Are you Punjabi?

I have often struggled with my linguistic identity because I grew up in a home where multiple languages were spoken (Punjabi, Hindi, Nepali, and English), leading to a dilemma regarding my Mother Tongue.

Recently, at a professional networking event, a fellow attendee from the professional training fraternity asked for my name. I smiled and replied in English, ‘My name is Kiran Deep Sandhu.’ The individual immediately responded, ‘Oh, you’re Punjabi.’ This assumption about my Punjabi heritage, followed by the expectation to converse in Punjabi, though seemingly harmless, highlights a common habit of categorizing people by their language. This often overlooks their professional skills or what they prefer.

The struggle with my linguistic identity began early. When I joined Government College of Girls, Chandigarh—a city where people are predominantly Sikhs/Punjabis—I couldn’t adjust to the new college or city. My peers would constantly question me, ‘Are you really a Sardarni (Sikh woman)? You don’t look like one. How come you can’t speak Punjabi properly even though you are a Sikh? Why is your English accent British? Why don’t you dress like the other Punjabi girls in college?’

Within three months of my first year of college, I quit and went back home to Kathmandu, Nepal. The preconceived notions of what a Sikh girl should look like, speak like, and behave like made it impossible for me to fit in. I felt even more confused about my identity. My dreams of enjoying college life were shattered because I chose to drop out for a year and stay at home, trying to figure out why I wasn’t accepted. Being a Sikh should have logically placed me within the ‘in-group’ in a predominantly Punjabi society, but my linguistic abilities hindered my ability to connect, making me an ‘outsider.’

I remember asking my mom why they said I don’t look like a Sardarni. She replied nonchalantly that they don’t know how Punjabis not from Punjab look, speak, or behave because they haven’t been exposed. You didn’t wear a shalwar-kameez (traditional Punjabi attire) or tie your hair in two sideway ponytails.

Today, I realize that what my mom said back in the mid-1990s was true—people have preconceived notions about others based on their own personal experiences and cultural beliefs. I now understand that I had been a victim of unconscious bias, which refers to the attitudes or stereotypes that influence our understanding, actions, and decisions in an unconscious manner. These biases, often rooted in societal norms and personal experiences, can significantly impact an individual’s well-being and inclusion.

The following year, I took admission to Sophia’s College, Mumbai (back then, it was called Bombay), where no one cared about my multicultural, multilingual identity. I was able to blend in with others like me who either lived there or came to study/work from diverse cultural backgrounds. I love Mumbai (I still call it Bombay) because it gave me a sense of inclusion without people judging whether I was Punjabi, Nepali, or just a confused teenager.

In 2003, I moved to Malaysia after getting married. I started my professional career in Malaysia in a small town on the Borneo Island. I was predominantly surrounded by Chinese students, with a few Malay students. Unlike Kuala Lumpur, where a lot of Malaysian Indians reside, it was rare to see a fellow Indian. With such limited exposure, I remember walking into my first class to teach English to Year 10 students and was greeted with skepticism. I saw a student in the back of the room shaking his head like the Indian classical dancers you see on TV. All this was happening within split seconds before I had even spoken. It felt like witnessing a film of unconscious biases being displayed by these students based on their perceptions of all Indians.

I stood in the middle of the room, made eye contact with each of the students, especially the backbenchers (knowing from personal experience that they needed extra attention as I was always one of them in my school days). After a prolonged silence, I said, ‘Good afternoon students, I’m Kiran Deep Sandhu, your new English teacher.’ Suddenly, I sensed a new layer of confusion in the class. But without delving into my linguistic and cultural identity, I focused on the planned lesson, and soon the classroom environment normalized with chatter and pair work.

Beyond linguistic biases

Unconscious biases extend beyond linguistic preferences, touching on aspects like appearance, age, and perceived leadership abilities. For instance, being evaluated for a leadership coaching role often brings assumptions about one’s suitability based on looks or age rather than on expertise and experience. Such judgments can deter meaningful professional interactions and growth opportunities, highlighting how unconscious biases can shape career trajectories.

Strategies for Fostering Inclusivity

We all have experienced unconscious and sometimes intentional biases. Some we ignore, and some leave a profound impact on us. The question is, are we aware that we hold these biases?

Hence, addressing unconscious biases requires intentional action and commitment. Here are three strategies to cultivate more inclusiveness:

1. Open Dialogue and Personal Sharing: Encourage friends and colleagues to share their backgrounds and experiences so that people become more aware and can challenge preconceived biases.

2. Bias Training and Workshops: Organizations should educate employees on the nature and impact of unconscious biases so that a culture of more mindful interactions can be achieved.

3. Continuous Feedback and Self-reflection: Encourage a work culture where feedback is regularly exchanged and self-reflection is practiced so that individuals can recognize and adjust their biases.

Let’s be more aware, mindful and intentional.

About the Author:

I’m Kiran Deep Sandhu, a Sikh girl born in Nepal. I completed my higher education in Mumbai, New Zealand, and the UK and for the last 20 years, Malaysia has been home. I'm a certified Leadership Coach, Entrepreneur, Author, TEDx Speaker & a Social Entrepreneur. To connect, email: kiran@leadershipkard.com

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