Global Voices Podcast

‘I talk to them at a… person-to-person level’ Originally published on Global Voices Image made on Canva Pro by Ameya Nagarajan for Global Voices “Where Are You REALLY From?” is a podcast series from Global Voices that emerged from a panel at the December 2024 Global Voices summit in Nepal, where members of the Global Voices community shared their experiences of dealing with other people's perceptions about their diverse and complex origin stories. In each episode, we invite our guests to reflect on the assumptions that lie behind the question, “But where are you really from?” and how they respond. The podcast is hosted by Akwe Amosu, who works in the human rights sector after an earlier career in journalism and is also a coach and a poet. The transcript of this episode has been edited for clarity. Akwe Amosu (AA): Hello, and welcome to Where Are You Really From? A podcast that explores identities. I'm Akwe Amosu, and today I'm speaking to Emma Lewis. Welcome, Emma. Emma Lewis (EL): Thank you very much. Nice to be here. AA: Emma, why do people ask you that question? EL: It depends where I am, of course. People ask me that question because they hear my voice and they connect that question with my accent. And in Jamaica, where I live, I sound very, very British. So people, tease me about my Britishness and all that. Although, I have lived here for 38 years. And when I tell them that, there's sort of a different reaction. They say something like, “Oh, well, you're Jamaican then.” That's a common reaction I get. So I think people ask me because they're a little confused. They get the feeling that I live here, sort of long-term. But, I'm not Jamaican. I have this sort of aura of Britishness around me still, I suppose. AA: You seem local, but you don't sound it. EL: Right. That's it. AA: What does it feel like to be asked this question? How do you feel about people wanting to understand that? EL: I think I understand sometimes there's this question, “Where are you from?” And sometimes people just ask it because they genuinely don't know, or it's just something to say. I don't feel I don't feel any way about it. I don't mind, in other words. It doesn't bother me because it's a way of getting to know people. Although, oddly, I very rarely ask that question of other people. I just don't ask that question myself. I don't think it matters. AA: I want to know more about that, but before I ask you about that, I'd love to know what your preferred answer would be. Like if somebody says, “Where are you from?” Or “Where are you really from? You don't sound Jamaican.” What do you want to tell them? EL: I want to tell them where I was born, which was in London, UK. And then I tell them, well, I've been living here for… It's close to forty years now. And so I am both British and Jamaican in many ways. So I tell them that, and they understand because maybe our island is peculiar, but with the migration to and from the island, there's a lot of people who can say that they've got one foot in one country and another foot in another, or they've got family over there and some over here and so on. So it's not a difficult concept for people to grasp. AA: What do you think is going on in the minds of somebody who wants to ask it? What's behind the question? EL: I think, as I said, it's a way of getting to know you. And I think it's also… It depends on the context, but I think it's also a way of sort of placing you so that they can sort of continue with a conversation at a certain level, if you know what I mean. So sometimes it's not just chit chat. I feel it's for a particular purpose. AA: And are you completely comfortable with that? I mean, do you feel fine about them just inquiring until they've got you located? EL: Yeah, I don't mind really. I must say, because it happens so often, that I'm used to it. At first, it was kind of disconcerting because people thought I was a tourist. And if I go to a tourist resort, obviously, I look like a tourist to everyone, so that's a different story. And that is very strange and uncomfortable sometimes. Emma by the sea at Black River. Photo by Neville Lewis. Used with permission. AA: So coming back to that point that you made about not asking that question yourself, why do you think that is? EL: Because I feel it doesn't necessarily make the person who they are. I mean, it's a part of who they are, but it's not perhaps always the most important part. And I also want to know about them at a different level. So I try to find out more about them in terms of who they are. Because I think that I talk to them… I don't like to ask that question because I talk to them at a person-to-person level, not an English person to a Jamaican person or an English person to an American person. I talk to them, if that makes sense, at a human-to-human level. AA: Yes, it does make perfect sense. I'm curious though, when you want to know something about the people that you meet and you want to learn more, what's the right, for you, what's the right way to ask that question? EL: Oh, to ask something related to their experience. For example, I might say, “So you lived in Rome for a while” or something, because it would come up in a conversation rather than upfront, “Where are you from?” And again, I feel that people might be just a little uncomfortable with being asked that question straight up. So if it comes up in the conversation and the experiences and so on of our own experiences, each of us, then I try to weave it in and find out more about them that way. AA: So, it's more about what they do and less about where they come from. EL: Yes, yes, exactly. And where they are now. I mean, they might be here in Jamaica, and I would prefer to hear about what they're doing here and now rather than going back to, “Oh, well, my grandmother was English,” or that kind of thing. And so that's the way I approach it. AA: Is there anything you'd like to add about this whole identity issue? EL: Yes. I mean, identity to me is partly about place. Well, my husband and I had an interesting experience last year when we visited the UK and we went for quite a long time. My husband was born here in Jamaica, but we grew up in England. He grew up in England, and so did I. And it was quite interesting because I felt that, oddly, I felt that I wasn't, I didn't feel very English when I was over there. I didn't feel so British as I did when I was over here. And in fact, one person said to me, “Oh, are you Australian?” And I said, no. And again, they were trying to figure out my accent, which people over here think is very British. But when you go over there, they pick up something. AA: You can hear something different. EL: Yeah. So it was quite strange. And we began to realize then that our heart, well, identity is sort of where your heart is. And my heart is in Jamaica. I've lived here for so long in the same place. And it's comfort. It's total comfort. But the other part of me is still British. And when I go over there, I pick up all these little cultural things, and I feel really happy. I wrote in my piece that there are two parts, your heart has two chambers, and, for me, my heart is half in England and half in Jamaica, and it probably always will be, wherever I live, it will be the same, I think. That's just it. AA: Thank you, Emma. EL: You're welcome. Listen to other episodes here: Where Are You REALLY From? Written by Akwe Amosu, Emma Lewis

When you are stateless, the question of ‘where you are from’ takes on a whole new meaning Originally published on Global Voices Image made on Canva Pro by Ameya Nagarajan for Global Voices “Where Are You REALLY From?” is a podcast series from Global Voices that emerged from a panel at the December 2024 Global Voices summit in Nepal, where members of the Global Voices community shared their experiences of dealing with other people's perceptions about their diverse and complex origin stories. In each episode, we invite our guests to reflect on the assumptions that lie behind the question, “But where are you really from?” and how they respond. The podcast is hosted by Akwe Amosu, who works in the human rights sector after an earlier career in journalism and is also a coach and a poet. She is a co-chair of the Global Voices board. She's in conversation with Sihle Nxumalo, a former stateless person who is now part of the leadership of the Global Movement against Statelessness. The transcript of this episode has been edited for clarity. Akwe Amosu (AA): Hello and welcome to Where Are You Really From? A podcast that explores identities. I'm Akwe Amosu, and today I'm speaking to Sihle Nxumalo. Excuse me for mispronouncing your name, Sihle. Sihle Nxumalo (SN): You pronounced it correctly. AA: Thank you. SN: Thank you for having me. Thank you for that kindness. AA: So, Sihle, why do people ask you this question? Where are you really from? SN: It's because I was born in Durban, South Africa, and I was given away to foster care in a different province, the Limpopo province in South Africa. And growing up, I couldn't really speak the local language that well. And so people were curious as to why I could not speak the local language that well. And so they would want to know where I'm from, where I live. But then they'll be like, no, where are you really from? Because you don't speak the language, so you can't be really from here. And so that's why people would normally ask that question. AA: What would that feel like for you? SN: A bit strange — people wanting to know where I'm really from and not wanting to know where I am. And so, yeah, it felt quite strange people wanting to know where am I really, really from. AA: And then how did you react? Like, what did you say? SN: I would usually tell them where I was born, and they would understand why I couldn't really speak the language because I was born in a different province. And so, yeah, people would understand owing to that, yes. AA: So do you think it's just neutral curiosity, they just wanted to know a bit more about you, or was there something else behind the question SN: I think it was more out of curiosity — wanting to know where this person really is from, because he doesn't seem to be a local person. Where were you born? You know, where are your parents from? And so I think it was mostly out of curiosity. AA: And for you, does that end the question? Once you've answered the question, they know what they want to know, and you've said what you need to say, and everything's fine? Or does it leave some kind of feeling behind afterwards, of maybe I don't really belong here, or? SN: Maybe I wish I'd said something different. I'm just curious about what it leaves behind when you get asked this question. Yeah, you would get that feeling as if I don't really believe this, or I'm not a part of the community. It makes me feel different from other people. And the most interesting thing is that in my late teens, I went back to the province where I was born and found my biological mother. And so when I moved in with my biological mother, people from my hometown would ask me the exact same question because now I can't speak the local language that well. So they will be like, “Are you really from Limpopo?” Like “No I was born here. I'm from here.” And it will be difficult for them to understand or to believe that because my accent is different. I can't speak the local language that well. And so that was very interesting, that I would get the question from both sides. And so even in my hometown, I felt like an outsider because people would want to know, “Where are you really from?” And I'm from there,e and people found it hard to believe because of my accent. And so, yeah, it would leave me feeling like an outsider, feeling like I don't really belong. Yeah, that's what I would get. AA: And I guess, yeah, you're caught between two schools. You can't belong in any one of those two places. SN: Exactly, exactly. I felt like an outsider, a foreigner, even in my hometown. So it was quite strange. AA: Why do you think it matters so much to people to know this about you? SN: I don't know why it matters so much where I'm from. I guess people just want to understand you better, maybe, or want to have reasons. They need answers or reasons as to why you don't have the local accent. Why can't you speak the language. And so people just want to answer the questions that they have running in their minds. And so they want to satisfy the questions that they have in their minds. Yeah, I guess just to satisfy themselves basically. Sihle Nxumalo. Used with permission. AA: So you're back with your mom at that time, and you're living in a community that really ought to have felt like yours, but people weren't sure that you were really a member. What were the consequences of not really belonging there in their minds? SN: I think people tend to mistrust people that are not like them. And so I feel like there was a bit of a mistrust of who I am. What are my intentions here? Why am I different from them? Why am I not like them? So I think it's their own personal issue that they have. They don't feel comfortable with outsiders and people that don't look or speak like them. There's a mistrust there as to whether he's not one of us, he may not be united with us, or in solidarity with us. And so there's a bit of a mistrust there. AA: So I'm curious about what you would like to say about yourself if the conditions are right, if you're not worried about the consequences, what do you feel you are? SN: I feel I am a South African. What language I speak and where I grew up doesn't really matter and shouldn't really matter, as long as I am doing the right thing and doing the best that I can to serve the community, to unite with the people, to make friends. And so, where I am really from doesn't really matter. It's just what type of person I am. And people can judge me on my character rather than where I come from, where I grew up, or what language I speak. But my character should speak for itself. AA: And how soon in your life did you come to that conclusion? I mean, it's one thing to be an adult, confident that you can hold your head up. But I think when you're young and not quite so secure, it's a bit more scary to take that view or not. I don't know. What was it like for you trying to assert that as a young person? SN: As a young person, I tried to keep my friends or acquaintances very small. There were a few people who trusted me, who would do things with me. And so I didn't really navigate it as a child. I think I stayed away from that as a child and tend to keep a small circle of friends that understood me better and wouldn't have all these questions running in their minds. And so I tried to avoid putting myself out there. AA: And do you think that the adults around you knew or understood that this was what was going on in your mind? SN: I don't think so. I don't think they had a clue what was happening because I also wouldn't voice my feelings that much. I would just keep it to myself. Maybe I'd confide in a friend, but I would avoid it most of the time. I wouldn't speak out about it. I wouldn't let the adults know how I was feeling. And so it was just a personal thing that I had going on in my mind. AA: How do you think you have managed to survive that sense of insecurity and lack of safety to come to a place where you can now proudly say, I'm South African, it's who I am, not where I come from that matters? SN: You know, at the time when I was fighting for my South African citizenship, that's when I became emboldened. That's when I became more aware of who I am, and I became not afraid of voicing myself and letting people know who exactly I am. And whether they accepted it or not, it didn't matter to me because I knew the truth. I wasn't afraid of people asking me that question. I just stood on my character and what I knew to be the truth. AA: And why did you have to fight for your citizenship? SN: Because I grew up in foster care. I had no birth certificate or anything. And the foster care that I grew up in also didn't help me get a birth certificate at my young age. I didn't even know that I was stateless until almost the end of school. That's when I realized that, hey, I don't have a birth certificate. I cannot get an identity card. And so I have to go out there and try to find my biological parent in order for me to try to get my citizenship. And so, I had to make the bold step of moving from one province as a young teenager to another one in Durban, where I had to go and look for my biological mother, and I found her. And then from there, I also got some answers about who I really am, where I was born, and who my parents are. My mother uses a different surname from me. I didn't even know that. And I got to understand myself and where I come from much better. AA: So we started this conversation just focusing on where in South Africa you came from. and the questions people asked you about that. But now I'm understanding how much broader and deeper this question is. It's not just about what region or city you come from. It's just having an identity from scratch with the state. That's a big deal for a young person to have to deal with. SN: Yes. It was very frustrating because the home affairs department wasn't of much help to me — especially because my mother died a few months after I found her. So I was left to fight the citizenship battle on my own. Without an elder or a parent with you, it becomes more difficult because the department won't listen to what you have to say. They want a parent or an elder there that can vouch for you. I didn't have anybody, having grown up in foster care. I had no family, I didn't know anybody, and so it was a battle that I had to fight alone, basically. That was a very difficult period of my life. It was very exhausting. It made me question a lot about who I am and why I am here. It even brought me, at times, to have suicidal thoughts. And so it was a very, very difficult period in my life. But I was very resilient. I soldiered on. And in the end, I achieved what I set out to achieve. And today I have my South African citizenship. And I'm proud of my resilience and my hard work that I put in, the suffering that I had to go through — being told that I don't even exist. The department told me, “ To us, basically, you don't even exist.” And I would ask the question, “What do you mean I don't exist? I'm standing right in front of you. You can see me. What do you mean I don't exist?” And that was very hurtful and painful. But in the end, it all paid off. And today, I am a proper South African citizen with documents. So I'm proud of what I was able to achieve. AA: It is truly an impressive struggle. And I really salute that you've been able to fight through and reach this point. Thank you so much. I think there are going to be many people who are given some courage listening to you, knowing that they face problems, but that it's possible to prevail. Thank you so much. SN: I really appreciate the opportunity. Listen to other episodes here: Where Are You REALLY From? Written by Akwe Amosu

‘We need to collectively come up with diverse ways to ask about people…’ Originally published on Global Voices Image made on Canva Pro by Ameya Nagarajan for Global Voices “Where Are You REALLY From?” is a podcast series from Global Voices that emerged from a panel at the December 2024 Global Voices summit in Nepal, where members of the Global Voices community shared their experiences of dealing with other people's perceptions about their diverse and complex origin stories. In each episode, we invite our guests to reflect on the assumptions that lie behind the question, “But where are you really from?” and how they respond. The podcast is hosted by Akwe Amosu, who works in the human rights sector after an earlier career in journalism and is also a coach and a poet. She is a co-chair of the Global Voices board. The transcript of this episode has been edited for clarity. Akwe Amosu (AA): Hello and welcome to “Where Are You Really From?” a podcast that explores identities. I'm Akwe Amosu, and today I'm speaking to Ameya Nagarajan. Hi, Ameya. Ameya Nagarajan (AN): Hi, Akwe. AA: So why do people ask you that question? AN: It's a little complicated. I'm from India, and in India, internally, we have a very large number of identities, languages, contexts, and cultures. And so you generally ask this question to be like, “Hey, are you from my home state?” “Did we grow up in the same big city?” Because there are many big cities. “Did we have friends who went to college together?” So it's usually just a question of trying to get a sense of a way to connect with a new person. But I get asked that question because I don't fit very well into what is expected of me, perhaps in Indian society, because I take up space quite literally, and people are not used to the idea of a fat woman who's not trying to be invisible. But also in general, I'm a bit weird for an Indian. I don't obviously exhibit any Indian-ness. So people often wonder if I am even Indian. AA: So what does it feel like to be asked the question then? AN: It's a bit mixed because, like I said, it's quite benign generally. So I'm used to hearing it. And I don't see it as a bad thing. Even I ask people that, you know, “Where are you from?” or “Where did you grow up?” So we can try and see if we are from the same background in that sense, you know, the same city or whatever. But I realize that on some level, when I get asked that a little more suspiciously, “Are you an Anglo-Indian?” which is code for, you know, not a normal Indian, which is crazy because Anglo-Indians are as Indian as everyone else. But it's that sort of hint of, “yeah, but you're a bit weird. You're a bit strange. You're a bit alien.” And I would say that I never thought it really affected me until we started having these conversations. And that's when I started to realize that, actually, on some level, it made me feel quite terrible and quite alienated. And my own country kind of did not have a space for me, which was not fun. AA: So, how do you usually answer? AN: I say I'm Tamil and I grew up in Hyderabad, which indicates two aspects of my life. One is my sort of ethnic, linguistic identity, which is from the southern state of Tamil Nadu, where I did not grow up. I grew up in another state where the local languages are Dakhni and Telugu. And so it's a bit like telling people that, “Oh yeah, so this is my family context, but I am not in that context, I'm from a different context.” I used to say that because I didn't like the city I grew up in, and I didn't want people to think I was from there, which is a little mean, perhaps in hindsight. Ameya laughing at her friend's cat. Photo by Meenakshi Reddy Madhavan, used with permission. AA: What would you like to be able to say in the answer to this question? I mean, when the conditions are right. AN: I feel like it's hard to figure that out because, you know, again, inside the country, the context is just say where I'm from and have it taken like normally. But also when I'm outside the country, I often get mistaken for Latina, which is really not something that I think of as a bad thing, honestly, because I believe I have the soul of a Latina. And so I have to say that actually, I think I'm one of the people on this series who has a different experience of it in that I don't know that there's necessarily like a right answer or a better answer that I want to give because it's not so much that I feel, I don't, I think it's because I feel like it makes me feel alienated in my own space. And when I'm not in my own space or my own country, then it's not a problem because people think I'm Latina when I say “haha no I'm Indian” they're like “oh you're Indian” and it's not something that gets questioned very much so it's perhaps less painful in some ways. As for when I'm in India, and people ask me about my belongingness, as it were, I don't actually know what I could say that would be simple. It would be nice to be able to have more nuanced conversations about what makes us who we are and so on and so forth, but that's not always possible. AA: So that's what I was wondering was, it's one thing not to know what you would want to say, but what would you like them to ask that wouldn't make you feel as though you didn't have the right answer, or didn't have the answer that they would like to hear? AN: Maybe something like, you know, “What was it like growing up speaking a different language outside the home than you do inside the home?” Or “Did you ever feel strange that you have such a different experience?” I'm a part of the very tiny minority of Indians for whom English is my first language. which a lot of people get very upset about in India when you say that, because they're like, “No, you must have a mother tongue.” And I'm like, sure, but it's not my first language, which is kind of an important point there. So, yeah, I think it's always nice to be greeted with curiosity, as in “I want to get to know you better. I want to understand you better,” which I think is also something I try to do when I meet a new person. That's why I like to learn languages, because people get so excited when you can say the silliest thing in their own language, like I don't speak your language, and they get so excited. AA: So, is there anything else that you think people should know about this challenge that you've encountered? AN: I think that we need to collectively come up with diverse ways to ask about people and cultivate the ability to accept with grace whatever we're given. Instead of walking into a conversation with a sense of entitlement about the kind of answer you're supposed to get or what you want them to say, how it should look, if it doesn't fit with your picture, you know, to learn to take with grace the answer you get and explore the person fully. Maybe if you want to find out more, you don't have to ask them, “Where are you really from?” But you could say, “Oh, what languages did you speak as a child?” Or “What's your first memory?” Or “What's the first movie you saw?” Or “Where did you go on holiday that you liked?” There are ways to get clues into a person's background that don't involve basically questioning the thing that they've told you. Because when you say, “Where are you really from?” it's kind of saying, “I don't believe you, you're lying to me,” which is a heavy thing to say to a person you just met, right? AA: Thank you, Ameya. AN: Thanks, Akwe. Listen to other episodes here: Where Are You REALLY From? Written by Akwe Amosu, Ameya Nagarajan

“Where Are You Really From?”: A podcast that explores identities Originally published on Global Voices Image made on Canva Pro by Ameya Nagarajan for Global Voices “Where Are You REALLY From?” is a new podcast series from Global Voices that emerged from a panel at the December 2024 Global Voices summit in Nepal, where members of the Global Voices community shared their experiences of dealing with other people's perceptions about their diverse and complex origin stories. In each episode, we invite our guests to reflect on the assumptions that lie behind the question, “But where are you really from?” and how they respond. The podcast is hosted by Akwe Amosu, who works in the human rights sector after an earlier career in journalism and is also a coach and a poet. She is a co-chair of the Global Voices board. The transcript of this episode has been edited for clarity. Akwe Amosu (AA): Hello and welcome to “Where Are You Really From?,” a podcast that investigates identities. I'm Akwe Amosu and today I'm speaking to Lokman Tsui. Welcome, Lokman. Lokman Tsui (LT): Thank you for having me. AA: So why do people ask you that question, Lokman? LT: I think it can be quite complicated to get a sense of where I'm from. I was born and raised in Amsterdam, in the Netherlands. My parents are from Hong Kong, but then for graduate school, I went to the United States and I spent six, seven years there. Then I moved back to Hong Kong, where my parents are originally from, and I worked there for many years until a lot of bad stuff happened in Hong Kong and I ended up back in Holland. When in Holland, when people ask me where you're from, I'm like from here, from Hong Kong, you know, it depends on how you define where you're from and what home is. So that's one question I don't even know how to answer myself. Most of the time, it really depends on who the other person is, I think, and also I think there are many reasons why people ask that question sometimes. AA: So maybe before we go there, let's just see what does it bring up in you? Like what kind of feelings do you have when you get asked the question? LT: Most of the time it's annoyance I think if I'm honest. There are rare occasions where I feel like, okay, this is a person that's really interested and wants to know more about me. To be fair, I think most people really want to understand something they don't understand, and they want to know more about you, but what annoys me, I think, most of the time is that they try to sort of reduce you or simplify you. And I don't know how to answer that question in one word, two words, three words, right? And then, in my experience generally, if I don't give them the answer they expect, they just get more confused, and then again, they get annoyed, and then I get annoyed, and then… And so it's complicated. For them it's a very easy question, but there's no easy answer. AA: That's interesting that for them it's an easy question. What's the difference between their view? Why do they think it's an easy question and you don't find it so? What makes you uncomfortable? LT: Because they want to know one answer. It's like a multiple-choice question where you can only have one. We can have one answer, and in my case, it's like, you know, A, B, C, D apply right? And there's not just one, and so when they just want one answer, when you don't give them just one answer. They get annoyed, I think. Lokman Tsui. Photo used with permission. AA: So, what do you usually start with? If there are a number of different questions, how do you usually dive in? LT: I read the situation most of the time. And so it depends on where I am, what language I'm speaking, who I'm speaking to, and I'm trying to guess what they want to know. And usually, what the answer is that gets me off the easiest, basically, where I give them something they're happy with, and then I don't have to answer that question anymore. But sometimes it can get a little bit confusing. There was this one time I was in Spain with my girlfriend, and we [were at] a tapas restaurant. But the person serving us was Chinese-looking. And then this person asked us, “Where are you from?” And I'm like, okay. So if you say from Holland, it makes sense because Dutch people go to Spain for tourism. And it actually doesn't make sense if you say from Hong Kong, because it was like a beach place, and if you want to go to a beach and you're from Hong Kong, you go to Thailand or Southeast Asia and not to Spain. But I'm looking at this guy and I'm thinking, you know, he basically wants to know because he sees me looking Chinese. And so he just wants to know, like, can I speak Chinese? Are you one of us? And so then I said — AA: Did you answer in Dutch? LT: No, this is in… I even forgot what language this was in. But it had to be either English or Chinese. But I said, I'm from Hong Kong. AA: What I can hear is that it's complicated for you to define a place, a single place of origin, a simple answer. But what would you like to be able to say about your identity if it didn't require this geographic frame? What would be your preferred question? LT: I would tell them I have lived in a couple of places. I grew up in Amsterdam, but I've lived part of my life on the East Coast in the United States, and I spent many years in Hong Kong. But I consider my birth home to be my biological home to be the Netherlands, because that's where I was born. But my chosen home in many ways used to be Hong Kong for many years until I could no longer be there. So now I'm back in the Netherlands — but I'd much rather be in Hong Kong if the situation was better there. But also, some people try to figure out your loyalty, you know, it's not just identity. So that sometimes, it gets really complicated, also with sort of Chinese-ness, you know, because the Chinese have weird ideas about ethnicity and blood, and loyalty, and so on. And so, sometimes people ask me, “Do you feel you're Chinese?” And then they answer the question for me most of the time, because I don't even get to have a say in that. They would be like, “Oh, you know, to me, you're Chinese, you know, you have Chinese blood.” And I'm like, “Okay, if you say so.” So there are different things people are trying to figure out, you know, like, I speak languages with an accent, and so they're trying to figure out what's going on here, but then they also try to figure out your loyalties, you know, in many ways. There's just different kinds of things I think going on. AA: And is there anything else you want to say about this question? LT: Let's please stop asking this question question. We can start by asking, “Where are you based?” You know, that's usually how I do it. I don't ask people, “Where are you from?” I'm asking, “Where are you based right now?” And then, I usually just sort of, if I really want to get to know someone better than I ask them, “Hey, tell me your story,” you know, “Tell me more about yourself,” and then leave it open-ended as opposed to trying to put people in a frame that might be very uncomfortable for some. AA: Thank you, Lokman. LT: You're welcome. Listen to other episodes here: Where Are You REALLY From? Written by Akwe Amosu, Lokman Tsui

“Where Are You Really From?”: A podcast that explores identities Originally published on Global Voices Image made by Ameya Nagarajan for Global Voices on Canva Pro. “Where Are You REALLY From?” is a new podcast series from Global Voices that emerged from a panel at the December 2024 Global Voices summit in Nepal, where members of the Global Voices community shared their experiences of dealing with other people's perceptions about their diverse and complex origin stories. In each episode, we invite our guests to reflect on the assumptions that lie behind the question, “But where are you really from?” and how they respond. The podcast is hosted by Akwe Amosu, who works in the human rights sector after an earlier career in journalism and is also a coach and a poet. She is a co-chair of the Global Voices board. The transcript of this episode has been edited for clarity. Akwe Amosu (AA): Hello and welcome to Where Are You Really From? It's a podcast that investigates identities. And this time I'm talking to Daria Dergacheva. Welcome, Daria. Daria Dergacheva (DD): Thanks for having me. AA: So why do people ask you that question, Daria? DD: Well, I guess that's because I often ask this question myself now, too. I was born in the Soviet Union, and the Russian authorities insist that in my passport it says that it's the Soviet Union. I had to change my passport recently because it said “Russia,” and it was obviously a mistake. So now I'm basically formally from the Soviet Union, which doesn't exist anymore. Then I was living in many countries throughout my life, studying, [and] traveling. I lived in the UK for a year. I received the Chevening Scholarship there. I lived in Warsaw, also for studies. I lived in Thailand for a while. And since 2017, I don't live in Russia anymore. And since 2022, I don't travel there. So, I live in Spain. I received my PhD here with my family and with my kids. My kids speak four languages. My youngest one only speaks to me in English, somehow. I don't know why. This is her language of communication with me, although we do speak Russian at home. But they also speak Catalan, Spanish, English, and Russian. We lived in Germany for a while, and I still live and work in Germany. I work at the University of Bremen, and when I go to conferences, which are never connected to anything Russian, because I work in a platform governance lab, it's mostly European Union issues. What I say when people ask, “Where are you from?” I think this question is very difficult. Like, where are you from now? Where are you from? Where were you born? What country do you associate yourself with? Sometimes I feel I don't have [a place] where I'm from. I have multiple [places] where I'm from, but it gets a bit difficult to explain. AA: So, what do you usually say when you get asked the question? Does it vary, or do you have a standard answer that you can just roll out? DD: I totally don't have a standard answer, especially after the full invasion of Ukraine started in 2022. I was obviously very anti-war, but for a while, it was just impossible to say you were from Russia. I was really scared. I was scared, and I was ashamed, and I didn't want to do it. So, for a while, I was saying, “I'm from the University of Bremen” when asked about work. Then, after about a year, I could manage to say I'm from Russia with a lot of explanations following immediately, you know? So it's not like one sentence; you have to say, “I am for Ukraine. I am anti-war.” It's difficult, but now it's even more difficult because I don't plan to go back, or at least if I can stay, I don't plan to go back, because I don't see things going, unfortunately, in any good direction there at all. But my parents are there. I can't visit them at the moment. I don't know if I'll be able to see them before they basically die because they are older. I know some of my friends from, for example, Belarus had to watch their father's funeral via Zoom. This is, I mean, we are all living in a totally different reality, and [having] very heartbreaking experiences. I know Ukrainians have suffered much more, much more, than Russians. We cannot even complain or compare. But this is my situation now, me, as a human being, you know, it doesn't matter — Russian or not. AA: I completely understand the complexity of, you know, providing a satisfying external answer. But when you think about yourself, your own sort of integral identity, is there something sort of deeply Russian in you? Like I noticed that you speak Russian at home. Is that an identity, even if it's one that doesn't work for the outside world? DD: I mean, of course. Of course, it is an identity. I have a Soviet identity as well. I don't know if I'm happy about it because there's so much violence, you know, school-level violence, hospital-level violence, family violence. Because the society is like that, the Russian society is still like that. So, you know, the kids grow up in this environment. But, since the invasion started, I decided I don't want my kids to have a Russian identity. I cannot get rid of mine, and I read too much. I want to know what's going on in the country. I didn't insist on them reading in Russian. So my elder girl, she reads in Russian and writes in Russian. She doesn't like to, but she can. But the younger one, she doesn't really write in Russian. I mean, for other languages, yes. But Russian, no. She didn't want to, and I didn't want to push because I felt I didn't want them to be Russian. I didn't want them to have this identity. I wanted them to be free from that, you know, from that kind of curse, actually. And they can't see their grandma and grandpa, so there's no real communication of passing things down, you know, the values, the fairytales, anything. It didn't work for us online. It did for a while, but then it gets boring, and then you don't get to see them. So for me, it's not such a problem. It's fine for me if they feel themselves Spanish. I don't know. They can, if they want, if society accepts them. And society here seems to be pretty flexible. I like that. AA: Do you feel imposed upon by other people when they want you to define yourself? Do you feel resentful about being asked to give them a satisfying answer, or is it just that it's too complicated to explain? DD: Resentful? No, but I don't like this question because it usually entails explanations. Just to give you an example, [I was] with a friend from Argentina recently. We were visiting the Netherlands, and we were asked, “Where are you from?” It was a boat full of Americans, just for the context. And he said, “Well, I'm from Argentina, but we both live in Barcelona.” And I wanted to say I'm from Barcelona, but technically, it's not really true. So I was like, “I'm from Russia.” And it just sounded so… But I had to explain more, but I didn't want to. I mean, I didn't really know these people. But, the situation is like that right now. I'm not complaining. It's not something to complain about. It's just that I feel I don't want to answer this question, I think. AA: If you could choose what question you were asked by people who would like to know more about you, what would it be? DD: Well, I think that maybe rather than where you're from, there can be several questions. “Where were you born?” is one, and then “Where do you work?” or live is totally another, at least for me. You know, what do you feel you are also? Like, I once told my professor I didn't feel European. It was four years ago. And he was really, it was strange for him, because for all his life he's German. But it was weird for him because his whole life he felt European. I had been in Europe for seven years at that time already, but I didn't feel European. I don't even have citizenship. I don't even have long-term residence because it's so hard now. And I don't have any rights that people here — I have many rights, but I actually can be kicked out of the country under basically any pretense. Right now, my younger daughter still doesn't have her residence, because — I don't know why. They refused to give her a residence card, although, like, she should be with me, she's 10, and the lawyers had to appeal, and appeals last six months at least, and we still don't know. So this is so ridiculous. And this is my life since 2017. Again, I'm not complaining; they have been really good to me. Europe has been really good to me, and I know I'm an expert in many topics like tech policies here, media, and social media. And I'm very grateful to the universities that I work in for that. And I could have been really, really helpful for, for example, the European Commission. But I can't work there because I'm not a citizen. And for every job, for each residence, I have to have a contract. So I can't even just look for work, you know, except for in academia. In academia, it's just a bit easier. So it feels temporary. Everything feels temporary. AA: So, everything feels temporary in a way. You're not permanently attached to any state except one that you don't feel identified with. DD: Yes. It doesn't feel temporary. It feels precarious. It feels like any minute I would have to move for a job or for residence, or for other things. Any minute. Next month. And it is difficult. And there is no place I can go back to. I cannot go back to my parents because I might be arrested, actually, because I work also as an editor for Global Voices, working with Russia, Belarus, and Moldova, sometimes Ukraine. And obviously, the articles, many of them are anti-war and anti-Putin, anti-dictatorship, because these are my beliefs as well, and the publication's. But we know what happens to journalists in Russia… AA: Well, Daria, I wish you safety and I wish you a long-term home. Thank you very much. DD: Thank you so much. That's a very nice wish. Thank you. Listen to other episodes here: Where Are You REALLY From? Written by Akwe Amosu, Daria Dergacheva