Of Complex Autonomy - A Review of "What We Inherit: Growing Up Indian”
10 July 2022
Carolyn Oei
The word "inheritance" implies something that is foisted upon someone, even if it's acres of land or cash in the bank. Did you ask for it? Most likely not. Can you say no? Perhaps that option should exist as of right. It only makes sense that the autonomy to say yea or nay is inherent for every individual. But, of course, few things in life make sense.
Which is why "What We Inherit" is a good book. Immediately, it recognises and acknowledges the complex and intersectional nature of the subject matter at hand - growing up as an Indian woman in Singapore. The book is sensibly sectioned - for some semblance of structure - into five parts that dive into such minefields as discrimination, oppression and identification, but there is no claiming that this makes the discussions any less messy or difficult.
I write this in Seoul, South Korea, where it's obvious that power - particularly male power - is revered. I don't know enough about the gender dynamics here, but, according to VICE, misogyny is alive and well.
But where is it not?
In her essay, "A 'Troublesome' Womanliness", Matilda Gabrielpillai describes the misogyny that existed in her own family, even if the exercise of it might have been wrecked with inner conflict and turmoil.
Jenya, who wanted to be "a legitimate Indian", also discusses decisions having been made for her and about her but rarely with her, and familial bullying in "When the Cauldron Broke".
In a similar vein, bi-racial Leia Devadason, in "Kirwani Pallavi and What it is Trying to Tell Me (2018-2022)", tried her best to be as Indian as she could be. Her account of using classical Indian dance to establish her identity raises questions of identification that are internal and embodied, and where the answers have to be quite literally worked out.
For Fuzzie in "Around the Thaal", food - a known purveyor of joy, sorrow, confusion, pain, self-loathing and envy - was a marker of both her similarity and difference. Her discussion highlights the multiple permutations of being "Indian", a term that is arguably reductive, convenient at best.
Ryan Mennen's "Not Systemic" offers a bit of comic relief. Readers might find themselves asking how many times they've heard, witnessed or even participated in similar acts of "casual" racism. The poem makes one shift uncomfortably in one’s seat. Ahahaha, haha, ha…
Like any good book, "What We Inherit" invites questioning.
Can we forgive our parents for their rubbish decisions in the name of "everything we did was in your best interest"?
How much more flipping of tables will it take to rid our own homes of misogyny?
When should a girl take matters into her own hands?
A hip-hoorah for autonomy is a probable response to many of the questions that this important anthology might jolt in its readers. Certainly, a hip-hoorah is in order for its editors and contributors.
"What We Inherit: Growing Up Indian" was conceptualised and produced by AWARE as a follow-up to "Growing Up Perempuan". It is available online and in bookstores (Kinokuniya, Epigram Bookshop and Grassroots Book Room) and as an e-book via Ethos Books.
Note: This review was edited on 18 July 2022 to reflect the book’s availability.