IDENTITY

In my own limited scope, I would consider the people of India to be distinctively identifiable. Of course this tendency is not unique to India, but, perhaps I can see it more clearly in a country where the melting pot (of internationals) classification does not apply so extensively. Alas, India certainly has its own diversity. In many ways there is a huge disparity between the rich and poor, the educated and not, the male and female. Identifiable. The men in clothing dictated by their position. The young women in churidars, the older women in sarees. The dalit women often required to bare more midriff in their sarees. Some children dressed in their government school uniforms and other children in their private school uniforms. Then, of course, there is the Bindi dot for the young Hindus, with an additional mark near the hairline for the married women of this faith. There are the covered heads of Muslim women. The necklaces of marriage symbols, of prayers, of the cross. And ME, I am marked as well. Even behind my churidar and shawl, I remain a white girl. A foreigner. I cannot escape or change this identity. I cannot disown these things or pretend that I am not from a place of privilege, from a foreign land, of a different ethnicity. I cannot lose my identity but I suppose I can use my identity to change stereotypes and impressions that we present as an American culture. I can define myself - and my identity - by the love of God and the new creation that I am through the death of Christ.