Do you have a “weird” accent?

2012 -  as soon as I walked in with my mother to my seventh grade parent-teacher conference, my science teacher started talking about how good of a student I am in English, as I watched my mother silently nod her head. The thing is,  I went to an English-medium school, and in at least the area of Pakistan I grew up in, if a person knew or spoke English, he or she was considered more superior or educated, while the person who didn’t speak English, to be more specific speak English with a “weird” accent, was considered illiterate. By the time, I came to terms with the fact that I should interpret my teacher and tell her that my mom doesn’t understand English, the conversation was over. As soon as we left her classroom, my mom asked me, “Kya keh rahi thi woh, Sab theek hai na?” (What was she saying, is everything ok?) I explained to my mother what my teacher was saying about me as we walked towards the car.

Fall of  2013 - for as long as I can remember, I hated talking in front of people. Partly because I am an introvert and partly because everything I did was commented on by my family or friends, and that comment always ended with, "What will people think?" Towards the end of 8th grade, I  was going about my day, as usual, following along on my book, while someone in my English class was reading out loud. Out of nowhere, I hear the teacher say, "Anam, can you please continue from where she ended?" My heart started racing, my face turned red, and only one thought repeatedly crossing my mind was,

"What will people say? What will people think?

But I finally gathered the courage to read out loud. That was the first time I read out loud in her class. As soon as I stopped reading and another student continued from where I left, my teacher came up to me and silently put a note on my desk which said, " I want to talk to you after class." Once the class was over, I followed her outside the classroom and she said, " Do you watch Hollywood movies," 

"Sometimes. Why?" I said.

To which she replied, " You have a weird accent when you talk, I would suggest watching at least one Hollywood movie a day, and try speaking like the actors in the movies."

Still shocked and confused about the conversation I just had with my teacher, I went home and despite it feeling wrong, I started doing what she suggested. Soon it became more like a daily routine. Even when I was in Pakistan, a country whose national language is Urdu,  I was taught to be ashamed of speaking in Urdu, I was taught to be ashamed of speaking English with a  “weird” accent. Most importantly, I was taught to be ashamed of who I was. 

On the first day of 9th grade - along with a 14-year-old who was experiencing a major culture shock, I brought in the words of my 8th-grade teacher, " You have a weird accent." As soon as I entered the building, I was relieved to see that the majority of the population in my high school was South Asian. I was glad that I can just talk to them in Urdu and that I don’t have to talk to them in the fake accent that I picked up from the movies, or in the "weird" accent that I initially had and still have. But soon my relief turned into anger and embarrassment when my fellow students started making fun of me for talking in Urdu, or straight up telling me that they are not going to respond to me if I continue talking in Urdu. So, I did what I have been taught all my life, I tried my best to assimilate. I started to talk to everyone in English. Since I spent most of my day outside of the house, I started mixing more English words than usual in the conversations that I had with my mom in Urdu. Eventually, I started feeling disconnected from her and tried to figure out why. At first, I thought, it might be due to me having different ideas than her now. But after struggling for a month to have a proper conversation with her, I decided to try the last time to rebuild the relationship we once used to have. During that conversation, I noticed, the same clueless look on her face that I saw when she was sitting in the parent-teacher conference with my science teacher. I was shocked and immediately started trying to translate every English word to Urdu before saying it out loud. But to my surprise, even after trying so hard, I wasn’t able to do that and I walked away feeling embarrassed and upset about losing that one thing that helped me connect with my mom and was a reminder of who I actually was. 

That day, I promised myself that I would not let other people’s opinions dictate my love for Pakistani culture and Urdu. With the help of a group of friends who just like I have moved to the U.S recently, I was able to navigate through the feeling of being ashamed of my culture, and who I was. With their help, I was able to understand that it's ok to not only accept where you are from but also be proud of the language you speak. Over time, I noticed myself being comfortable with speaking in Urdu, and me participating in class even with that "weird" accent. By the time, we were seniors, my peers who used to make fun of me for speaking in Urdu or pretended like they didn't understand what I was saying when I used to talk in Urdu, was talking in Urdu, and proudly dancing to Bollywood songs during spirit week. 

Fall 2019 - while interning at a company, I met another Pakistani female who was a freshman in college at the time. I still remember the smile on her face when she found out that I was Pakistani and that I had moved to the U.S. 7 years ago. For most of the day, since we were in a diverse group setting, I felt really uncomfortable when she started talking to me in Urdu. Although I didn't say anything rude to her and tried to act as I was comfortable with it, my reaction to her speaking to me in Urdu bothered me. So, I asked myself, " Why was I bothered by it?" Turns out, I wasn’t bothered by it because I was ashamed of her talking in Urdu, I was bothered by it because I didn't want anyone else in the room to feel excluded from the conversation just because they don't understand Urdu. This became more prominent to me when one of the team members asked what we were talking about while I was having a conversion with my Pakistani coworker in Urdu. The next day, I went in and I explained to my Pakistani coworker  what the situation was and we decided to talk to in Urdu if we were alone or after we leave the office

It is really important to understand the choices we are making in our workplace and school, sometimes it's not about feeling ashamed about a part of our identity but it is about making sure that everyone in the room is feeling included. I urge you to understand the ‘WHY’ behind wanting to hide a certain part of your identity in a certain environment because if you don't, you might assimilate to the point where you don't even know who you are anymore.