The Oxford Dictionary defines intersectionality as “the interconnected nature of social categorisations such as race, class, and gender, regarded as creating overlapping and interdependent systems of discrimination or disadvantage.” Intersectionality is the acknowledgment that everyone has their own unique experiences of discrimination and oppression, and we must consider everything and anything that can marginalise people: gender, race, class, sexual orientation, physical ability, and other demographic categories. First coined by Professor Kimberlé Crenshaw back in 1989, intersectionality was added to the Oxford Dictionary in 2015 with its importance increasingly being recognised in the world of women’s rights.
The word Intersectionality and the concept of it is extremely new to me. When I learned the definition of it, I was wondering if it is actually a new concept or if the world just realized that we have been all playing these roles for the longest time. After a little bit of pondering I started to chart a map for myself. I locate myself as a South Asian, Indian American, multilingual 42-year-old brown-skinned Hindu woman from a patriarchal culture married to an equally brown Indian man, both of us immigrants, born into a middle-class blue-collared family, a mother, a sister, a daughter-in-law, and a complex trauma survivor. In addition to these, I also locate myself as privileged. I am well educated and married to a loving and supportive man who earns enough that I don’t have to work; furthermore, I locate myself as a homemaker, lawyer, trauma educator, peer supporter, and trauma recovery coach.
Picture credit iwda.org.au
After acknowledging the ways in which I locate myself, the next question I asked myself is how these factors have manifested in my life. If I had been living in India, would I be asking this question, or am I asking this question to myself because I reside in the US? In response to the last question, I would answer yes. In a world where a lot of us are judged on how we look, it is very important to me that I start to feel comfortable in my own skin.
Growing up in a society that values male children more than a female child, I was, on the contrary, taught very early on in my childhood that I was privileged, and that my father didn’t distinguish between a male or a female. I believe this treatment is one reason I had a fawning response growing up. My father put constant pressure on me to always be the best; however, it was his own need to prove that his daughters are the best. He strived to prove that although he didn’t have sons, he had raised excellent offspring who were brilliant in every which way. Being born in a patriarchal society, a majority of Indian women have always been overshadowed by the men in their lives, and I was no exception. As a child growing up in a violent household where the man was dominant, my responses were mostly flight or freeze. As a teenager subjected to objectification and who was always taught that men need only one thing from a woman, I was always on guard but assault happened anyway. My gender is my dominant presentation to the world, which has changed from how I operated back in India. The gender factor of intersectionality manifested quite early on in my life due to the fact that I was a female child. In a culture where women are taught to be submissive no matter their education, I have always been stuck in fight-or-flight responses throughout my life. Had I not been a woman, I would still have to be responsible for the family, but the expectations would be a little less. There would have been pressure to study as a boy, but I would have not been exposed to the same injustices of a patriarchal society. But that’s another story, and since I cannot see the world within that dimension, I cannot fully address the unknown or the what ifs.
Picture credit www.cultureamp.com
As a brown-skinned Indian immigrant in the United States, I am privileged. I realize that I am in a very comfortable position because of the income our household makes. However, in recent times, I have been judged for my accent, and now I realize that I might have been hired in my first job due to the fact that I was a brown-skinned Indian. The stereotypical thinking that Indians care only about money and will work crazy hours no matter what the job probably is the root cause for this. A brown-skinned woman sitting at the front desk in an immigration firm says it all. No matter what qualifications I had, it didn’t matter for this job. I was paid a low salary, but since it was my first job, I took it anyway. I didn’t last long in that job because my mind and my body were in the fight and flight response the whole time I was working there. Being a mother and having to take care of a child and a home, as well as being a dutiful daughter-in-law, are aspects of Indian identity and womanhood that come into the forefront again and again.
The more I delve into how our identity is defined based on how we look, our skin color, our speech and our culture, the more I am fascinated by the world we live in. Treating trauma cannot be possible unless we look into an individual’s intersectionality. Though the trauma experiences of an individual are unique, the factors regarding why that trauma has manifested are collective.
Guest Post Disclaimer: Any and all information shared in this guest blog post is intended for educational and informational purposes only. Nothing in this blog post, nor any content on CPTSDfoundation.org, is a supplement for or supersedes the relationship and direction of your medical or mental health providers. Thoughts, ideas, or opinions expressed by the writer of this guest blog post do not necessarily reflect those of CPTSD Foundation. For more information, see our Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer.
Shravani is a complex trauma survivor and is a Certified Trauma Recovery Coach. She is a Daily Support Call Leader for CPTSD Foundation. She is a group facilitator for PostPartum Support International and Parent Helping Parents. She is a mom of two teenage boys and loves gardening, reading and nature photography.
