Being visible in my own skin
Tonight was seminal in many ways. Ordinary by most measures- we had a drink, took a walk, went to a club, danced a bit, left, walked home, said goodnight, retreated to our respective lives- but I feel more visible then ever.
We were at Rangeela, an annual South-Asian fundraiser, elegantly nested (and somewhat marginalised) at the early cusp of Toronto's Pride celebrations. These were my people, or rather people like me. I didn't feel different, even though I never think I do, or so I tell myself. I recognised the music, the language, the vibe.
There is always a place you call "home" when you use the word, and I realised tonight how much more my identity finds its feet when it feels comfortable in its own skin. I realised in being visible, how invisible I can be otherwise. My community, also has a colour, and acknowledging it is a start.
Songs were played that reminded me of first blushes in my early days at University. I danced in a way that everyone else kind of did. I was no longer a minority. if I was looked at, it was for who I was, not what I was.
Race hasn't been something I've fixated on before, but for a change, 'brown' was the dominant tone in the room, and that let each of us be ourselves in ways we didn't realise we could, or rather I could...
What this may all amount to, I do not know. Like so many points in life when one stops and thinks for a moment about what one has experienced, the impact of that sliver of insight is felt at some other point of time when you least expect it to.
We were at Rangeela, an annual South-Asian fundraiser, elegantly nested (and somewhat marginalised) at the early cusp of Toronto's Pride celebrations. These were my people, or rather people like me. I didn't feel different, even though I never think I do, or so I tell myself. I recognised the music, the language, the vibe.
There is always a place you call "home" when you use the word, and I realised tonight how much more my identity finds its feet when it feels comfortable in its own skin. I realised in being visible, how invisible I can be otherwise. My community, also has a colour, and acknowledging it is a start.
Songs were played that reminded me of first blushes in my early days at University. I danced in a way that everyone else kind of did. I was no longer a minority. if I was looked at, it was for who I was, not what I was.
Race hasn't been something I've fixated on before, but for a change, 'brown' was the dominant tone in the room, and that let each of us be ourselves in ways we didn't realise we could, or rather I could...
What this may all amount to, I do not know. Like so many points in life when one stops and thinks for a moment about what one has experienced, the impact of that sliver of insight is felt at some other point of time when you least expect it to.
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