Genealogy of Shame
Yesterday, I started to type out my family's genealogy, starting at my great-grandparents. Within two minutes, I was frustrated -- frustrated over the lack of details including the absence of key names, dates and locations. Part of me wanted to give up and exclaim to you two children that, "Sorry, our genealogy begins with just your Nana and Nani. We'll build it from there!" Yet, my desire to continue prevailed, to somehow piece together the scanty details and display some sort of hodgepodge lineage. It seems like a frustratingly daunting task. I will try to complete it somehow.
I once asked my parents why they have pathetic records in terms of their own family (I phrased it much more respectful than that). They explained that East-Indians usually don't keep such details, as it is considered intrusive and rude to ask your elders where you came from. Maybe I've become too "Western" but that seems like a ridiculous reason not to disclose your mother's name to your children! I do admire your Daddy's family, on how they possess a book on their family's genealogy. What a gift to pass along to you!
But, maybe there are other reasons for not knowing about your ancestors. Your Nana & Nana were born at the beginning and end of World War II, respectively. Furthermore, your Nana's early years were spent during the latter part of British rule in India, which included the bloody conflict over partitioning India, eventually resulting in Pakistan, India and Bangladesh. On top of all this, both my parents were raised in Christian families (only 2.3% of India's population is considered Christian, according to the Census of India (2001), most of which are situated in Southern India. Your Nana & Nani are from the North.). This probably was enough turmoil and uncertainty to keep one's mouth shut about where you came from!
However, I think there is another reason as well. Shame. Yes, shame. Shame is simply defined as the fear of disconnection according to Brene Brown (check out Brene Brown's TED Talk on the "Power of Vulnerability". Thank C. for the insight and link -- I need to read "Daring Greatly"!) Shame is different from guilt. The two concepts are not interchangeable. Consider Brown's words in her blog post "shame v. guilt":
Back to my very less than ideal genealogy. I believe that some people in my extended family don't want to talk about where they came from because their stories are wrought with pain and fear and shame. There are a whole host of broken relationships present, between spouses, between children, between parents. And it seems like nobody wants to talk about it. Nobody. Because right now it is all conveniently "hidden". After all, if we don't confess it, it doesn't exist. And if it doesn't exist, we look perfect from the outside. Honor remains intact even though everyone is aware of the shame. Broken relationships continue. Vulnerability is avoided. Grace isn't given the opportunity to heal the festering wounds.
So, so, sad.
Yet I feel convicted. There are relationships that I've cut off in my extended family because I was lied to. I demanded honesty. Silence and a broken relationship was the answer. I failed to realize the monumental amount of shame this person has experience, personally, through her community and even within her family. While I am aware of my shame-honor ethnicity, I haven't experience it as acutely since I grew up surrounded by people of European descent in the prairies. My relative is a urban dweller, living in a strong ethnic community. Lately, I have been feeling the urge to seek reconciliation. Not to minimize the hurt I experienced through her dishonesty, but to see the hurt she has lived through. Because in many ways, I did exactly what her culture feared I would: I rejected her (even though that was not my intention at all).
In spite of the fact that my genealogy is full of gaps and imperfections, maybe the process of piecing it together will bring the pain to the surface so the cleansing nature of love and grace can prevail. It will require vulnerability on my part. But I will do it for your sake and for the sake of grace.
I once asked my parents why they have pathetic records in terms of their own family (I phrased it much more respectful than that). They explained that East-Indians usually don't keep such details, as it is considered intrusive and rude to ask your elders where you came from. Maybe I've become too "Western" but that seems like a ridiculous reason not to disclose your mother's name to your children! I do admire your Daddy's family, on how they possess a book on their family's genealogy. What a gift to pass along to you!
But, maybe there are other reasons for not knowing about your ancestors. Your Nana & Nana were born at the beginning and end of World War II, respectively. Furthermore, your Nana's early years were spent during the latter part of British rule in India, which included the bloody conflict over partitioning India, eventually resulting in Pakistan, India and Bangladesh. On top of all this, both my parents were raised in Christian families (only 2.3% of India's population is considered Christian, according to the Census of India (2001), most of which are situated in Southern India. Your Nana & Nani are from the North.). This probably was enough turmoil and uncertainty to keep one's mouth shut about where you came from!
However, I think there is another reason as well. Shame. Yes, shame. Shame is simply defined as the fear of disconnection according to Brene Brown (check out Brene Brown's TED Talk on the "Power of Vulnerability". Thank C. for the insight and link -- I need to read "Daring Greatly"!) Shame is different from guilt. The two concepts are not interchangeable. Consider Brown's words in her blog post "shame v. guilt":
I believe that there is a profound difference between shame and guilt. I believe that guilt is adaptive and helpful – it’s holding something we’ve done or failed to do up against our values and feeling psychological discomfort.
I define shame as the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing that we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging – something we’ve experienced, done, or failed to do makes us unworthy of connection.
I don’t believe shame is helpful or productive. In fact, I think shame is much more likely to be the source of destructive, hurtful behavior than the solution or cure. I think the fear of disconnection can make us dangerous.We all experience shame. However, some cultures are more susceptible to shame than others. These cultures can be defined as shame-honor cultures. While Westerners experience shame in reference to themselves, "Asian shame is intricately tied to the fear of rejection and loss of both familial and cultural community support," (Louis, S. (2014). Asian Shame and Honor.) East-Indian culture is best described as a shame-honor culture, where one person's wrong action not only dishonors oneself, but the whole family. No wonder people of my ethnic background hide things and lie to save face!
Back to my very less than ideal genealogy. I believe that some people in my extended family don't want to talk about where they came from because their stories are wrought with pain and fear and shame. There are a whole host of broken relationships present, between spouses, between children, between parents. And it seems like nobody wants to talk about it. Nobody. Because right now it is all conveniently "hidden". After all, if we don't confess it, it doesn't exist. And if it doesn't exist, we look perfect from the outside. Honor remains intact even though everyone is aware of the shame. Broken relationships continue. Vulnerability is avoided. Grace isn't given the opportunity to heal the festering wounds.
So, so, sad.
Yet I feel convicted. There are relationships that I've cut off in my extended family because I was lied to. I demanded honesty. Silence and a broken relationship was the answer. I failed to realize the monumental amount of shame this person has experience, personally, through her community and even within her family. While I am aware of my shame-honor ethnicity, I haven't experience it as acutely since I grew up surrounded by people of European descent in the prairies. My relative is a urban dweller, living in a strong ethnic community. Lately, I have been feeling the urge to seek reconciliation. Not to minimize the hurt I experienced through her dishonesty, but to see the hurt she has lived through. Because in many ways, I did exactly what her culture feared I would: I rejected her (even though that was not my intention at all).
In spite of the fact that my genealogy is full of gaps and imperfections, maybe the process of piecing it together will bring the pain to the surface so the cleansing nature of love and grace can prevail. It will require vulnerability on my part. But I will do it for your sake and for the sake of grace.