know being mixed I get it from people as well, and always feel like I’m justifying why someone who looks the way I do, is in Canada – because I can’t just answer “Canada” I then have to explain my answer, and why I look the way I do.
It must be difficult for you though, because…I guess the route of your ancestors (India to Trinidad and then Canada)? So it’s not…clear cut, I guess, in that you may not look like one would expect from someone that lived in Trinidad.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I kind of understand what you’re saying here.
It’s been in my head for awhile — actually, it was your post that got me thinking and off my ass to get the “I’m just brown” post written (again, not that it’s the same situation). I would be interested in hearing more about it, Lauren, only if you’d like to share … hint hint, nudge nudge.
I guess people assume I’m from India, and act accordingly. It’s funny in an unfunny way that the place I am most associated with, especially in Canada, is a place I have next to no connection with.
OH, Lorelei, I didn’t forget about you. In case you ever come back to read this. :)
Oh, yes. The “You’re not only different from me, you’re different in a way that isn’t privileged. That means I can interrogate you about your life no matter the circumstances” ploy.
I especially love it when they think they’re being nice by showing interest in every aspect of your life, like it’s not invasive or anything.
Oh, that’s a beautiful summation, Lisa. Feelings of entitlement allows a privileged person to want to know everything, and they don’t need to know it for anything but satisfying their own curiosity. Autonomy is apparently a privilege now.