By Yashica Dutt
The discourse around caste so far has revolved on merit, reservation and the quota. Or we hear about brutal and tragic incidents of discrimination, which appear on the other end of the spectrum. But there are stories that lie somewhere in between these two. They are stories of shame, stories of conformity, stories of twisted and hidden identities that live and breathe among us. Two days after publishing my post in which I talked about Rohith Vermula’s death making me want to come out as a Dalit, I have been flooded with experiences from those who don’t wish to remain silent anymore.
Yet there are many more who do. Because they know the costs of coming out are not paid easily. Not in a society which is still largely unaware of its own deep prejudice. That’s why we need to hear this. Until everyone has heard. Until it becomes common conversation. Until it’s no longer brave to come out as Dalit.
Here are a few short posts from Dalit women who wrote to add their experiences to the conversation.
Priyanka Varma (Chamar)
“The sad part is people don’t realise (that) no one can choose certain things, such as caste, creed, race. You are born with it. But you can choose to be better human beings and not get caught in the web of prejudices. There is no shame in being who ever we are. We are what we are. My caste doesn’t define me it’s just a label, just like any other label of religion or of gender. It’s time we ourselves need to stop hiding. There is no humiliation in belonging to a certain caste. The ’ silence’ taught is all a way extended oppression. It’s time to put an end to it.”
Mimi Mondal (Poundra Kshatriya – Pod)
“I don’t often talk about caste, because it scares me to talk about caste. It chills my blood to talk about caste. I bury my head in my upper-middle-class/NRI privilege, and teach myself to think I am safe, because for a naturally paranoid person like me, sometimes that’s the only way to stay sane.
But this man belonged to my blood, and so do many others that upper-caste India destroys every day, and because I don’t talk about them, or relate them to myself, I become a lesser human being. I become a coward.
Let me try to not be a coward. Jai Bheem.”
(This was originally posted on Mimi Mondal’s Facebook page)
Archana Gore (via Twitter)
“This story is faced by many. Even today being an SC/ST is taboo. I know few families who have changed their surnames just because by surnames people recognize their caste and discriminate them. People are more interested in someone’s caste than the human being. I’m also proud to say that I belong to a SC. Don’t go by my surname. I’m not a brahmin.”
Shubhangini Nikose (Mahar)
“I belong to a lower middle-class family where my father worked as a government clerk. At school, some teachers made my brother and I sit a different lane, away from the rest of the class. This is a very vivid memory from my early years. I remember we (students from the same community) would sit at the back of the class and the higher caste students in the front. They never played with us or visited us in the back.
While studying in the postgraduate program, I never hid my identity. In fact, I was very vocal about it. All my roommates knew about my caste. My English was not very good. So I was scared to express myself. But other students assumed that since I was from the ‘quota’ category, I was dumb (maybe some still do, let them!) Anyone who had trouble understanding or expressing themselves would be mocked, “Quota wali hai kya?” (Is she from the quota) regardless of their actual category.
At work, most people are okay. But even then, they can’t resist asking about my caste. There are very few people who won’t change their behavior, despite knowing your identity. I must admit that I was scared to reveal my caste at work. Once, an upper caste colleague was having trouble finding a girlfriend. To which another female colleague, also upper caste responded while laughing, “SC/ST me dhund le koi bhi mil jayegi” (Look for someone in the SC/ST quota, anyone will say yes to you).”
These posts have been edited lightly for clarity.
If you’d like to add your experiences of growing up and living as Dalit, write to dutt dot yashica at gmail dot com.
Yashica Dutt is a New York-based writer covering gender, identity and culture. She was previously a Principal Correspondent with Brunch, Hindustan Times and is the founder of dalitdiscrimination.tumblr.com.