South Asian Heritage Month is a celebration of South Asian identities and cultures. This year’s theme, ‘Free to Be Me,’ prompted Sofia to reflect on her own complex sense of identity. Sofia shares her experience of growing up in Glasgow's South Asian community, struggling with her mixed-race background and the challenges of fitting into Scottish and Asian cultures.

Words and Illustrations by Sofia Abdul-Rehman

The South Asian Heritage Month was launched five years ago and aims to centre and celebrate South Asian identities, heritage, and cultures. This year’s theme, ‘Free to Be Me’, has made me ponder my own changing notions of identity and heritage. Growing up in Glasgow – one of the most multicultural corners of Scotland, with a thriving South Asian community – I never did encounter anyone like me or my siblings.

My parents married in the mid-90s. Although not a hugely long time ago, it might as well have been centuries ago when it came to attitudes surrounding mixed-race couples. My father is white and Scottish, and my mother is Asian and Scottish. My siblings and I are white-passing and were always met with confusion and ignorance. Standing next to our mother, we all carry some of her features, but not enough to have a complete picture of our heritage. So, we navigated the world around us feeling like an unfinished painting. We felt we were perceived as the other by both sides.

Negotiating my identity felt like traversing no-man’s land, with my past in a foreign country which I had only ever seen on the news. My present is in Scotland, a country where I felt like I belonged, but also where I was confronted with prejudice and questioning; never being fully accepted as Scottish or Asian, never being allowed to just be both. I felt I was constantly having to justify my existence.

My mother never passed down Punjabi, her mother tongue to us, so we were at odds with the other Asian kids at school. I could only access the Asian part of myself through my mother. Yet after being disowned by her own family, she consciously, or subconsciously, separated herself from aspects of her culture. The threads to my heritage were therefore tenuous. I relied on my mother to have access to my Asian culture and without her input and embodied knowledge, I felt like an imposter.

Being white-passing also meant that we never fit in. Looking white meant that our identities as Muslims were also always called into question. I think about the incredibly rich perspectives that you have with a mixed heritage. But I also think about what you lose. For me, there seems to be an inheritance of loss. I have gained a lot by having two cultures, but I have also lost a lot. I cannot speak my ‘mother tongue,’ thereby cutting off ways that I could access culture such as music and inherited knowledge. I have never been to my ‘motherland’, and we are not even entirely sure where exactly my family lived. It feels very hard for me to tangibly grasp aspects of my culture. I can’t even cook.

As the diaspora, we have this imagining of what ‘home’ is from our parents or grandparents who romanticise and long for their motherland. Yet for us, we are unable to go back ‘home’ due to the passing of time or change. The motherland is simply a construction in our imagination. It is said that immigrants lose their mother tongue within two generations, and I always think of the centuries when my family might have been speaking Punjabi and how this inherited knowledge is lost almost instantly. The tangible links back to the motherland become muddled and foreign with this loss.

My mixed-race identity was always something that I had questioned and explored. Yet it became even more of a focal point when I took part in the Our Shared Cultural Heritage (OSCH) programme. This was a youth-led programme which explored the shared histories between the UK and South Asia. It also aimed to provide ways for young Asians to become more involved in museums through exploring art and heritage. My end-of-project work specifically focused on the joys and frustration of navigating my mixed-race identity in Scotland.

I created a series of illustrated panels, taking inspiration from South Asian artists such as Manjit Thapp and Sabba Khan. The panels explore the emotions and pain, through colour and nature imagery. From being pigeonholed into rigid notions of identity to carving out a place of belonging for my siblings and me, where we can grow and flourish.

The panels show that despite rejection, othering, and prejudice, our existence is still valid and that we should celebrate the shared cultural bonds that tie us together. All of the paths taken have led to here. I end with the hope that the grand-children and great grand-children of those uprooted can belong and that despite being in the no-man’s land of two countries, cultures, and languages, we will always belong to each other.

South Asian Heritage Month will be taking place until 17 August. With a vibrant South Asian community in Govanhill, there are many organisations and charities which uplift and support South Asians and ethnic minorities. The Govanhill Baths are a community hub, involved in art, heritage, and wellbeing projects. They provide workshops such as sewing for the local communities often attended by women from South Asian backgrounds. MILK Café, located on Victoria Road is a social enterprise which provides support and free upskilling workshops for refugee and migrant women. AMINA, in nearby Pollokshields, is a charity which aims to empower Muslim women and highlight their lived experiences.