‘Where are you from?’ | Every immigrant's nightmare question
‘Where are you from?’ | Every immigrant's nightmare question
This question fosters stereotyping, and reduces people's complexity, even when it’s well-intended. I thought of an alternative.
‘You don’t look Romanian.’
Her raised eyebrows and enlarged brown eyes strived to assure me that was a positive statement. My first thought, which I didn’t say out loud was, how does a Romanin look like to you? Immediately, I understood what she was referring to. I didn’t look like the Roma migrants she saw on TV, traveling throughout Europe and settling on the outskirts of Paris or Rome. I didn’t have dark skin like they had, a testament to their Indian roots. I didn’t wear either long, colorful skirts, or waist-long hair braided with golden coins in it, like many Roma women do.
She didn’t mean to offend me, but I felt reduced to her ignorant view of the Romanian people, sourced from the eight o’clock evening news.
A tricky question to ask
Asking people where they are from, as a first question upon meeting them, reduces them to one dimension. It objectifies them, like piercing a plastic pin into a map above the country they mentioned. We objectify people, we reduce their complexity to one dominant trait, such as the place of birth, in order to comprehend them more easily — or so we think. It’s like a mental shortcut, a prop meant to help place the stranger somewhere, scouring for any fact we know about that particular place. By asking this question, even when it’s well-intended, we stereotype to begin with. And then, at a later stage, if we take the time to discover the person, we might peel the stereotype off of their forehead where we had unconsciously glued it.
You might think you are able to keep an open mind even if you choose to ask this question. How about if you heard the answer: I am from many places. All of a sudden, it’s hard to locate that on the map, right? All of a sudden, reducing the person to one dimension is so much harder to do. If they are from many places, then where do you place them? In which geographical pigeon-hole do you put them?
When I lived in the US, I would get the dreaded question frequently. People had the curiosity of a child who has yet to take their first road trip outside of their hometown. The US being a country of immigrants, locals usually search for similar heritage. Once, when I told my date that I was from Romania, he exclaimed excitedly: I’m from Romania too! Before I could get more surprised, he clarified the story: one of his four grandparents had emigrated to the States 40 years before. People looked for communality, but there was hardly any knowledge about the culture or history of the place. Neither did they have too many encounters with people from Romania. It’s like when a celebrity is asked who she is wearing, and she answers with an unknown brand. The unfamiliar brand name says nothing, it’s just an abstract concept.
Some nationalities have better fame than others, just like it happens with accents in speech. When someone replies: I’m from Paris or I’m from California, you can already hear the adulatory oohs! and aahs! of the audience, displaying envy at the sheer luck of being born in a stereotypically straight-out-of-a-movie place. And other nationalities are located in less fortunate corners, on the grand map of the world of stereotypes.
The real estate agents made me highly aware that my answer to the question ‘Where are you from?’ could make or break the rental deal.
‘Where are you from’ was the first question I received in many job interviews. The first question during every single apartment rental visit. The real estate agents made me highly aware that my answer could make or break the rental deal. It was the first question from taxi drivers after they would hear my accent, in whatever language I was speaking; the first question on a date.
Becoming defensive
It’s usually an innocent icebreaker, a benign curiosity. However, it already implies you are not from here; you are an outsider and you (probably) don’t belong in the predominant community. In 12 years of living in Spain, I have never heard one Spaniard being asked ‘Where are you from’. In this respect, the question is almost a nicer substitute for: I see and hear you are an outsider from your skin color, your visible race, from your accent; help me place you somewhere on the world map. The question is like pulling out a torch during a candlelight dinner among friends and pointing it at the interrogated person.
For a period of time, I caught myself answering I’m from Romania, but…
My response revealed my fatigue of having been stereotyped or discriminated against. It signaled a renewed effort to explain that I was not a two-dimensional object that you can pin on the eastern part of Europe on a map. I’m from Romania, but I’m not like some people you met from there. I’m from Romania, but I’m not a thief or a prostitute. I’m from Romania, but [insert your stereotype here]. This is not a personal complaint; this situation is commonplace among immigrants.
So what is a possible solution?
I recently started answering: I am from many places, as I hinted above. I moved from Romania to the American South in my early 20s, being profoundly shaped by that experience. A few years later, I moved to Germany and learned even more things about myself. And in 12 years in Spain, I have started thinking in a fifth language.
I truly feel my identity contains a bit from each culture where I settled in, created homes, and loved for the past 20 years. These life experiences made me belong to each of these places. Of course, my roots sprung in Romania, roots that have stretched across oceans and have been bathed in the rivers of many towns, roots that have gotten permeated by customs, languages, and the natural landscape. So if where I am from is represented by my roots, currently my roots are imbibed by many places.
Well said, I've had some similar experiences. An interesting and weird thing about Canada, in stark contrast to America, where I immigrated from, almost no one will ever ask you where you're from, ever. Even if you obviously have a strong accent. Multi culturalism and the "multi cultural" idea of Canada is so woven into the fabric of being Canadian now, that even if people are thinking it, or racist etc. in some way, they will never reveal it. On the other hand, most Anglo Canadians especially have a very strong stoic/austere/teutonic/Nordic quality to them, such that, much like your entry about arriving in DE, they will simply never ask or be curious about you if you don't already have an in, period. So in summary, you can look like whatever and be from anywhere..but we won't be curious about you one way or another...but everyone is welcome/accepted!
Haha you write what I forever have issues with. I’m English Irish, which is often not recognised by many despite it being a common mix and is followed with ‘but no, where are you frrrrommmm’. I also get comments from English people like ‘If you’re born in England you’re English’ which should really come with brackets (if you’re white, which you are) because we all know if I was a POC I’d be asked ‘but where are you really frommmmmm’.
Interestingly though in Spain I’ve settled happily being completely different. They don’t often get the English Irish thing but it feels less offensive when they just repeat back one, often the Irish, which I’m happy about. Or don’t actually listen and think I’m French 😆 I own my guiri title much to Spanish people’s amusement. But the staring, that real Spain you asked about, I still struggle with. I feel like walking into a bar and announcing ‘SI, SOY ALTA. TENGO OJOS CLAROS. NO ESTOY DE AQUÍ.’ Just to get it out of the way 🤣 Or maybe just wearing a sign haha.
There’s a great TED talk about this I’ll have to dig out, but the woman who presents it suggests asking ‘Where are you local?’ I liked it! I’m terrible and ask often where people are from, I also ask them what they do which I think is a boring question... But as you said I suppose we’re all just looking for connection!