Silenced and Marginalised: The Difficult Truth of Intersectionality as a British South Asian Woman

Silenced and Marginalised: The Difficult Truth of Intersectionality as a British South Asian Woman?

I focus on leadership and inclusive cultures. My work comes from a deeply held belief that we can create for better, a mindset that things can be better and can get better. I guess you could say I am an eternal optimist.

This week after some periods of reflection, I have started to unearth some uncomfortable feelings.

Although my work centres around more human workplaces, where leaders create more inclusive cultures built on nurturing the soft skills (which in fact, I think are the harder ones to master), I realised that bringing this to life also requires digging deep into lived experiences.

Intersectionality

Kimberle Crenshaw coined the term ‘intersectionality’ in 1989, describing the systematic oppression and discrimination that is felt when an overlap of marginalised identities such as race, gender, class, and sexuality are present.

So I sat with my own thoughts and feelings. In all honesty, I had struggled for most of my life to accept that the playing field isn’t even, and that I was disadvantaged. As a child to immigrant parents, it was drilled into me, if I work hard, I could achieve anything, and that meritocracy existed. Afterall, I went to a grammar school, had a good education with a BSc and MSc under my belt, and have been told many times (particularly by white male colleagues) ‘You’ve done well for yourself, you’ve been successful, haven’t you?’. Back then, I couldn’t disagree, but now, I wonder successful by whose standards?

The uncomfortable reality of my lived experience

I have grown up in the corporate world, having to learn to navigate the environments which are predominantly public school, white, male and alcohol oriented, from an impressionable age and the somewhat vulnerable stages of my early twenties.

As a woman I have endured sexual harassment at work. I have been groped, multiple times in one evening in a public place at a work event. I have been called into a room, had the door closed (and twice locked) whilst being told they were undressing me with their eyes, and on another occasion being asked what I would do if he unzipped his trousers whilst standing with his groin inches away from my face. These were senior leaders. I have had male colleagues draw attention to body parts in a group setting. The list could go on. My reaction each time, I froze or even worse, made light of the situation. For some deep-seated reason I struggled to speak up. On the two occasions I did, when I confided in my team, a female peer said I ‘was probably asking for it’, and the on the second occasion I reported it to HR, not for them to take action, but to prove that if I were to face any repercussions, I had somehow pre-emptively protected my reputation, and staved off blame. A sad thought really.

As a person of colour, there are other times I have felt marginalised in the workplace. At best I have been overlooked for promotions, pay rises and new opportunities, at worst I have felt someone’s distain where they avoided eye contact, refused to shake my hand and act as if I were invisible (to the point my white colleague noticed, but of course only questions the behaviour once we had left the room). The trouble with racism these days is that it’s covert. Back in the day, all too often people would shout racial slurs, you knew they were racist - now it may be less socially acceptable but the attitude, behaviour and consequences still exist.

For anyone who has felt racism they will tell you they know exactly the feeling I describe, it hits you hard in the pit of your stomach. Reactions vary, but for many, you don’t say anything, you question your own feelings, push them aside, burry the shame and embarrassment and listen to the voice that says ‘you’re imagining it’, ‘you’re being too sensitive’ - but that sick feeling in your stomach remains, and resurfaces every time you replay that moment in your mind. The impact is profound, it compromises your sense of belonging, identity, and legitimacy.?It erodes confidence, dims your light and reinforces the systems and structures which keep true equality at bay.

So why not speak up?

I have been slowly awakened to the fact that my own cultural and societal norms have further compounded the problem. As a British Mauritian with roots in Indian culture - I’m constantly looking through a clouded lens. Even within my own upbringing, serving others first (particularly men) is seen as virtuous. Not speaking up or out is polite and respectful. To challenge is seen as defiance. Sexist norms are further reinforced with subtle everyday acts which appear to be caring and protective on the surface but in reality, keep women and girls in a lesser position to the men, and maintain disempowerment. The effects of such conditioning runs deep. I realise even today, I often wait to be asked before sharing my opinion, more than I like to admit I seek permission and asserting myself can still feel uncomfortable no matter how self-assured I am.

What do we do to make a fairer and more equitable place where such complexities are rife?

Up until this point I would have said, we need to;

1. build self-awareness - sensing and feeling the situation as it arises and learning to respond not react
2. skilfully question - the best way to create a shift in perspective is not to protest but to bring about a realisation, and that includes when your an observer seeing others being on the receiving end
3. do this work at an individual level but also systemically in our institutions and businesses

In addition, I would say we need empathy. A real ability to step into someone’s shoes and be with them, where they are, without judgement.

However after this week, I don’t think that’s enough.

Do I have the answer? No. However, I keep learning, keep asking the difficult questions and challenge myself and others to do better, yes.

I recognise that this article may not resonate with many of you - in fact I realise that this is possibly part of the problem; my circles are a product of my environments, something which I am gradually working to shift in order to expand my own perspective.

Back to Kimberle Crenshaw, she said, the point of intersectionality is to make room “for more advocacy and remedial practices” to create a more egalitarian system. Thirty-four years later we’re still working on it- and nowhere near close to where we need to be.

My final thought, we have to see everyone’s value, all of the time. How we do that, I’m still not sure. I’m figuring it out. It’s hard, but then again things worth fighting for are never easy.

NB: if your interested in learning more, two books that made me think

• Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race, Reni Eddo-Lodge
• A Radical Awakening: Turn Pain Into Power, Embrace Your Truth, Live Free, Dr Shefali Tsabary

If you’re in interested in being part of the solution and helping to figure it out - message me - let’s design a better place together.

Reimagining the way we work, live and lead