Stigma and I
It has been a very long time since I began DO. To be precise, it has been four years. And I am still learning how to navigate my way around the design interface and how to make this media work for me.
So while I figure that out, a little update on what has been happening in my life.
My kids are a whole four years older and that much more interesting and interested.
So now you're already wondering where I'm going with this. Why the title "Stigma and I".
OK let's start with that word. I studied the Psychology of Emotion when I was a Master's student at the University of Canterbury, New Zealand. I had a professor, Ken Strongman, who lent me a very insightful book: 'Stigma' (1963) by Erving Goffman. This was at the time I was working on my thesis on families of children with mental retardation and the stigmatisation they faced. The population on which my study was based was here in Bangalore, at a school called the Association for the Mentally Challenged (AMC). As I spent time with the families of the students of the school, became acquainted with their ways of life and the traumatic challenges they faced on a daily basis, I slowly became more aware of how we as a society are so ready to estrange, remove, ostracise, and "cleanse".
While writing my thesis I touched upon topics such as the Hindu caste system and its caste marks, and other symbolic ways societies have of declaring someone different and an outcast. The population I worked with needed no socially imposed physically discerning marks to mark them as different. Their behaviours, abilities (or lack of) and appearances readily distinguished them from the "norm". And while I was not able to recognise that people from higher socio-economic strata necessarily fared better, I did realise that those from the lower echelons of Indian society certainly fared badly. Whether it was having stones thrown at them in some kind of brutal show of hostility or having family members ignore them, these children - and their immediate family members - were found to routinely suffer some form of discrimination.
Stigma, the word, implies a stain. I'm sure those of you who have read the book 'The Scarlet Letter' (1850) by Nathaniel Hawthorne have some insight into this. [Hester must wear an 'A' for adulteress embroidered on her clothing to mark her as someone who has breached social propriety.] So a stain, or an indelible mark, permanently embedded in your "character" sets you apart, marks you, and additionally sets you up as an example of what society can do to those who do not abide by its norms (no matter what the circumstances). A deterrent, if you will.
I want to talk about something more contemporary and home-hitting. In 2015, Bangalore, the more liberal populations are a society in flux. Notions of social propriety are questioned every day. People break barriers every day. The educated, widely read, western-culture influenced are victims of this change. Or maybe they are the perpetrators. There is no one age group for this lot. Though possibly fewer in number, they do exist in their 50s, 60s even perhaps, although largely they are probably between 20 and 45.
Taboo behaviours or more "foreign"ones such as dating and premarital sex are passe now. Marriage by choice and even "living in"has become more common. The practice of the arranged marriage has been relegated to the stricter, more conservative sectors and communities. As communities and religions spill over into each other or imbibe external influences, the conservative nature of the parent culture retreats into a blurry background. Most of us greet this with great enthusiasm and as symbolic of freedom from some kind of oppression. I do too. However, it is not the end of the matter.
Unfortunately this same freedom has instigated in others a kind of burning all-consuming resentment. Anger that women particularly have a new found social independence that leaves men out of control. The overly treatised Nirbhaya rape is case in point (seen India's Daughter?). The theory now is stated as a problem with the Indian male, and that he must change in order to adapt. Of course this has all kinds of implications for Indian society as a whole. Stigma as we knew it and as we once obeyed it is now being questioned,
One of the most annoying (that's putting it mildly) stigmas in Indian society has always been that of a divorcee. A woman in any condition of singlehood was always considered an oddity and has therefore earned stigmatising labels: spinster, widow, and the latest, divorcee. Of course, today society has become more accepting of all of these, but there is always the conviction that "something must be wrong with her!" In other words, a woman would not voluntarily want to be single. Even the widow who did not choose to be widowed is not spared in some communities - she "brought bad luck".. or was a "sumangali"(destined to bring death to her husband).
So beware the divorcee! She actually managed to not be a sumangali, managed to avoid spinsterhood, managed to get married and then chose to get divorced!
It is invariably a choice that a large population still cannot or will not understand. And hence the fear that comes with associating with the unknown factor: the divorced woman.
And let's say that that part has been accepted. Lo and behold that newly divorced woman is a mother! And - instead of going back to her parents' home (to become what, a daughter again?) - lives by herself with her children.
Now this is a whole different level of culturally unacceptable behaviour. The divorced, independent, single mother is a whole new breed that Indian society has no clue how to work with. And the cross she bears sometimes can be one pretty hard to bear.
There are all kinds of reactions. Several well-meaning, but misguided; others simply delusional; and still others a kind of disbelief and envy. Whatever the perception, she is the wearer of stigma. She is symbolic of the distasteful, the forbidden, the feared... that which tears at the very fabric of society. If she is tolerated at all, it is in brief snapshots wherein she is allowed her share in normalcy to a limited extent. But thankfully this is 2015, and there are are the wonderfully liberated minds that exist in urban Bangalore, and a single mother can hold her head as high as the most devout wife, and be as integral a part of society as she chooses to be.
Perhaps she cannot be a part of as many family-based activities as she would like. Perhaps she chooses not to be around married couples as much as she would have before. Perhaps she socialises with other single people more than she ever did before. Maybe her lifestyle changes substantially to sometimes confuse even her. She has her loneliness to contend with; her children to look after by herself. There is so much in this new life of hers that it becomes difficult to take notice of rejection or any lack of welcome or warmth in social circles she does not frequent anymore.
And sometimes... when she raises her head long enough to notice it... the absence of any meanness is stunning.
Today I find, regardless of my marital status or my living alone with my children, people only react to me as who I am. If I am strong, kind, loving and walk with a sense of purpose and a sense of humour... there is no one who will disrespect me or dislike me based on a socially imposed expectation or creation.
Stigma and I are friends.
So while I figure that out, a little update on what has been happening in my life.
My kids are a whole four years older and that much more interesting and interested.
So now you're already wondering where I'm going with this. Why the title "Stigma and I".
OK let's start with that word. I studied the Psychology of Emotion when I was a Master's student at the University of Canterbury, New Zealand. I had a professor, Ken Strongman, who lent me a very insightful book: 'Stigma' (1963) by Erving Goffman. This was at the time I was working on my thesis on families of children with mental retardation and the stigmatisation they faced. The population on which my study was based was here in Bangalore, at a school called the Association for the Mentally Challenged (AMC). As I spent time with the families of the students of the school, became acquainted with their ways of life and the traumatic challenges they faced on a daily basis, I slowly became more aware of how we as a society are so ready to estrange, remove, ostracise, and "cleanse".
While writing my thesis I touched upon topics such as the Hindu caste system and its caste marks, and other symbolic ways societies have of declaring someone different and an outcast. The population I worked with needed no socially imposed physically discerning marks to mark them as different. Their behaviours, abilities (or lack of) and appearances readily distinguished them from the "norm". And while I was not able to recognise that people from higher socio-economic strata necessarily fared better, I did realise that those from the lower echelons of Indian society certainly fared badly. Whether it was having stones thrown at them in some kind of brutal show of hostility or having family members ignore them, these children - and their immediate family members - were found to routinely suffer some form of discrimination.
Stigma, the word, implies a stain. I'm sure those of you who have read the book 'The Scarlet Letter' (1850) by Nathaniel Hawthorne have some insight into this. [Hester must wear an 'A' for adulteress embroidered on her clothing to mark her as someone who has breached social propriety.] So a stain, or an indelible mark, permanently embedded in your "character" sets you apart, marks you, and additionally sets you up as an example of what society can do to those who do not abide by its norms (no matter what the circumstances). A deterrent, if you will.
I want to talk about something more contemporary and home-hitting. In 2015, Bangalore, the more liberal populations are a society in flux. Notions of social propriety are questioned every day. People break barriers every day. The educated, widely read, western-culture influenced are victims of this change. Or maybe they are the perpetrators. There is no one age group for this lot. Though possibly fewer in number, they do exist in their 50s, 60s even perhaps, although largely they are probably between 20 and 45.
Taboo behaviours or more "foreign"ones such as dating and premarital sex are passe now. Marriage by choice and even "living in"has become more common. The practice of the arranged marriage has been relegated to the stricter, more conservative sectors and communities. As communities and religions spill over into each other or imbibe external influences, the conservative nature of the parent culture retreats into a blurry background. Most of us greet this with great enthusiasm and as symbolic of freedom from some kind of oppression. I do too. However, it is not the end of the matter.
Unfortunately this same freedom has instigated in others a kind of burning all-consuming resentment. Anger that women particularly have a new found social independence that leaves men out of control. The overly treatised Nirbhaya rape is case in point (seen India's Daughter?). The theory now is stated as a problem with the Indian male, and that he must change in order to adapt. Of course this has all kinds of implications for Indian society as a whole. Stigma as we knew it and as we once obeyed it is now being questioned,
One of the most annoying (that's putting it mildly) stigmas in Indian society has always been that of a divorcee. A woman in any condition of singlehood was always considered an oddity and has therefore earned stigmatising labels: spinster, widow, and the latest, divorcee. Of course, today society has become more accepting of all of these, but there is always the conviction that "something must be wrong with her!" In other words, a woman would not voluntarily want to be single. Even the widow who did not choose to be widowed is not spared in some communities - she "brought bad luck".. or was a "sumangali"(destined to bring death to her husband).
So beware the divorcee! She actually managed to not be a sumangali, managed to avoid spinsterhood, managed to get married and then chose to get divorced!
It is invariably a choice that a large population still cannot or will not understand. And hence the fear that comes with associating with the unknown factor: the divorced woman.
And let's say that that part has been accepted. Lo and behold that newly divorced woman is a mother! And - instead of going back to her parents' home (to become what, a daughter again?) - lives by herself with her children.
Now this is a whole different level of culturally unacceptable behaviour. The divorced, independent, single mother is a whole new breed that Indian society has no clue how to work with. And the cross she bears sometimes can be one pretty hard to bear.
There are all kinds of reactions. Several well-meaning, but misguided; others simply delusional; and still others a kind of disbelief and envy. Whatever the perception, she is the wearer of stigma. She is symbolic of the distasteful, the forbidden, the feared... that which tears at the very fabric of society. If she is tolerated at all, it is in brief snapshots wherein she is allowed her share in normalcy to a limited extent. But thankfully this is 2015, and there are are the wonderfully liberated minds that exist in urban Bangalore, and a single mother can hold her head as high as the most devout wife, and be as integral a part of society as she chooses to be.
Perhaps she cannot be a part of as many family-based activities as she would like. Perhaps she chooses not to be around married couples as much as she would have before. Perhaps she socialises with other single people more than she ever did before. Maybe her lifestyle changes substantially to sometimes confuse even her. She has her loneliness to contend with; her children to look after by herself. There is so much in this new life of hers that it becomes difficult to take notice of rejection or any lack of welcome or warmth in social circles she does not frequent anymore.
And sometimes... when she raises her head long enough to notice it... the absence of any meanness is stunning.
Today I find, regardless of my marital status or my living alone with my children, people only react to me as who I am. If I am strong, kind, loving and walk with a sense of purpose and a sense of humour... there is no one who will disrespect me or dislike me based on a socially imposed expectation or creation.
Stigma and I are friends.
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