Nine-thousand, eight hundred, and one miles across the waters of the Atlantic Ocean into the Indian Ocean lies an island, Mauritius, where Port Louis lies on top of sandy terrain. Through the insanity of fate, my soul is connected to a far away paradise that I have never stepped foot on. I grew up in North Carolina, with a strict Mormon white family, and a white-picket fence house. We had a classical American family portrait plastered on the wall in front of the dining table, filled with my aunts, uncles, sixteen cousins, grandparents, and my mom, while me and my sister’s brown complexions stuck out like a sore thumb. My grandparents were always around, along with my mother and sister, so the fact that my father was not present didn’t bother me. It was not that I didn’t notice, but my grandfather played the role of a father figure, so as a child, it felt unreasonable to miss something that was never present in the first place. 

            Around the time I started preschool, my sister and mother would tell me about my Eastern Indian father. My father, Danmansignh, grew up in Mauritius, and immigrated to America to gain more opportunities in his cooking career. Danmansignh’s ancestor’s come mainly from Bangladesh, possibly traveling to Mauritius to work on the sugar cane fields: this is where I get my Southern Indian culture. Mauritius is located to the right of Madagascar, holding people of various culture including Hindi (Indo-Mauritian), Chinese (Sino-Mauritian), French-European (Franco-Mauritian), and Native African (Creole-Mauritian). My sister, Celeste is two years older than me and has been an advocate, support system, and best friend throughout my entire life. Until Celeste entered middle school, we shared a room with bunk beds, and when we were in our early childhood, we fought often. My sister would complain about me using her things or I would be overly dramatic about something she may or may not have done(I never said I wasn’t a troubled child). Some nights, Celeste and I would stay up and talk about traveling to Mauritius to feel the sand between our feet, the sea breeze, experience the multicultural foods and the clear bay, meet our South Asian family, and explore the unique ecosystem. 

         On a day that felt like any other, our home phone rang and my mother answered.

         “It’s your Dad.” she said, handing me the phone with a surprised look on her face.  

I hesitantly took the phone, got out of the bottom of my bunk bed and immediately met my eyes to Celeste’s, her furrowed eyebrows creating wrinkles in the middle of her forehead. I held it up to my ear; this was the first time I would hear his voice. It was brief, and felt like an awkward conversation with a stranger on an elevator. After that, we had brief skype calls to try and attempt to gain a connection, but as days passed, the longer it took him to answer them. Eventually, my feelings of rejection heightened: he was abandoning my sister and I for a second time.  My father had the resources to contact us. He just chose not to, and that burned a bigger hole within our relationship. My sister was skeptical of my father, as she did not expect him to change after fourteen years.

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(Father on the right, mother to the left; godbrother Harry on the bottom right.)

             As I entered school, the way I was treated compared to my white classmates became more apparent. I grew up in a small town, Dobson, with a population of 1,511, where the majority of the community consisted of white individuals with a conservtive perspective. In school, I would have people ask me, 

            “What race are you really?”

            “Where are you from?” while I’d just reply, 

            “Well, here.”

           They’d reply with, “Where did you really come from though?”

            I would have to make a decision within that moment to kindly educate and call them in, or stay silent and let them continue to think these questions were socially acceptable. I always struggled with the perception that due to my mixed race I never completely fit into a community. To my peers, I wasn’t white enough, or I was too Americanized to be Southern Indian. Many different mixed races face these battles of not “fitting in” to the constrictive black and white society that America has created. In an article written by Rahul Yates, titled “Navigating My Mixed-Race South Asian Identity,'' he shares similar battles as a mixed Southern Indian and white individual in American society, and points out that, “the multiracial community is one of the fastest growing populations, it is still vastly underrepresented in the media and school curriculums….mixed-race people like me still struggle in understanding our own identity.” (Yates, 2022)

           Throughout my life, I have had an extremely hard time coming to terms with my identity. Due to the Mormon and American culture implemented so prominently in my early life, I felt a sense of guilt when wanting to research or participate in Indian traditions, as most of them connected to Hinduism. I had the desire to wear Indian clothing, yet it was “immodest” in Mormon religious beliefs, along with the fact that me and Celeste were two out of four asian individuals within our county. In an interview with Celeste she shares her insight on growing up biracial in a conservative town, “...growing up in a white family, as the only Asian in our family and my highschool class (one or two asians in the entire school); I clung to my white culture, because it was all that I knew…conforming to the white culture was the only acceptable way to present myself. ”(Tilley, 2022). The pressure of the white influence in our hometown environment shaped a mold around both me and my sister through the way we approached fashion, speaking, interests, and political views. Through time we broke through this barrier, but we were fighting a battle within ourselves to break free of the emotional shackles that held us back from understanding and appreciating our true biracial identity. 

              I was not exposed to much Southern Indian culture in my childhood, and my mother was the only one that encouraged Celeste and me to explore more. Being a single parent, my mother was always working third shift, but she always made time for Celeste and me. Every once and a while during the summer, my mother would take off work for a week so that we could take a roadtrip to see our godmother, Vina. Auntie Vina was the instigator of my mother and father’s love story, and grew up in Mauritius with my father, so she was the only trustworthy Indian family member of mine within a five hundred mile radius. My mother, Celeste, and I would pack into a small, blue car and head off to Washington, D.C., blasting my mom’s old Beyonce CD with the windows down to distract from the broken A/C. I remember always arriving at night to Auntie Vina’s house, because my mother has the smallest bladder on the planet and insisted on stopping every hour. When entering her home, the smell of cinnamon, fresh baked roti on the stove, and her favorite incense burning from the temple would instantly hug my nose. Auntie would direct us to the guest room where my sister and I would be staying for the night, while Irshan and Harry–my god brothers–would pile into the room to greet us with embraceful hugs and delightful screams.

                    Auntie Vina would cook us traditional Indian food at least twice when staying at her home; my favorite dish was always chana masala and aloo gobi with naan. From the time I was little until I grew up, every time I visited Auntie Vina’s home, she would gather me and Celeste together and talk about her experiences in Mauritius. Vina was not only a role model to me, but to Celeste as well, “... it was 

                   (Auntie Vina)                                           difficult to research my culture through people that I was                                                                                     not comfortable with. Vina was one of the only Eastern                                                                                         Indian people that felt like family. She would teach us                                                                                             how to cook Indian dishes, let us try on/shop for                                                                                                     traditional Indian clothing, tell us Hindu stories, and take                                                                                         us to the Hindu and Hare Krishna temples. Me, my                                                                                                   partner, sister, and mother went to an Indian Festival in a                                                                                       city close to us, and I experienced my culture through                                                                                         food, dance, conversing with others, and clothing. Manju                                                                                       is a recent family friend who is a first generation                                                                                                     immigrant from Northern India who invites me and Joy to participate in holidays like Holi.” (Tilley, 2022). During my Senior Year of high school, my family went to an Indian Festival which had booths filled with Indian artwork, jewelry, and traditional and modern Indian clothing. We conversed with so many different Indian individuals that taught us how to pleat sarees (traditional Indian women clothing). There was a stage where dancers were scheduled to perform different dances that included Bharatanatyam, Kathakali, and the Sattriya Dance. This was probably one of the first times I felt the specific, warm, fuzzy feeling filled my heart, like I was inches away from winning the uphill battle of coming to terms with my true identity. Finally, I was comfortably existing among people who were just like me.

             Auntie would always express her appreciation of living in America, because the Indian women in Mauritius were treated lesser than men. In India, or Indian families, arranged marriages orchestrated by the parents and elders of the family are very common. Dating is discouraged, along with any “love marriage”, as marriage is a strong symbol of the blending of both families. Women are encouraged to get a good education and a job, while also maintaining the duties of a wife. Unlike Hindus, As America began to normalize women in the workforce, so did the church, which altered the outlook on the purpose of women within the gospel. Lori Beaman shares from her research that, “approximately half of married Mormon women work part-time outside the home to help ends meet, the church critiques women who work and thereby neglect their families. (Beaman, 2001) ” This patriarchal ideal in Indian culture affects many women that are a part of the community psychologically, especially including those who are immigrants.  As a person who grew up with the teachings of Mormon values, there was a harsh emphasis on the responsibilities of a woman in a marriage, which has similar elements to Indian marriage values. According to the Mormon core document, “The Family: A Proclamation To The World,” women are to birth children, take care of the kids, and household duties, while the men provide, support, and offer the Priesthood power to his wife and kids. The patriarchal viewpoint implemented into the Mormon culture deteriorates the level of agency Mormon women have within the church and their communities. Mormon women have to stray away from worldly society ideals on relationships, as the church does not promote premarital sex.  The values of morphing the families together are similar, but have a more spiritual meaning to Mormons, as a lawful marriage in the temple  will be eternal, including any additional kids in the family. Marriage is significant in the LDS faith, as it is deemed a requirement for an eternal life with God. 

                    While growing up in an American society, where everything is romanticized through the media and embedded into cultural ideas, Indian women who are immigrants or whose elders are immigrants struggle with maintaining their native cultural expectations of arranged marriages, while coexisting in an environment that looks down at their societal practice. This creates a cultural value conflict, which is defined in the article titled, Development and Preliminary Validation of the Cultural Values Conflict Scale for South Asian women, as ”an experience of negative affect (e.g. guilt, anxiety) and cognitive contradictions that result from contending simultaneously with the values and behavioral expectations that are internalized from the culture of origin (South Asian culture) and the values and behavioral expectations imposed on the person from the new culture (Anglo American culture).”(Inman, Ladany, Constantine, and Morano, 2001). South Asian Americans have a choice: embrace and fully assimilate into both sides of their culture and risk creating conflict within their family, or ignore an integral part of their identity.  There was always a fire waiting to burn, as I constantly felt the urge to learn more about my Indian culture without my father’s help, while also following the Mormon standards that my parents enforced. It almost felt wrong to ask my parents to help me accept and experience my Hindu culture, like taking  me to a Hindu temple every Sunday to learn about gods/goddesses, when Mormonism believes that worshiping idols is a sin. Celeste opens up about her struggles growing up in a Mormon home while inciting the knowledge of her Indian culture, “When I was young, I never felt the need to research my culture because I was not encouraged to do so growing up. Mormonism does not influence members to learn about any other culture than theirs, which is a westernized religion. After leaving the Mormon church, I realized the conflict that the Mormon culture created through their teachings mimicking white supremacy ideals.” (Tilley, 2022)

                     Adjusting to the dominant white culture was, and still is strenuous for Vina, Celeste and I. Although we grew up with varying cultural differences, we struggle with balancing our Indian culture in a white influenced environment. Vina had to undergo the new chapter of navigating an equilibrium of American and Indian culture. After settling in America, Vina had to learn how to apply to school in the States as an immigrant and complete her business degree; not only for a stable income, but having the power to take the opportunity at choosing her own path of life. 

                     When we would visit Vina, I would pester her to tell us Hindu origin stories. I remember helplessly listening to each word that would escape her mouth, because that was the only time I felt connected to my Indian culture. Compared to most westernized religions, Hinduism grants the follower more freedom with spirituality: I remember Vina making it known that when someone practices Hinduism, they are able to choose what Gods/Goddesses they worship based on their fascination with them. One of my favorite stories connects with the spirituality and symbolism that Mauritians hold due to traditional beliefs. The ocean is a highly important part of the Hindu culture, which makes up almost half of the religious demographic in Mauritius. One of the most significant Hindu stories that expresses appreciation for the ocean is the story of Samudra Manthan (समुद्रमन्थन). The story begins when Sage Durvasa inflicted a curse on Indra, which led to a war between the Devas and Asuras, where the Devas lost their powers. During the war, the Devas lacked perseverance and trust within themselves to win, but they were defeated. All of the God and Goddesses became weak in “heaven” because the Devas lost their powers. The Devas went to heaven to find Brahma for help, but  he redirected them to Vishnu, who told them to craft a written agreement with the Asuras: in return they would receive worthwhile blessings. 

                        They began to “Churn the Ocean of Milk,” or “Kshira Sagar for Amrita,” which is a representation of “churning,” or elevating the collective human awareness.​​ The Devas and Asuras embody the self-realization one must attain by balancing positive and negative traits in oneself. To complete this action, the team consisted of Vashni, the king of snakes who was the rope, and the Mandara Mountain that served as a churning rod. When churning the ocean, the Mandara Mountain represents the mind, while Dhaar illustrates the steady flow of consciousness. The ocean holds an elixir that holds a magical substance that would grant the dietes immortality. After churning the sea for a while, fourteen gems and divine goddesses, Lakshmi emerged from the sea for the mortals and entities to use for eternity.   The offerings that were provided signify the mental and spiritual qualities that one receives after completing penances and resolving sorrow and suffering (like Devas and Asuras). When the Devas and Asuras enjoy their rewards post conflict, there is a lesson of importance to accept the gifts with good intent rather than a selfish motive. The goddess that was a gift of Samudra Manthan–Lakshmi--is like the lotus flower, as she promotes detachment from materialism that is negative due to outside influences. 

              The deeper meaning of the tale of Samudra Manthan showcases the connection that Hindus have with the ocean; in many Hindu stories, the ocean is a place of safety, or where dissension is resolved. As a child, this story taught me that every individual on the planet has bad qualities, yet we can learn and heal from these traits through spiritual practice, people, and experiences. The ocean in this story is a strong representation of a place where a battle between forces is resolved, like the battle I and many other biracial/immigrated individuals undergo in a white dominated society. There has always been a special place in my heart for the ocean since I was little, and the yearly trips my family took to the coast of North Carolina made my bond to the sea even stronger. 

When I’m sitting on the beach, the breeze creating a mini sand storm across the ground, a feeling of peace overcomes my soul as the waves crash into each other. I close my eyes; as I ground myself I can feel all of my problems melt away, if only for but a moment. Like the Devas and Asuras, I made the ocean a sanctuary where I came to resolve my battles by accepting the entirety of my identity. When I would meditate on the beach, I would ponder about my ancestors and their spiritual connections with the sea. Mauritians have a strong sense of environmentalism, which was showcased when the MV Wakashio oil spill occurred in 2020, spilling one thousand tons of oil into Mauritius’ ecosystem. The Mauritian community quickly came together–on their own–to craft “80 kilometers of makeshift ocean booms out of cane trash - the leftover leaves and waste from sugar-cane processing”, while some cut off their hair to create nets that soaked up the oil (Lewis, 2020). With the effort of the Mauritian people, only 1/4th of the oil reached the shore.  Genetically, the feeling that the beach was a place of refuge for me was present since I was a child. The sea provided my ancestors with nourishment, a unique ecosystem, a spiritual connection to nature, and made them passionate about maintaining a healthy, stable environment. These gifts from the universe provide the motivation that Mauritians hold to fight for the Mauritian ecosystem and sea.

                 I found power in the influence of Hindu and Mauritian beliefs, intuitively finding the sea as a sanctuary of the ongoing war of accepting my mixed Asian American identity. After years of struggling to feel confident in my own skin as a person of color in a completely white family, community, and religion, I realized that the only true way to transform in my situation is to freely accept both positive components of my cultures. The consolidating of cultures has become more common within the Mormon and Western states of America, specifically in Utah (one of the highest populated Mormon areas in the States). Holi is a yearly Indian tradition to celebrate spring through music and dressing up in white clothing and throwing powdered colors onto each other. During a Holi celebration, more Mormons (Brigham Young Students) showed up to celebrate compared to Hindus and Hare Krishnas. The two groups coming together to break the barriers of the differences between them to enjoy a once in a lifetime celebration created, “a means of performing treasured deals including good-will, mutual respect among faith groups, and the valuing diversity as a cultural resource.” (Brown, 2014).  Denying the acknowledgement and practice of either of my cultures will lead to a debilitating result. When I wear sarees, display Southern charm, place a bindi between my eyebrows, sing songs of The Temptations, cook tiki masala, use the Golden Rule, and provide offerings to Hindu Gods/Goddesses, I will stand with pride.

               Hiding from the South Asian component within my identity

created a deep shame buried within my soul, but through self-realization,

the acceptance of immersing myself in Asian culture blossomed my
mentality and outlook on life. Through years of combat, I have transformed

my arduous battle into a dance of pride in celebration of who

I truly am: a fearless, mixed South-Indian and American

woman. 

 

                                       

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                                                         (Celeste on the right, Me on the left)

                                                                                  Citations

Yates, R. (2022, March 23). Navigating My Mixed-Race South Asian Identity. Retrieved October 9, 2022, from, https://indiaspora.org/navigating-my-mixed-race-south-asian-identity/.

 

Tilley, J. (2022, October 10). Undergoing The Battles of Growing Up South Asian Biracial with Celeste Tilley. 

 

Inman, A. G., Ladany, N., Constantine, M. G., & Morano, C. K. (2001). Development  and  preliminary validation of the Cultural Values Conflict Scale for South Asian women. Journal of Counseling Psychology, 48(1), 17–27. Retrieved October 9, 2022, from, https://doi.org/10.1037/0022-0167.48.1.17

 

Beaman, L. G. (2001). Molly Mormons, Mormon feminists and moderates: Religious diversity and the Latter Day Saints Church. Sociology of Religion, 62(1), 72–72. https://doi.org/10.2307/3712231 

 

Lewis, D. (2020). How Mauritius Is Cleaning Up After Major Oil Spill In Biodiversity Hotspot. Nature, 585(7824), 172–172. https://doi.org/10.1038/d41586-020-02446-7 

 

Brown, S. B. (2014). Krishna, Christians, and Colors: The Socially Binding Influence of Kirtan Singing at a Utah Hare Krishna Festival. Ethnomusicology, 58(3), 454–480. https://doi.org/10.5406/ethnomusicology.58.3.0454

 

                                                                                    Interview:

Q: Growing up as a mixed South-Asian and White individual, did you ever feel that you didn’t fit in because you were biracial?  

A: “Well yes, as growing up in a white family, growing up as the only Asian in our family and class in school, (one or two Asians in the entire school). I clung to my white culture, because it was all that I knew. In the small town that I grew up in, conforming to the white culture was the only acceptable way to present myself. “

 

Q: Did you ever experience forms of racism, and if so, could you share an experience and how you felt, or handled the situation? 

A: “Normally, when I would go through experiences of racism, people would have prejudice about the color of my skin: they could not tell what “race” I was due to being biracial. People would call me african and hispanic slurs, usually jokes generated about the amount of body hair and the color of my skin. When I was younger, I had repressed feelings due to the racism that I experienced; I even tried to shave or bleach my hair. One day while working as a server, my coworker said, 

“Dang, your legs are so dark that they don’t match the rest of your skin.” 

In the summer, people would say, 

“Oh, wow. You tan so fast! You’re nearly black. I wish I could be as tan as you.” 

Now, people commenting on my skin doesn't bother me as much because I am confident as an Asian woman. Truly, growing up in a conservative town and family, I had racism towards myself and others, which I had to combat through self reflection of my own identity as a biracial individual. A lot of times I am called native american because Ameicans do not know the difference between Eastern Indian, and Indegenious individuals.”

 

Q: What figures in your life helped you research your South Asian culture? 

A:“Auntie Vina, the most because it was difficult to research my culture through people that I was not comfortable with. Vina would teach us how to cook Indian dishes, let us try on/shop for traditional Indian clothing, tell us Hindu stories, and take us to the Hindu and Hare Krishna temples. Me, my partner, sister, and mother went to an Indian Festival in a city close to us, and I experienced my culture through food, dance, conversing with others, and clothing. Manju is a recent family friend who is a first generation immigrant from Northern India who invites me and Joy to participate in Hindu holidays like Holi.  “

 

Q:Did you ever feel a negative pressure to not pursue education about South Asian culture because it conflicted with the Westernized Mormon environment that you grew up in? 

A:When I was young, I never felt the need to research my culture because I was not encouraged to do so growing up. Mormonism does not influence members to learn about any other culture than theirs, which is a westernized religion. After leaving the Mormon church, I realized the conflict that the Mormon culture created through their teachings mimicking white supremacy ideals.

 

Q: Do you feel that you struggled with your identity more than your peers due to being biracial? 

A: Yes, I felt almost like an imposter, because I knew that I was Asian, yet knew nothing about my culture. I clung into white culture so that I could easily fit into the dominated white society that I grew up in.