Inclusion Elevates All

 “Don’t tolerate me as different. Accept me as part of the spectrum of normalcy.”

- Ann Northrop 

Be it that our skin is fair or dark or hair is short or long or are attracted to males or females, at the end of the day, it does not change the fact that we all are Homo sapiens, or to say, human beings. Literally meaning that nobody is an outsider or a misfit. It is just made to seem so. Accordingly, marginalizing and/or ostracizing of a certain group of people just because they are too different does not make any sense. Rather, the truth is that we all are different in one way or the other. It simply depends on how we slice the pie. 

Now if one gets the smaller end of the pie, that still does not mean that the pie could be complete without that piece, however small it is. So, no matter however the bigger chunk tries to obliterate the smaller segments, the smaller bits have the right to exist happily and peacefully with utmost dignity. This is rightly expressed by the honourable Judge D. Gregory Geary through his words in the Orberti v. Board of Education case, “Inclusion is a right, not a privilege for a select few.” Nonetheless, ‘better’ for the smaller piece would mean better for the bigger one too. That is why, appreciating and acknowledging the intersectionality of the dignity of various lumps of people, like in a Venn diagram, provide an insight into how inexorably interlinked we all are and how the support and love of one could serve as their life’s building block for another. 

Nevertheless, the road to dignity is a long way ahead and should start by valuing oneself and accepting the fact that if someone does not accept you as you are, then it is because they do not deserve you which is their loss. Once you learn to value yourself, then it is about the rights you are rightfully entitled to. Though the road to obtaining these rights might be full of uncertainties, that does not mean that you got to beg for mere crumbs because that will only get you even lesser than those crumbs. Rather, through this journey, another integral mission of life needs to be undertaken. 

It is often not realized how unlearning is as much a mission of life as learning. Unlearning is a crucial tool to be efficiently used to achieve the dignity one deserves by eradicating the age-old beliefs, people are conditioned to put their confidence into, stemming out of and fuelling patriarchy, misogyny, bigotry, etc., with no definable scientific basis. Unlearning and relearning can be achieved by sharing personal experiences, rather than facts and figures, as the heart is the road to the mind. These values were effectively portrayed in the struggle against Proposition 8 in California, USA in 2008 for marriage equality. 

Then again, this road from someone’s heart to their mind might be full of hurdles and blocks and getting hurt sometimes becomes inevitable. Even then, those tears, trickling over the traces left by those personal stories, are a sign that something inside is healing and never should it be let for anyone to plant the idea that it is a sign of weakness. In lieu of this, healing can also emanate from talking out one's grievances. Having someone who merely stays beside and listens wholeheartedly without offering any unwarranted advice can be the greatest boon through that journey of personal storytelling. 

Thus, happiness is something of our own making but at the same time, it cannot be a lone deed. It is the result of coming together of like-minded people who understand that nothing in this world can be ascertained for sure and that conversely, we all live in a vibrant spectrum, striving towards the same goal. In that journey, many small pieces of the pie collaborate to build a far happier and more inclusive world for the posterity while hoping to share a part of that happiness before we leave. And this is the only way we can get the pendulum of progress moving forward again. 

Why Are You Like That?

Abstract

What would you feel like if someone asked why you acted like yourself? This story delves into a facet of that question and shows how that question can let someone down and how they pick themselves up. It describes the intense and raw feelings of a lost person. It also shows how one person's lessons and efforts can pick another person up. This story is a snippet from my life.

Story

I sat up on my bed feeling dizzy from my long slumber. The clock showed 10 am, 3 hours to my interview. Still unsure, I looked at the blinding sunlight gliding through my room. I got up and went to the kitchen of my 1BK studio apartment to prepare my coffee.

Sipping my coffee, I went back to my bed and stared blankly at the dust particles floating through the sunlight which flooded my mind with memories. 

I was in the 15th year of my life when I had my first love. We had moved to Oman for my father's business and changed buses to commute to school. On my first day on the bus, since people had fixed seats and I didn’t know anyone, I had sat alone somewhere in the first few seats. 

Her stop was exactly two stops after mine. Though she hadn't made much of a first impression, I had seen her noticing a new face. Few minutes later, she was standing before me and asking, "Are you new here?" I remember whispering a broken "yes", to which she had offered, "Do you want to sit with me?" I recall that making me really glad. 

Soon, we were having the time of our lives talking and visiting each other. She seemed like my only ray light in the dark and lonely world. We were quite close when I met another senior, in the same bus, who was especially close to her. Though there was nothing between them, I could sense myself getting pretty jealous of their proximity.

Back then, I didn't realize what my feelings were. So, a confession was the last thing on my mind. But now that I have realized them, they have become good memories…

My phone’s vibration woke me up from my thoughts. I got up from my bed to go to the bathroom, removed my clothes and looked at my naked body in the mirror. I ran my fingers along my curves. Seeing the tubelight’s shine bouncing along them immersed me in my thoughts once again.

I was 19 when the bulb finally lit. Quite a late-bloomer, I started doubting my sexuality. I probably started doubting that I may be different, a year before that but never realized that it was my sexuality at the end of the day. Moreover, being in a new country and unfamiliar environment didn't help. Though I had an inkling of being gender-blind, I only became sure after moving to India. 

Besides, by the time I was 20, I was 3 years into a crush on my bestfriend. During the first year, it was very confusing and, often, anxiety and denial took over me because I thought that I was mixing up feelings of friendship with that of love. Not knowing that I'm pansexual didn't help. I didn't even know that I was gender-blind for sure. This was quite a turbulent but insightful time. But it was only once I became sure of my sexuality that I became completely sure of my feelings. 

It was during a class that I first discussed my doubts of not being straight with a friend of mine. Then, it was a tsunami of research and trying out tests on sexualities and related stuff. It was a very confusing time and the feeling that I couldn't fit in anywhere which I had all through my childhood was becoming all the more prominent. I felt isolated and since I wasn't sure of things, I couldn't even talk about it to anyone.

I remember having those "friendly conversations" with my guy friends in college regarding sex and sexualities and me being open about the fact that my partner's biological sex not mattering to me even before I had doubts that I was different. Getting weird looks during those talks were a given, though it never mattered.

Slowly, as I became sure of my sexuality, I started testing the waters with my parents. Once I became firmly sure, I came out to my best friend. He was very accepting which, for the most part, I knew he would be, was still relieving. But the sheer fact that people had no awareness about the terms 'pansexual' and 'demisexual' was harder than the process of coming out. And like most of the pansexuals out there, I did get the exasperating question of whether I liked pans.

Coming out to my parents was quite arduous as it was exhausting to get them to understand the concept of it. At first, mom was in denial but she slowly came around. Dad didn't seem to understand it and just ignored the sheer fact of it. It took a lot of attempts to get at least a question of acknowledgement - "Why are you like that?" - from my dad. And that wasn't the last time I got asked that question. But over time, dad seems to have accepted it, though, both of them still prefers my future partner to be of the opposite sex abiding to the societal norms of heteronormativity.

Then, I tried using dating apps to interact with people from the queer community since I didn't know whatelse to turn to. This was quite an eye-opening experience. I asked an individual who identified as lesbian, "Did you come out yet". She replied, "I haven't yet but I'll once I get a job". I asked, "Why do you have to wait until then?" and she replied, "I might be kicked out of my house. So, I need some sort of guarantee". That's when I understood where I might have been if my parents weren't as open-minded as they were. This interaction gave the image of 'coming out' being a gamble. 

Once she heard that my situation wasn't as bad, she said, "It's probably because you can get it on with the opposite sex too". This made me feel quite weird as it felt like just because I can go for all genders and some of my options may abide to the societal notions of heteronormativity, I belong neither to the queer community nor the heterosexual majority. It was as if my sexuality was something wrong, an anomaly. 

Even then, I wanted to proudly express who I am and what I am to the world. So, staying in the closet was never an option for me. So, I began coming out to my other friends, teachers and acquaintances. And once again, the hardest part was explaining what each term meant over and over again. Me being assumed as lesbian and being asked questions like "are you more into girls?", "can you even marry someone?" were such tedious misunderstandings to clear up that I wanted to give up a lot of times. Explaining it all over and over again was not just cumbersome, it felt like being ripped naked each time. 

Even then, I persevered through it until I stumbled upon that dreadful question once again, "Why are you like that?". Though it was just an innocent doubt my friend had, it felt like a thorn being nailed into me. It made me feel wrong, like an unrepairable mishap that happened during the manufacturing process, as if the only solution was to dispose it off.

Though I slowly gained courage to get back up again, I was again faced with questions like "why are you not hiding it if you aren't normal because if I were, I would have hid it for sure". This made me question why being different was a source of shame when I had done nothing wrong. Gradually, I started to only come out to people who belonged to the LGBTQI+ community themselves or people who worked for related purposes.

I took the freshly ironed suit from my wardrobe and propped it on. ‘I look good,’ I said to myself.

The interview lasted for about an hour. 

“Yes, sir,” I replied. 

“You have done pretty well and I think you are quite qualified for the job,” the interviewer said.

“Thank you”

“You will soon be informed of further particulars.”

I walked out of the building with confidence in my stride. 

Little did he know that he just interviewed the youngest board member in the company’s history…

“REVOLUTION IN THE CORPORATE SECTOR

'Being at home during the lockdown, I got involved in a lot of online pride events. That was when I finally felt liberated, as if I didn't have to hide anything, as if I finally belonged somewhere, somewhere I need not be ashamed of being myself. I felt like I wasn't a mistake and that I didn't need to apologize so much, in my heart, to my parents for being born. Being recognised for who I am felt like my life, a black and white picture by then, was finally being filled with vibrant colours. This gave me the courage to keep going forward,' said the youngest….."

The deafening noise of the train couldn’t disrupt the flow of her eyes from the newspaper. Sarah felt more confident in herself.