How to Speak to People ‘Who Look Different’

A simple guide to avoid the wrong questions

Dear friends, colleagues, and numerous well-wishers,

I understand that it is not your intent to cause harm when you ask me about my background.

I have a Persian name. My frizzy hair makes me look Brazilian. I speak with an American-ish accent in a European country. And yet, I was born and raised in New Delhi.

It’s not hard for one to be confused about my origins. I admire your curiosity in learning more about me the first time that we meet. However, may I suggest a few changes to how the conversation generally goes?

“You speak perfect English!” Thank you. I know I do. And so do millions of other brown people who have had the privilege of education. The fact that I’ve been living in an English-speaking country for a good number of years also helps. By the way: the correct sentence would be “you speak English perfectly.”

“Hey, good to meet you. Where are you from?” This question should not be the amongst the opening lines of our first conversation. Asking this implies that you care more about my colour than my life. How about we try to figure out some topics that appeal to the both of us?

“Oh you’re from India? I love doing yoga!” And I hate it. I was forced to do it in school — worst classes I’ve ever attended. So please don’t assume that if someone hails from a country that is famous for xyz, they would automatically love xyz itself.

“Oh you’re from India? But you look Brazilian/Moroccan/Armenian…” ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“I watched this event in a movie, does that really happen in your country?” Sure, just the same way that the entire Fast & Furious franchise is based on real events.

“People from your country are so good at abc…” For me, it’s generally ‘Indians are so smart with technology’. On the other hand, my Mexican friend has been told that people from his country are amazing cooks. Here’s why saying this is problematic. It’s the racial equivalent of saying that women are great at doing household chores. The sentence is loaded with stereotypes. You’re essentially believing that I must be able to do something just because others who look like me can do it. At the same time, you’re precluding the chance to let me speak about my capabilities.

I’m sure you don’t recognise it, but there are many things— no matter spoken how innocuously — that highlight how I’m different to you. Shouldn’t we focus on our mutual interests instead? It could be football, music, politics or food.

But you won’t be able to find out unless you look past the colour of my skin.

Sincerely, Ard-sheer