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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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? A podcast that explores identities. I'm Akwe Amosu and today I'm speaking to Safa. Safa, why do people ask you that question?

Safa: Thank you so much for having me. People ask me that question because I am Palestinian, but I am diaspora Palestinian. I was born and raised not in Palestine, but in the United States, and now I live in Europe. And so people are often asking me that because they can tell that I have a different background I guess.

AA: And what's your reaction to being asked that question? What does it make you feel?

Safa: Oftentimes it depends on the situation but oftentimes I feel insecure because typically they start with oh where are you from and I give them an answer and then when they ask no but where are you really from that means they were not satisfied with my answer. It could be that the reason I gave my initial answer, maybe I said, oh, I'm from around here or I'm from wherever is because I'm kind of assessing the situation. I'm assessing like, okay, am I in a grocery checkout line and I just want to get out of here? Is there like a creepy person who's talking to me and I just want to end the conversation? Or is it someone fun at a party? And I actually do want to tell them, or I want to test the waters with something small. So when they ask that question, it feels very invasive.

AA: Is there something about being asked to reveal who you are that feels dangerous?

Safa: Yes. Yes, especially as a Palestinian. My entire life, it has been a precarious identity to share because I have always lived in spaces where people attribute certain ideologies or terms to me that are completely inaccurate and are actually quite discriminatory. For example, when I've told people before, “Oh, I'm Palestinian,” they have said to me, “Oh, so you're a terrorist.” :”Oh, so you're anti-Semitic,” which I am not. Absolutely not. I’m not either of those things and neither are most of the Palestinians I've ever known in my whole life. So it feels quite dangerous because when people have those ideas about you, it's not only offensive, but they act in a different way when they think that you are threatening. They act in a threatening and sometimes potentially violent way. So it is very scary.

Safa. Used with permission.

AA: So how do you usually answer when you get asked this question?

Safa: So if I feel safe, like let's say I'm at a party and someone's wearing a keffiyeh, or they've got like watermelon earrings on or something, I'm like, okay, I can tell them I'm Palestinian. You know, both of my parents are Palestinian. My mom was even born there, and I am really proud of that. I'm very proud of it. But if I'm not sure of the situation, or maybe I've identified that they said something that already felt a little bit, I'm not really sure about this. I might test the waters. So what I might say is “I'm Arab,” which is true. I might say “I am Jordanian,” of which technically I'm a passport holder. So technically that is correct on a nationality level, not on an identity level.

But if I feel very, very unsafe where I feel like, okay, They might be just straight up racist, or it's not a good situation, or I just don't want to engage. I might just say, “Oh, I was born in the US,” or I'm from this particular town in the US. And sometimes that satisfies people.

I also, very rarely, I've taken a sort of page out of my mother's book, which is just making something up completely. If I feel really unsafe or really annoyed that day, I might just say, “Oh, I'm French” or, “Oh, I'm Greek,” or just whatever, just to get them away from me.

AA: You're really revealing the complexity of having to answer these questions! Do you think that the people who ask you these questions know how complex it is and is there a way for them to ask the question that would be okay for you?

Safa: So I actually think usually people don't realize it's such a tricky question or it's such a loaded question. I've actually had conversations with people in the US and in Europe to kind of explain to them why this question feels so invasive or so sensitive. And their reaction has always been surprise, because, for them, some of these people just haven't had to think about it for more than a second, what safety means or what feeling like being under a microscope might feel like or being part of a group that's particularly hated against. And so I do think that the intentionality is oftentimes just like from a place of curiosity. But, you know, I do think that people sometimes take their curiosity too far because, at the end of the day, it is none of their business.

I think what I would like to see, and I've experienced some nice examples where I'll tell someone where I'm from, whatever answer I decide to answer, and I can tell that they look dissatisfied with my answer, but they don't inquire further, right? And I think in those moments, they recognize that I am not sure if I feel safe or comfortable in that setting, for whatever reason, let's say it's in front of a big group. And then I'll have people come to me one on one after to be like, so where did you say you were from? And maybe I'll give a different answer, maybe the same one.

I've also had people who just kind of focus on other attributes of my identity that are maybe more relatable to them. So if they ask where I'm from and they're not satisfied with my answer, they might ask me, “Oh, what do you do for your job?” And I like that. Or “Yeah, did you notice the weather? What do you like to do when it's sunny?” These questions that then get to the heart of who I am in a different way. Because of course my identity is an important part of the puzzle, but there are also other interesting things about me. And that's how I try to approach it with other people too.

I've also had people be a bit sneaky, which I think is fun and fine. And if they're not satisfied with my answer, they'll be like, “Oh, do you also speak other languages?” And that kind of gives it away too, to some extent, which I'm okay with, because then they're still inquiring in more of a curious and compassionate way, which I really appreciate.

AA: Is there anything else you want to say?

Safa: I do have to acknowledge that the moment we're having this conversation is a really difficult moment for Palestinians and actually for Arabs everywhere. We're really hurting right now. And I think in the same way that people… sometimes don't know how to breach the topic of where are you from. They also don't know how to breach the topic of talking to someone whose people are experiencing a genocide or also other types of tragedies and stress. And maybe just to share with those people to say, it's okay to be sloppy and It's okay as long as it comes from a place of compassion and that you are communicating that awkward feeling. Maybe instead of not saying anything, you might say, oh, wow, oh, you're Palestinian. I wish I had the right words to say right now, or I wish I knew how to talk about what's happening right now. I think there are ways to be so compassionate, you know, that open the door for more understanding, for more exchange.

AA: Thank you, Safa.

Safa: Thank you so much.

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?,” a podcast that explores identities. I'm Akwe Amosu and my guest today is Olek Shyn. Hey, Olek.

Olek Shyn (OS): Hi, Akwe. It's a pleasure to talk to you.

AA: Why do people ask you that question? 

OS: I think it's because most of the time people find me in circumstances that don't really match how I look, or what I'm talking about, or the language I speak. Because I'm Korean–Ukrainian, I was born in Central Asia, in Uzbekistan, in the area of the former Soviet Union, where we had a Korean diaspora like myself. But we are very different from what people perceive as Korean people today, which is South Koreans or North Koreans. So yeah, as a Korean–Ukrainian, I'm always in those circumstances, like even in the Ukrainian activist circles, where people do not naturally expect me to be Ukrainian. And then, of course, when I'm in Ukraine, people don't really expect me to be Ukrainian either because I look Korean. I mean, both my parents are ethnically Korean. But then in Korea or in East Asia, people will be like, oh, so you are Ukrainian because culturally and passport-wise, I'm more from the Eastern European kind of upbringing. So yeah, people do tend to ask that question a lot.

AA: And what is your reaction when they ask you? 

OS: Well, it really depends. I mean, most of the time I treat this question as a sign of friendliness. You know, people are welcoming a conversation, and they want to learn about me. But of course, there are cases when I feel like the intention behind that question is rather to understand everything in simple terms. People want to hear a one-word or two-word answer, which is the country name. And then, of course, if I feel like I can sense that intention or any other intention, I usually adjust my answer. So if I feel like they're friendly, I give them a longer answer and we continue. And I might go as far as one hundred years ago, telling them about the history of my people, the great resettlement, you know, the migration, the oppression. Or if I feel like these people just want a quick label, then I just give it to them. I say, I'm from Ukraine, and that's it. And I leave it to them to assume what kind of Ukrainian I am.

AA: But does the question make you feel uncomfortable? 

OS: It actually does in certain circumstances, but not always, not necessarily. I feel like because I spent most of my time outside of Ukraine, when I talk to people of very diverse backgrounds, I give people the benefit of the doubt. And I always treat this as a welcoming question, and I always say, well, I'm from Ukraine. And then I just look at their faces, and some of them do show that they're confused. In which case, of course, I give it to them and I explain. But in some circumstances, usually it's Ukrainian circles, I assume that people ask that because they see me as an Other. So in that case, of course, I would be a little bit more assertive. And I feel like in that specific case, it's my obligation to let them know that I am indeed one of them, at least in certain terms. Of course, identities are extremely complex. Us and them: it's very hard to define these categories. But in that case, I usually say, yes, I am from Ukraine, so we'll have to build upon that. And yeah, most of the time people are ready to accept that kind of conversation. But sometimes I do hear takes that are extremely upsetting. It happens so rarely that I remember most of them. I've had the conversation that goes, “Where are you from?” “I'm from Ukraine too.” And then it goes, “Then what's up with your face?” That conversation I will remember for the rest of my life.

Oleksandr Shyn, photo used with permission.

AA: What do you like to say to people about your identity if the conditions are right? 

OS: I speak of the history of oppression, because that defines a lot of what I do right now and defines a certain continuity in my people's history, because my ancestors, my Korean ancestors, were living in the Far East and parts of the Russian Empire. But in 1937, they were subject to Soviet deportation, the resettlement of the whole ethnic group living in those territories into Central Asia. It was sort of the beginning of the Soviet mass deportations that were meant to detach people from areas close to their homelands. This happened to pretty much every ethnic minority in the Soviet Union. It happened to Ukrainians themselves. They were once a minority in a big empire as well.

I think a lot of that defined the way I see my Korean-ness, but a lot of that also defined how I see my Ukrainian-ness, because that's something that connects us, the Soviet Koreans and Ukrainians of today, the fight for the freedom, first of all, but also the right to bear that memory, the right to heal the trauma and the right to identify the perpetrator, which in this case is, of course, Russian imperialism and Russian colonialism in the case of Ukrainian people.

AA: So, for someone who's listened to this conversation and realized that they've been asking that question — “Where are you really from?” — and not realizing that it can cause hurt or offense? What's a better way to ask the question? How would you like to be asked about your identity and history? 

OS: I really don't mind the question, the “Where are you from?” without the “really” one, because “really” is the hurtful part, right? People assume that there is a certain answer to “Where are you from?” and therefore they already go ahead and they add that “really” to say your first answer will not work for me anyways why don't you start with something that's already you know gonna satisfy my curiosity and also perhaps answer my assumptions about your race about how you look or what language you speak or what accent you're wearing. So I feel like drop the “really” just ask the genuine “Where are you from?” because that is as as generic but also as sincere as it could be I feel like it could be about your place it could be about your identity it could be about where your grandparents were from or it could be about your home that you have right now perhaps. In my case Taipei is my home and Taiwan is my only home at the moment because southern Ukraine is occupied by Russia so technically this country, where I've been living for only three years of my life, is where I am from in many contexts, so I feel like that question reveals a lot, but drop the “really,” really.

AA: So, Olek, is there anything else you would like to be able to say about this topic? 

OS: Well, I think this question is very personal, right? Everyone will have an answer to it, and perhaps depending on the mood you're in. But I think it's been useful for me personally to have a certain defense mechanism developed about how to accept this question when people approach me. You know, it's very suggestive. “Where are you really from?” And then once I'm saying I'm Ukrainian, I would say, “Oh, you know, well, everyone in Ukraine looks like this.” And then I just observe their reaction. And that is really precious, I feel like. And it also makes my day a little bit better.

AA: Thank you, Olek. 

OS: Thank you so much for this conversation.

Originally published on Global Voices

Image courtesy of Sydney Allen via Canva

Georgia has come a long way when it comes to gender equality. Most recently, this progress was commended by the Committee on the Elimination of Discrimination against Women (CEDAW), which concluded the consideration of the sixth periodic report from Georgia in February. The Committee noted the “plethora of mechanisms, plans and actions to advance efforts towards equality and women’s empowerment, to combat gender-based violence, and domestic violence.”

However, despite the significant progress, there are still gaps which, according to the head of Georgia’s mission to the Committee, Niko Tatulashvili, require “a mental revolution,” in addition to laws and other necessary mechanisms. The notion of mentality also came up during a recent Global Voices podcast interview with the authors, Maya Talakhadze and Ekaterine Khositashvili, of an upcoming report within the scope of the “Defeating Gender Inequality” project in Georgia.

The project is a joint initiative between the Disruption Network Lab and the Regional Development Hub-Caucasus. Joining them on the podcast was Emmy Thume, a journalist from Germany who visited Georgia in September and published a story about domestic violence in the country. Together, the three speakers shared their thoughts on the state of gender (in)equality in Georgia, the research findings of the report, and next steps. Find the full podcast interview accompanying this story here.

The origins of the report 

In an interview with Global Voices, Maya Talakhadze, who heads the Regional Development Hub-Caucasus, the partner of Disruption Network, said the idea for the research was born at the start of the COVID pandemic at the time when women were forced to stay home with the perpetrators of abuse and violence. Eventually, four main themes were identified for the report: sexual harassment in workplaces, domestic violence, economic participation, and political participation of women in Georgia. 

Each of these themes yielded both negative and positive findings, said Ekaterine Khositashvili during the interview. For instance, since 2019, Georgia has passed a series of amendments to existing laws and codes regarding sexual harassment at work, introducing the concept of sexual harassment in the workplace and public life. According to Ekaterine, despite the legal framework and mechanisms protecting victims of sexual harassment at work, the rate of sexual harassment appeals has been low.

Out of twelve ministries in Georgia, five so far have introduced sexual harassment reporting mechanisms. What was interesting, however, as a result of our research, we were able to identify that were only two cases of sexual harassment instances reported through the mechanism in place.

While it was unclear why the numbers were so low, Khositashvili said the likelihood of reputational damage may have played a role. “The respondents mentioned they were hesitant due to opinions of colleagues as well as career opportunities in the future,” explained Khositashvili.

Hesitation around reporting sexual harassment extends beyond public institutions. This is also the case for victims of domestic abuse and violence. For instance, while victims can apply for housing in shelters, they often hesitate to do so. “They think they are not strong enough to use these opportunities and instead think of societal opinions and perceptions. So while the law provides victims opportunities to protect their rights, due to societal pressure, victims cannot enjoy these rights,” added Khositashvili.

Infographic by Disruption Lab. Shared with permission.

The latter is something Emmy Thume noticed during her time in Georgia as well. “In the interviews I did with lawyers and women who run shelters as well as activists, all across the board, [they] mentioned mentality and the patriarchal mindset, making it harder for women to tell their own truth and seek justice,” recalled Thume. 

According to the findings of the report: 

• Violence against women and domestic violence remain significant challenges in the country. The data showed that the rate of criminal prosecution in cases of violence against women and domestic violence is significantly higher than the rate of beneficiaries using services for the prevention of violence against women and domestic violence, which may indicate the low awareness of female victims of violence on the available state services;
• The limit of beneficiaries in shelters for victims of violence does not respond to the rate of domestic violence in the country, which can be a deterrent factor for potential victims;
• According to statistical data, the number of issued restraining orders increased, and the cases of femicide decreased. 
• Femicide remains a crucial issue, which indicates, among other things, the need to strengthen the capacity of law enforcement officers on the topic of violence against women. 

Infographic by Disruption Lab. Shared with permission.

Recommendations

One way to raise awareness of gender (in)equality in Georgia has been focusing on literature and films, said Talakhadze in an interview with Global Voices.

The main reason we decided to include feminist literature and move screenings as awareness-raising tools was because gender inequality is much deeper and bigger than law, and these channels [films and literature] provide us with insights about what we need to do more to empower each other. I am not saying that reading is some kind of magic that makes you stronger or powerful, but it does help. It gives insights. And it's not just reading or literature. There are other things that help us shape our opinions, position and our willingness to defend ourselves, and use our rights.

And the feedback has been positive, explains Talakhadze — at least from those participants who attended these events. 

But these efforts must go hand in hand with government-funded work to raise awareness, explains Khositashvili. “While we found out that the communication strategy carried out by the government works, we must also work directly with the people here in Georgia through culture, literature, and movies. We need to use other means of communication because what the government does is just one side, while civil society should be focused on parallel activities.”

As for recommendations and ways to move forward, ensuring that women are aware of existing services and legal remedies; encouraging women to report cases of harassment at work spaces; strengthening economic opportunities for women (especially vis-a-vis existing state-funded economic programs); early education programs (as young as kindergarten and primary school); and simplifying the language of laws to make them more accessible for all are all viable options for achieving greater gender equality. 

None of these recommendations and suggestions can work unless there is a united effort to break down deeply rooted stereotypes. Legally, Georgia is on the right path to eliminate these and other forms of restrictions and violations; however, in practice, there is still a long road ahead. 

Originally published on Global Voices

Image courtesy Sydney Allen

This episode is a companion to this article about gender inequality in Georgia.

In this episode, Global Voices’ South Caucasus and Turkey Editor Arzu Geybullayeva interviews Maya Talakhadze and Ekaterine Khositashvili, the authors of an upcoming report within the scope of the “Defeating Gender Inequality” project in Georgia. The project is a joint initiative between the Disruption Network Lab and the Regional Development Hub-Caucasus. Joining them on the podcast is Emmy Thume, a journalist from Germany who visited Georgia in September and published a story about domestic violence in the country. Together, the three speakers shared their thoughts on the state of gender (in)equality in Georgia, the research findings of the report, and next steps.

This special episode of the Global Voices Podcast is in partnership with the Berlin-based Disruption Network Lab, with whom Global Voices has collaborated on several events and interviews. If you enjoyed this episode, please subscribe and tell your friends about us! You can also follow us on Twitter. The music in this podcast is from the track “Voyage” by NikMartken, from our extended Global Voices community.

Originally published on Global Voices

Image courtesy Ameya Nagarajan

This week, we take a walk through Central Asia with Central Asia Editor Zhar Zardykhan, to find out the consequences for the region of the US withdrawal from Afghanistan followed by the ascent of the Taliban, which raises fears of militancy, but also puts strains on trade, movement and security. Meanwhile, Russia's invasion of Ukraine puts these countries on shaky ground, balancing their need to assert territorial integrity with their dependence on Russia for security, remittances and trade.

The Global Voices Podcast brings you local news from all over the world. Each week, insiders from our community share what news matters more in their communities and how they build their stories out of the local context. Listen now for your weekly dose of global news in local voices.

If you enjoyed this episode, please subscribe and tell your friends about us! You can follow us on Twitter. The music in this podcast is from the track “Voyage” by NikMartken, from our extended Global Voices community.

Originally published on Global Voices

Image Courtesy Ameya Nagarajan

This week, our Latin America Editor Melissa Vida explains the debate over water distribution in the drought-hit state of Querétero in Mexico, after which GV contributor Kevin Rennie comes on to break down the results of the Australian elections and explain what Labour's win and those of several independent candidates could mean going forward.

The Global Voices Podcast brings you local news from all over the world. Each week, insiders from our community share what news matters more in their communities and how they build their stories out of the local context. Listen now for your weekly dose of global news in local voices.

If you enjoyed this episode, please subscribe and tell your friends about us! You can follow us on Twitter. The music in this podcast is from the track “Voyage” by NikMartken, from our extended Global Voices community.

Originally published on Global Voices

Image courtesy Ameya Nagarajan

This week, we did something different. As part of our special coverage on press freedom, we interviewed five people about press freedom in their countries to get a sense of what are the challenges the media face in different parts of the world. We spoke to Fernanda Jaramillo, an independent journalist from Colombia, Raksha Kumar, a journalist and researcher from India, Wijayanto, a press freedom researcher from Indonesia, Vivian Wu, veteran Chinese journalist, and Jovana Presic, a journalist with a fact-checking organisation in Serbia.

The Global Voices Podcast brings you local news from all over the world. Each week, insiders from our community share what news matters more in their communities and how they build their stories out of the local context. Listen now for your weekly dose of global news in local voices.

If you enjoyed this episode, please subscribe and tell your friends about us! You can follow us on Twitter. The music in this podcast is from the track “Voyage” by NikMartken, from our extended Global Voices community.

Originally published on Global Voices

Image courtesy Ameya Nagarajan

This week we're joined by three people who are working to rejuvenate their traditional languages and bring them into the digital world. Amrit Sufi in India, Jhonnaten Rangel in Mexico, and Ọmọ Yoòbá in Nigeria research, write and collaborate the help their languages enter digital spaces. Listen to their stories and find out why we need this important work.

The Global Voices Podcast brings you local news from all over the world. Each week, insiders from our community share what news matters more in their communities and how they build their stories out of the local context. Listen now for your weekly dose of global news in local voices.

If you enjoyed this episode, please subscribe and tell your friends about us! You can follow us on Twitter. The music in this podcast is from the track “Voyage” by NikMartken, from our extended Global Voices community.

Originally published on Global Voices

Shagz Chronicles: A Kenyan Podcast in Kikuyu language. Used with permission.

Editor's note: From April 28, 2022, Shagz Chronicles will be managing the @DigiAfricanLang Twitter account to share their experiences with the revitalization and promotion of African languages. This is part of an ongoing social media campaign to celebrate linguistic diversity online. Read more about the campaign here.

Shagz Chronicles is a podcast where the hosts reminisce about growing up in the 1990s in rural Kenya and told in Gĩkũyũ (Kikuyu) — the country's third most spoken language. Hosted by Wathiomo and Jehudi (not their real names), the duo state in the show's blurb:

We were intrigued by a lot that was happening around us. This (podcast) is borrowed heavily from being young, curious, imaginative, our banter and appreciating the environment around us.

As part of our ongoing series highlighting the work of activists promoting African languages in digital spaces, we reached out to the podcast hosts.

Rising Voices (RV): Please tell us about yourself and your language-related work?

Shagz Chronicles (SC):  Shagz Chronicles is a podcast that is out to make people fall in love with the Gĩkũyũ (Kikuyu) language and using language as a stepping stone toward understanding their culture. We aim to teach, learn, and relate with others who chime in to be part of the conversation. We make the language fun to learn through stories, commonly used sayings, proverbs, etc. The stories that we share are from our upbringing within an Indigenous setup as a way of promoting our language within the digital space.

RV: What is the current state of your language both online and offline?

SC: We have had some good gains in both offline and online. The language is often spoken offline and it has made strides in terms of people young and old using it to communicate especially in business due to the bias “Mkikuyu ni wa biashara” (a Kikuyu person is only concerned with making money/running a business).

As for online, there have been notable contributions towards the language from around the world. This is through podcasts and poetry. On YouTube for instance, you’ll find many story-telling channels such as Jeff Kuria TV, Kikuyu digital TV, among others. This shows the potential for growth. Thanks to the internet, you can get a feel of being at home from anywhere in the world.

RV: Describe some of the challenges that prevent your language from being fully utilized online. Is there a lack of proper framework from a policy-making perspective:

SC: A good number of people within the digital space have negative attitudes towards the use of Indigenous languages since they associate it with tribalism.

RV: Describe some of the technical and or technological challenges that prevent your language from being fully utilized online.

SC: Translation of the language. Only a handful of online users understand the language. If native languages were given an opportunity to be translated just like Kiswahili, it would make a huge difference and impact. It would ensure growth of the language.

RV: What are some of the reasons you chose to use the podcasting medium over platforms such as blogging, vlogging, or others?

SC: For us, we chose podcasting because it allows our listeners to immerse themselves fully into the shows. Our listeners can be able to listen to us anywhere be it in Kenya on a train or anywhere else in the world at the beach since podcasting also allows listeners to tune in passively.

RV: What are some of the assumptions that you had made that were either dispelled or affirmed? Also, any surprises?

SC: Our assumptions were that we would naturally take a while to have an impact given that we’re such a niche. Also that we would upload content at our own pace. Little did we know that our content was one of a kind and we had to increase the pace of churning out this content.

We were surprised by the uptake of our content. Our fans engage with our content and even share it further and wider. It’s humbling to know that we’re making impact from our passion.
Another surprise is that we’re talking to three generations, as in our folks [gen X], millennials and, gen Z.

RV: What technological steps do you think, by either internet companies or digital platform owners, can encourage more usage of the language online?

SC: Digital platforms can begin by designing digital tools in native languages and also continue supporting accessibility and connectivity.

RV: The current growth of the language online and offline leans more towards the oral/audio aspects of the language, what effect might this have on the written/read aspects of it.

The Shagz chronicles podcast logo

SC: Due to the education and social systems the majority naturally lean towards audio more than written. Written has been an aspect primarily reserved for scholars.

The growth of oral language has a positive effect on written aspects of the language because it provides a much-needed foundation for writing skills

The lean towards oral also means we have a big opportunity to convert oral speakers into writers

RV: Is this a concern to some of the language speakers that you encounter online and offline? If so, what can/is being done to ensure that users of the language or those who want to learn do not just focus on the audio?

SC: Majority of language speakers are concerned that we have fewer and fewer people who can write the language. We need a platform that develops both oral and written aspects of the language e.g. poetry, for us, cuts across both written and oral skills

RV: What concrete steps do you think can be taken to encourage younger people to begin learning their language or keep using their language?

SC: Using our language in everyday activities. Existing and thriving in everyday spaces. Teaching and passing language in a way that young people understand.

Originally published on Global Voices

Image courtesy Ameya Nagarajan

This week, we take a deep dive into research from the Civic Media Observatory, where Daria Dergacheva tells us about the CMO's analysis of Vkontakte, a Russia-only social network. The research looked at how, in one of the few “public” spaces left to Russians in Russia, members responded to posts about the war, and terms and iconography associated with it. In a follow up post to the analysis discussed here, the CMO looked at how Ukrainians were using the same site to inform Russians about the war.

The Global Voices Podcast brings you local news from all over the world. Each week, insiders from our community share what news matters more in their communities and how they build their stories out of the local context. Listen now for your weekly dose of global news in local voices.

If you enjoyed this episode, please subscribe and tell your friends about us! You can follow us on Twitter. The music in this podcast is from the track “Voyage” by NikMartken, from our extended Global Voices community.

For more information about this topic, see our special coverage Russia invades Ukraine.