Breaking Barriers, Part 1

Before I begin this script, there are few words I need to highlight for an improved understanding of my intent with my personal expression.

Desi - a word usually applied to people “from the land.” Most often used to describe the Southeastern Asians, those people who are of Bangladeshi, Pakistani & Indian ancestry.

Haram - a word used to describe something that is forbidden by the law of Islam.

In a Desi household it is a big deal when a young woman decides to move out before getting married and without any parental consent. Leaving the home without an arranged marriage or even parental permission of sorts is considered to be Haram and as such, one of the strongest signs of taboo or rebellion under the Islamic faith.

As a result of the young woman fleeing the home under the conditions mentioned, everyone in their immediate social group would look down upon that said family as having failed to keep the daughter under tight control. As for the girl, she is then viewed as immodest, shameless, and inconsiderate and the list goes on.

By disobeying her parents and family she has now brought great shame upon the family. Public embarrassment of all levels may include ostracizing, personal attacks, and even as much as acts of “Honor Killing” may ensue. The lighter side of punishment for the girl is that she usually will lose her place of existence within her family, society and culture via ex-communication. End result, she will be the talk of the town big or small.

The life I lived approximately 7800 miles away, in a village, took a turn when I first landed in JFK airport. New language, new school, weather, clothing and people came at me from all directions. Each day became a journey of new discovery for me hoping the old ways of my land would not follow me here.

Surprisingly, after living here in New York City and having left behind that small village I never imagined the skyscrapers and sophisticated crowds would allow the old ways to affect me as such. Seven years ago I decided to be one of those girls who left behind the oppressive and antiquated ways of my family and Bangladeshi culture behind to pursue my dreams and wishes.

While doing so I was determined to “break the barriers” that were forced upon me through generations of female oppression. As I continue to blog on my site you will get to know me and eventually catch up to all the reasons which led me to leave my parents home here in NYC. To date, leaving them has definitely been one of the hardest decisions of my life.

When I left home as I had predicted, my departure affected my family negatively. Immediate family and neighbors here in NYC began waves of gossip and talked about me negatively non-stop. Some pivotal relatives who assisted in our emigration to the US gave my parents and siblings the cold shoulder. This I am certain occurred because having been sponsored by my immediate family to emigrate gave them a sense of entitled critical superiority.

My parents and siblings would often feel embarrassed and hurt when people asked about me at the market or gatherings. After a while they just got tired of the persistent public questions so their story became one of telling people that I had gone away to college and it is why I moved out.

Ironically, this story specifically mimics dozens of Bollywood movie scripts to a Tee. The worldwide sentiment and belief of Desi families is always, “what will people say?” Shame and ridicule always being the strongest ostracizing element in our basic lifestyle.

All along I knew it wouldn’t be long for the news to travel back home to Bangladesh since my folks back there are so good at gossiping and tracking young females whereabouts throughout the world. The quest to ensure that proper marriage arrangements are carried out is a priority to their existence in upholding family status. Somehow religion and cultural beliefs have intertwined thus the endless trail female oppression continues. It is mostly the men then subservient females who forcefully inculcate extreme beliefs into Islamic faith and then somehow accepting this thinking is actually ok.

This is where things get more complicated. People back home are ten times more toxic with their words and backward thinking than they actually realize. They are relentless to find information about other families, particularly their daughter’s choices in life. I sometimes say to my few friends that if gossiping & criticizing were a sport the people in Bangladesh would be in first place in the world. It is as if they are armed with verbal machine guns and their words are shooting bullets.

In the Bangladeshi school system I was in high school before leaving the country. All my classmates, people from the school and neighborhood knew that we migrated to New York. I didn’t have much communication with people back home and I didn’t even have a cell phone and wasn’t allowed to even talk on the phone. People in the village barely had Internet access back then. Overtime, people back home gained Internet access more easily and this somehow spiced up our existence here in Brooklyn. We all know having access to Internet means easy access to social media (and porn).

Eventually people from the village and my former Bengali school caught up with me on Facebook. Yes Facebook! They went through all my post and images and talked freely about how immodest I have become in my new world. They then began to heavily scrutinize all my images and chosen modeling career. I know most of you readers will disregard this as a mere magnification of what I feel and how insignificant it really is but...it is a huge deal in the Desi world. A world depicted with lots of happy wedding dances, celebration, glorious food and total elation but in reality it is just the opposite. There is much sadness, inequality, lack of choices and most importantly, the sense that as a young woman, one feels like a piece of property or cattle. Being traded over a bartered agreement between families in exchange for money, jewelry and ultimately social status.

A few months back my parents decided it was time for another visit to Bangladesh. Things were a little bit different this time since now people had learned about my lifestyle and modeling career aspirations here in NYC. People were aggressively prying and trolling to know more details about my life from my parents. That evil monster of “embarrassment” was reawakened once again. It was as if the townspeople had suddenly arrived to NYC, reloaded their guns and began shooting again. At the same time I was receiving endless hate messages from people which included calling me a “shameless whore.”

My Facebook account has always been kept private. Then as I began my modeling career I had to showcase my work and make my life more public. I tried to take precautions by blocking my family members and relatives first and then local Desi people that I knew here. I did all of that to avoid my family/relatives from discovering my modeling career and whereabouts.

I left my household to enable me making my own choices in life because if I had stayed, my dreams of becoming the woman I am today certainly would have been prevented. I now also realize that I can’t live my life fearing what people will say or think about my family and myself. As time passes I have learned that I am giving these ignorant people the power to control my life by fearing their words and thoughts. The only way to defeat them is by disarming them. Self-empowerment started from not fearing them but instead, by ignoring their words and comments.

Today, I accept myself directly related as I have chosen to live. I fully accept and understand the woman I have become. I accept the choices I made in my life. I left my parents house against their will just so that I can make my own choices. That is what I am doing. I am not afraid nor am I ashamed of it.

If only my family knew that acceptance was the key to disarming a group of ignorant people they would have avoided a lot of heartaches, tears and embarrassment.