Mayssa Chehata Blog #2: Categories, Division, Stereotype, and Me

Where are you from? What an interesting question. Having features and a skin color that is different from typical Caucasian, this is a question I am very accustomed with. Sometimes it comes straight out upon meeting someone, sometimes it is tip-toed around as though I would be offended by the question, and sometimes it comes as an assumption. “Are you Indian?” “Are you Latina?” In any case, it is a question people ask, whether out loud or in their heads. People are so interested in asking it because the answer is the key that will help with our constant categorization and compartmentalizing of one another. Does this person fit into this category? Or that one? Should I think of them as an us? Or as a them? This is why the question is so important.

It is also often times an area of fascination. People are really interested in learning more about you and where you come from. It is what makes us different that makes us beautiful, so learning more about our differences really brings us together. I truly believe this, but it can also make way for stereotyping. Stereotyping is more often than not sub-conscious, but it happens none the less. Sometimes it is immediate, when the separation of a person into a group can be done based on physical characteristics. This person is part of this group, so they are friendly, or dangerous, or soft-spoken, or cheap, etc. However in my case, it takes the question to form put me into the category, and it’s interesting how that process can go. Of course I base my evidence on assumptions, because I cannot know what people are thinking, but I know that my dad, who is also racially ambiguous (as I have been deemed as by my peers, not that it is good or bad, it just is), gets much different looks at the airport if he has grown a full bear versus if he is clean shaven.

I see it happen all the time, as a change in expression or demeanor. Not only with me but with other people as well. When someone has already placed you into some group, and you tell them you are not part of that group, they have to change their mental schemas completely.

To answer where I am from, both of my parent and all my ancestors are from the North African state of Tunisia. Tunisia has been home to Berbers and various nomadic tribes, part of the Roman Empire, occupied by Vandals, Byzantines, and Arabs; part of the Ottoman Empire, a French colony, and finally a (somewhat) independent nation. I consider myself a Tunisian-American. Some consider Tunisia part of the Middle East while others call it part of Africa. We are, for the most part, considered ethnically Arab (hence my father’s beard issues at the airport), and a predominantly Muslim country.

The question of “where are you from” seems so simple, yet is so complicated. I answer it often with little though, but how is my answer affecting the way I am perceived in the world? What are the consequences of our answers? What are the consequences of asking the question? What if people felt no need to ask the question, and we considered ourselves to all be from earth? All questions I don’t have answers to, but hope to explore further.