Ciaran Thapar: “I never felt isolated, one of my cultures was always in reach”
Ciaran Thapar: “I never felt isolated, one of my cultures was always in reach”
The writer on changing borders, conversations around race and leveraging life-long pondering
Hi, welcome back to Mixed Messages! This week, I’m speaking to author and journalist Ciaran Thapar, who is of mixed-Punjabi and British heritage. I’ve known of Ciaran for a long time now, through his youth work, his incredible debut book on youth violence Cut Short and his journalism focusing on urban communities, British multiculturalism and underground music. Now, Ciaran writes All City on Substack, and is working on an upcoming memoir which I will be first in line to read. With the same background as me, it was fascinating to hear the journey Ciaran has been on when it comes to identifying himself – read his story below.
How do you define your identity?
I've always considered myself mixed-race or mixed heritage. I would say British Punjabi, because my white side is a mix of Irish and English. I would have said Indian rather than Punjabi when I was younger, but I don’t really identify with being Indian anymore, with the state of Indian identity and politics. The brown side of my identity, if you can be as crude as that, feels more Punjabi than ever.
I don't want to make out as if I never identify as being Indian – I do. Depending on the situation, it’s a simple way to communicate to someone what the broad stroke is.
What shifted your perception on calling yourself Indian?
I’m planning my memoir about growing up mixed British-Punjabi on the Thames in London. My wife Yasmin is also half-Punjabi, but from the Pakistan side, so over the last few years we’ve learned about the history of Partition together.
Researching that history has been a real journey for us, realising that our grandparents would have coexisted in neighbouring cities before 1947. So by saying Punjabi, rather than Indian or Pakistani, we’re saying that we don’t accept the borders and its labels that were created. Putting the Punjabi label on it has helped us to find common ground.
How did you connect to your culture growing up?
I’m a product of this phenomenon that has been taking place over the last 50 years of West London’s Punjabi community panning outwards. People landed in Hounslow and Southall, which was the nucleus in the ‘50s and ‘60s, then moved out toward the home counties as they started to become more class ascendent and earn more. I grew up in the middle, which is Surrey but also a Heathrow satellite town.
As a child, I had it in my head that every weekend we’d see one set of grandparents. So I’m either going to Southall, which is the purest way of me connecting with that culture, experiencing food, smells and fireworks, or I'm going out to Hampshire and having a Sunday roast, which is a very different experience. I would ponder that a lot as a child.
Then going to school in Kingston, my school was at least half South Asian with people from all over the continent. I really got to explore my identity across that population. I was very sporty as a teenager, so I played rugby in the winter, which felt quite white British, then cricket in the summer, where the majority of people in my team were Asian. There’s always been this interplay between both sides. I never felt too isolated, one of my cultures was always in reach.
Did you ever have a conversation with your family about being mixed?
The conversation has been more in the last ten years, in an explicit sense. My parents were really good at talking about it. Their generation had a different language and there was a lot that wasn’t talked about, but it was very present in my home. There were conversations between me and my two younger sisters. It was impossible not to talk about my identity when I was at school. It was a daily interplay of figuring stuff out, and I brought that home.
When I was about seven, I went to this summer camp where this boy just kept calling me P*ki. He wasn’t doing it maliciously, he thought that was my name, so I just took it. We were friends, I hung out with him the whole time. On the last day, one of the staff members heard him say it, and asked me about it in front of my mum. I hid it, so I knew it was wrong. I couldn’t find the language to explain to my mum what had happened. That was a very formative moment in my life. If that hadn't happened, lots of things would be different. I started to suddenly see the Surrey veneer of white elitism and subtle microaggressions.
You’ve spoken before about feeling like you’re straddling two worlds – has your sense of self been a journey?
It’s definitely been a journey, it’s never-ending. The consistent thing is that I've never not been interested in it. I like writing, reading and pondering things.
How has being mixed impacted your career as a youth worker?
Working in South London, where people are from all different walks of life and backgrounds, people might understandably have hesitations about outsiders. I’m perceived racially different to different people – when I’ve got a short haircut with a shape up, people sometimes think I’m half-Black.
Looking racially ambiguous means that even if I turn up speaking a certain way, clearly not being from the local community, I’m able to blend in. Being well-versed in racial politics means I can navigate those spaces. A lot of people are scared to talk about race, I'm really not.
Part of that is because of that experience I had when I was a kid, I've been thinking about it for so long. It’s been a strength actually, a blessing to leverage that in a useful way.
What’s the best thing about being mixed for you?
The benefit of being able to tap into two disparate cultures, doing that authentically with a real sense of history. I can drive to my grandma’s place and have long conversations with her about her English heritage. The only reason I've been able to have that or even think to ask is looking at the history of partition. It’s a privilege to dip into both those things.
When your two parents are from very different places, you get the chance to go on a journey to both those different destinations, whether that’s physically travelling there or philosophically learning about these two different ways of thinking.
Can you sum up your mixed experience in one word?
Blessing. I’m grateful for it, I consider it a blessing. It gives me so much food for thought.
Next week, I’ll be speaking to author Bernardine Evaristo. Subscribe to get Mixed Messages in your inbox on Monday. Shop Mixed Messages on Etsy now!
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Mixed Messages is a weekly exploration of the mixed-race experience, from me, Isabella Silvers. My mom is Punjabi (by way of East Africa) and my dad is white British, but finding my place between these two cultures hasn’t always been easy. That’s why I started Mixed Messages, where each week I’ll speak to a prominent mixed voice to delve into what it really feels like to be mixed.