Brown Melancholia

Image sourced from https://www.cityartsnewbury.co.uk

Yesterday, saw Mental Health Awareness Month (16-22 May 2016) kick off in the UK with charities, individuals and organisations holding events to talk about mental health.

When it comes to discussing mental health, there is a collective reluctance for South Asians (both in the Diaspora and the motherland) to have those important conversations with people who live with a mental health illness or those who live with family members suffering from depression, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia and other illnesses.

It’s a bizarre dichotonomy; on one hand we don’t talk about mental health problems enough yet we don’t even realise the impact it has on people who live with relatives who suffer from a mental health illness.

My father has depression, and has lived with it for many years, so much so that I don’t remember a time when my dad didn’t have depression. I love my dad – he’s been a mother and a father to me due to personal circumstances– and it’s so difficult to see someone I love so much live with a mental health illness that takes over their life.

If I were to describe how it feels, I’d say that it goes like this: my dad, depression and me. In that order. And it’s not his fault that he has bad days and doesn’t feel like he can face the world. I know that my dad is not his depression.

I’ve grown up hearing relatives say that my father ‘is mad’ or they give him a wide berth because they don’t know how to talk to him, they think that he’s an unstable, volatile freak of nature so they end up saying something offensive or backward.

That used to really get to me, but now, I know it’s because that’s all they ever knew about mental health problems and that they’re merely a product bred by the silence we choose to maintain.

With so many resources and tech at our fingertips, we can’t keep relying on the old ‘log kya kahenge‘

This silence which has permeated generations, and still continues to, is what frightens and angers me. As a collective Diaspora, we are so concerned with what other people will think (“log kya kahenge?”) that we would rather choose silence over losing face in order to save a loved one.

 

You have no idea how much I hate those three words: log kya kahenge and the untold suffering, melancholy, helplnessness and pain it inflicts upon so many people of South Asian descent.

When it comes to topics, any topic, we all know that silence is complicit yet so many South Asians will choose to stay silent, make ignorant comments or shift uncomfortably in their seats if someone talks about depression, suicide or counselling.

We’ve ended up turning another thing into a stigma because we refuse to let go off our ego, pride and arrogance, which may give us short term social prestige, but it makes our lives a misery.

This in turn makes it very difficult for us to assess how widespread this issue is, given that there already is very little data to help doctors and mental health experts on how to approach South Asians who suffer from mental health problems.

Today, there is not a single valid excuse, for Diasporic Asians to make ignorant statements about mental health given that 1 in 4 people will suffer from/experience a mental health illness at some point in their lifetime.

In the same way that so many of us choose silence over awareness, we can also make the choice to educate ourselves about mental health illlnesses, support those living with one and choose unity over living in our respective ivory towers.

 

“Stop Being Such a Girl!”

The Birth of Venus, Botticelli. http://www.ancient.eu

 

On my many outdoor adventures I come across a variety of people and often hear snippets of conversations that I sometimes wish that I could ‘un-hear.’

At the weekend, I heard someone exclaim: “Oh for goodness sake! Stop being such a girl!” to a very young girl who was in tears. I had no idea what had happened or went on, but it’s something that has stayed in the back of my mind since.

Despite this phrase sounding rather outdated, it’s one that I hear being casually thrown around a lot more than I would like it to be. I have a massive problem with this phrase; it’s not just said to girls but to boys as well. This phrase basically tells us that the worst thing that anyone could be is a girl. With this in mind, is it any wonder that women and girls across the world are continually disrespected, abandoned and abused?

Upon hearing this, the little girl immediately made an attempt to silence her sobs, dry her tears and look extremely embarrassed as she walked out of the park with her mum and siblings. It made me feel really sad because I remember being told this when I was younger, especially if I became upset or angry at something. I was often met with the words of: “Ladies don’t behave like this!” “Ladies don’t get angry or shout, control yourself.”

It confused me and if I’m honest it still confuses me; especially if someone says it to my face today. If I get angry, does that mean I’m not a lady? If I feel like crying, does that mean I’m not a lady? If one of my cousins – girl or boy – is feeling emotional, I let them work through it before it becomes a scar which affects their self esteem and well being. Being emotional, or having emotions, doesn’t make you less of a man (whatever that means) or a girl. It makes you a human being.

What many seem to forget is this: we are products shaped by our environments. It should come as no surprise that these little girls grow up to become women who feel insecure, unhappy, helpless and lack confidence in ourselves. We all talk about wanting to create a change, but in all honesty, it starts with how we treat ourselves and those around us.

I love this painting by Sandro Botticelli; it’s called The Birth of Venus and depicts the Goddess of love emerging from the sea as a nude adult woman. Everything about this painting celebrates the connotations of female sexuality and identity despite it being painted in an era where nude women in art were hardly portrayed. Regardless of this, Botticelli still went ahead and created one of the world’s most famous paintings.

Fast forward to now and we can’t seem to get enough of nude women in advertising. Despite a large scale subconscious dislike of women, many of us look at Botticelli’s painting and admire his craft. In fact, I’m certain that many of us admire the way that women have been painted and documented throughout the ages. Although Venus is standing demurely and attempts to cover herself shyly with her hair and right hand, her head is held high and coquettishly tilted to one side. There is an outward sense of power and pride in herself as a woman.

Can you imagine someone telling Venus to ‘stop being such a girl’ the second she stepped off her shell? I for one can’t and this type of behaviour is something that needs to be called out more.

As I like to end on a happy note, the next day I was at home when a couple of cousins visited. One of them (she’s only four bless her) was having a moment where she was feeling overwhelmed and decided to openly express it. She was met with the rather cruel words of: “Stop being such a girl” by an older male member of my family. Before the words left my mouth, she had silenced him with the cry of: “But I AM a girl!”

When I saw and heard her say this, I couldn’t help but smile to myself and think: ‘There’s hope. Tons and tons of it.’

Girl

(c) Woodside High School

 

Yesterday I was at an Aspirations Day in a North London school talking to a group of year 9 girls about the job that I do and how I got here since finishing my formal education. It was a refreshing event and I was so happy to be in a room full of young girls who had ambitions, felt hopeful at seeing successful women in front of them and wanted to have a better life for themselves.

On my way home I was quite emotional because although I often plague myself with self doubt, it reminded me why I started up my own business and how far I’ve come despite having faced so much adversity.

During my presentation, I shared my own personal story and spoke about something that, until then, only my immediate family had known. I’ve been discussing many topics and having conversations with individuals in the run up to International Women’s Day. I was speaking with Rani Bilkhu, a campaigner and founder of Jeena International, an organisation that is passionate about combating gendercide and sex-selective abortions, when I opened up about something that happened to me when I was younger.

The work that Bilkhu does touched a nerve with me because it’s something that I am all too familiar with. When my parents split up, and my mother abandoned us. At the same time, she also burnt bridges with me. At the time, I was fourteen, and when she left the house I asked her: “Why can’t I come with you?” to which she replied, “I don’t want you. I never did because you’re a girl. Stop talking to me.” It’s sad that I remember this phone call because I didn’t know what it felt like to be unwanted until I heard those words.

Until my presentation yesterday, I hadn’t spoken about this with anyone, because for a long time I felt ashamed to be a girl. I felt like it carried a burden, a pain and was something bad. It hurts me even now that someone who is supposed to love and care for you unconditionally dislikes you because of your gender – even though they were once a girl and ironically come from a very large female-centric family. It affected almost every area of my life and I grew up feeling inadequate; something that I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Weirdly enough, my paternal family were thrilled when I was born because I was the first girl after 28 years.

I grew up feeling conflicted. On one hand, I was loved and protected, but in the back of my mind I felt like I couldn’t really relax or trust the love that my father’s family gave me.  I even met up with her in my final year of university, with the hope of changing her mind, but even after all those years she hadn’t changed which stung. On my own terms, I knew that there nothing I could do and that it had never been my fault so I cut ties for good. It’s something that I’ve never regretted because I knew that I did everything in my power to try and repair our bond. It just didn’t work out and I am better off for it. I am glad that I am. now, in a position to use my  line of work to give self esteem, hope and confidence to young girls and women of all backgrounds.

Incidentally, yesterday, MPs voted against amending the law to criminalise gender-selective abortion. It is wonderfully explained in this must-read blog. Whilst some may be shaking their heads in disagreement, I’m personally glad that MPs did not vote in favour of this amendment because it would have put a lot of vulnerable women and young girls at risk.

For those who purse their lips in disapproval, amending a law is not going to stop this from happening. Even if the law had been amended, people would have resorted to back-street abortions and gone abroad to abort female foetuses. This is an issue which is deeply embedded in pockets of different ethnic communities and cultures which needs to be addressed. It’s a bit like only giving a person with a broken arm painkillers and not binding their injury. Until we begin to challenge these thought processes, begin to respect and defend women and girls of all ages, then we might see the green shoots of progress and a better tomorrow start to grow.