Throughout my childhood, I've been faced repeatedly with the rhetoric that there are those in our world who should be seen and not heard. This idea has been weaponized for generations in attempts to deamplify not just children, but all minorities.
As philosopher and activist Simone de Beauvoir theorized, this process of “othering” is systematically implemented throughout many cultures in regards to age, gender, class, or race (but in her theory's context, moreso gender) to condition minorities to think of themselves as secondary to a larger, more valid narrative.
As a 16-year-old, Bangladeshi-American, third-culture-kid, I have been “othered” by many throughout my life. Be it teachers, politicians, judgemental aunties, or social media trends, I've faced their othering. In my years of travelling the world in countries such as Bangladesh, Zambia, Vietnam, and Korea, I've come to know othering as a universal experience that transcends time, nationality, and background alike.
In today's increasingly Westernized and insatiably globalizing climate, it's more important than ever to be equipped with the tools needed to combat the false rhetoric that some of us are merely props to a superior narrative in which we can otherwise play no part in. I've concluded that these tools are fueled best by pure, unadulterated empowerment.
Empowerment is crucial in our world. It's the antidote to the harrowing landmine that is growing up in a post-pandemic, pro-social media society, and simultaneously the key to unlocking each of our own highest selves. I believe that there is an inherent creativity in us all that comes with unravelling the knots of our identities, which is impossible without a grasp on one's empowerment. Not to continually reference my years as a philosophy student, but the idea that one must “know thyself” -- as philosopher and orator Socrates eloquently put it -- is arguably more necessary today than it was in the 5th century BCE. As Socrates implied, and modern self-help books reiterate constantly, the strongest form of empowerment is one that comes from a sense of self.
This is not only because of how fast disconcerting news can now travel the world, or how quickly one trend can convince thousands of young girls online that their facial features are inadequate. It is because each of us, whether grown or still growing (though I'd argue that the latter is always in process), is grappling with what seems to be an ever-burgeoning definition of identity.
In other words, we are entering a future in which knowing thyself is a much more complicated game.
And we know two things for certain: Without steady empowerment, it is utterly impossible to understand what a person's story is, what it can be, and where it came from. And without a determination to tell and show others your story, it is impossible to find your empowerment.
That is why it is not only important that each of us feel our stories deserve to be shared -- it is essential. In establishing my own column in the Dhaka Tribune, I plan to highlight stories and charge discussions about Bangladeshi/American cultural divides, the future of Islam as applied in the modern world, representation, battling misinformed stereotypes in the media, and much more. All these things are a part of my story, one that has taught me enough to understand the value of speaking my truth and encouraging all those around me to do the same.
This column will lead along the vein of aiming to do exactly what I've been cautioned against: Be seen and heard. Seen and Heard will spark a call to be different, feel different, and cause a difference.
With all the empowerment I have to share, I welcome you to join me.
Deya Nurani is a high school student based in the US.