From Your Diary: Anushree Rayarikar
A rose among thorns. That’s what being a person of color on a predominantly white college campus often feels like. Having lived my whole life in a suburb that hosts an India Day festival, and is home to one of the largest Patel Brothers in the nation, coming to a non-diverse college campus was a major culture shock. Emotions of guilt, betrayal, denial, and confusion ran high.
On one hand, I felt as if I were betraying my upbringing by even choosing to go to a predominantly white school. Though it was the right choice for me academically, it meant leaving my culture behind when I moved out. I couldn’t continue my Bharatanatyam career, celebrate Diwali, or even enjoy a good samosa here. By coming to ISU, I had essentially created a separation between my persona at home and who I was at school.
At first, this separation did not hit me too hard. I was dealing with so many other challenges -- navigating a foreign campus, making new friends, balancing classwork and a social life -- that I didn't even have time to realize my identity shift. However, as the dust settled, it became clear to me. As I met my new friends, and began to create a home for myself on this new campus, there was a part of me that felt empty. I had left behind a significant chunk of what made me, me. I had re-established myself here at ISU, but in doing so, forgot to include the most beautiful part.
The more I looked, the more I saw how isolated I was. I was often the only person of color in my classrooms, sticking out immediately. I felt afraid of being too “other-ed”, and in wanting to fit in to my new home, I had assimilated too far. What I could have brought to the table, with my diverse perspectives and unique experiences, I hid, out of shame and fear.
When a rose sits among thorns, it feels threatened, claustrophobic, suffocated. That’s why in a rose bush, the flowers grow at the ends of the stems, so that they can be seen by the world, and be surrounded by other blooming roses, fragrant and beautiful. I realized that I couldn’t thrive and shine to my fullest potential unless I found others who understood the other parts of me, who could relate to the struggles I faced as a minority on a predominantly white campus.
Things began to change when I met another Indian in my dorm building. It was a simple connection, but I found solace in being able to talk to her about the little things, like how much we missed homemade daal rice, and the bigger things, like how alone we felt in our classes. We eventually started a club on campus, South Asian Student Alliance, that allowed us to create a community, however small, of people who are bound together by the same sentiments of a loss of culture and a yearning for belonging.
Our culture doesn’t make us weird, different, alien, or different; it makes us, us. Unique individuals with a rich background that allows us to see the world from a different lens, to experience its beauty with a renewed outlook. It’s not something to hide, but to display proudly, rising out into the light for everyone to see and admire.
- Anushree Rayarikar
