Charlotte Gill: “The idea that we’re fractional parts has racist beginnings”
The writer on passive passing, conflicting identities and youthful assertiveness
Hi, welcome back to Mixed Messages! This week I’m speaking to writer Charlotte Gill, who is of mixed white British and Punjabi Sikh heritage – a mirror image of my own background. Charlotte explores her identity in the hilarious but heartwarming Almost Brown, which reflects on the experiences of her globe-trotting childhood and the reaction to her parents’ interracial relationship from the wider family. It was fascinating to speak to Charlotte about her perspective, so dive in to her story below.
Can you tell me about your racial background?
My mother is white British, my father is of Punjabi Sikh descent. They met in London in the ‘60s when they were both in medical school. This was a time when it wasn’t so common for people to marry interracially, so I feel like a vintage biracial in a way.
Did you speak about your racial identity growing up?
We didn’t talk about race in my household at all. Occasionally we would reference the fact that my mother and father came from different cultural backgrounds.
I think there were a number of reasons for that, including that it was painful. When they got together there was a cascade of disasters. I don’t think it was well received in the family, especially on my father’s side, where adherence to the culture is so important.
There was friction and conflict, but my parents wanted to move forward. That’s why they migrated around so much, they wanted to look ahead.
I didn’t realise until I started talking to other mixed people how little race was discussed within our households. It was only in adulthood that I began to develop the vernacular for talking about being mixed, and then we had words like ‘multiracial,’ ‘multiethnic’ and ‘biracial,’ and I realised this was me. Before, I just knew I was different from other people and how I was received in the world was very contextual and dependent on who I was hanging out with.
Because it’s so fluid, I had no firm way of talking about my own identity until I met other people who spoke about these things.
What was it like to realise there was a category for you?
Relief. Sometimes when we don't have the words to describe an experience or form of existence it often feels as if it doesn’t exist. Finally I knew other people were asking the same questions, like ‘why are people asking me what I am all the time’ and ‘why is it up to the rest of the world to tell me what I am?’
I also felt imposter syndrome being partially white. I feel that’s also part of my identity that I wrestle with quite a bit, what it means to possess both sides of an identity that are very frequently in conflict with each other.
What does it mean to be white to you?
I thought a lot about what it means to be white passing versus what it means to be white and where the line is. Although part of me feels quite Indian – I grew up in a house with Indian parenting – I recognise that when I walk out into the world, no one will recognise that I am a brown person and they will pass me as white.
There’s a nuanced and layered way that people experience white passing. It’s often framed as an active verb, like you’re attempting to pass. In the US and possibly the UK and further afield, the act of passing had to do with survival and the economics of race. That’s a painful history, but there’s also a passive component to it. When I walk into the world and have passed as white involuntarily, what does that mean and how is it different?
I have quite a strong desire to be seen as Indian – do you feel the same?
When you have to assert your cultural identity, it’s both a wonderful thing to be celebrated and also a weight of constantly having to try instead of just being able to have your internal identity coincide with your phenotype.
It’s very contextual, it depends on who’s doing the looking. When I was younger, I didn't feel I had a right to assert that part of my identity. That’s changed now, largely because of my contact with younger people who are loud and proud about their heritage. They say “it’s both, not half – it’s all of us.”
In Canada, I say I’m half-white and half-Indian a lot because people understand it, but that’s not how I feel inside. I feel like the two are constantly intermingling and blending. In some situations I feel more British and white, then in others I feel more Indian.
What differences do you see between the generations?
I think younger generations are much braver. When someone asks “what are you” or says “I don’t think of you as Indian,” they’re offended and say “you don’t have to answer that question.” They get mad on my behalf. They're more assertive, they know exactly who they are. That’s really inspiring.
I also hear a lot of people talking about being mixed in a therapeutic light, as if there's trauma to be healed. This is totally new to me and I'm sort of reckoning with what that means. I don’t think we’re broken as mixed people. These ideas that we’re fractional parts of our parents or two halves in need of reconciliation comes from racist beginnings.
You can't talk about race without talking about where all these concepts came from. Sometimes I can’t believe we still talk about pigment as some sort of species identifier.
What’s the best thing about being mixed for you?
A lot of mixed people I’ve talked to say one of the real blessings is that they’ve been totally immersed into different cultures. That's one of the great gifts of my parentage.
I'm really fascinated by how that trickles down into these deep ways of self identification. What does it mean to be a brown and white person in the context of living in the UK, when one was the coloniser and one was the colonised and you have to sit in this uncomfortable place? I’ve become more comfortable sitting in those uncomfortable places.
Can you sum up your mixed experience in one word?
Normal. It’s a detriment if people consider themselves to be just white because actually their backgrounds are more complicated. There's no way we could have existed for millions of years on this planet without mixing.
Buy Almost Brown here. Next week, I’ll be talking to artist, designer and historian Warren Reilly. Subscribe to get Mixed Messages in your inbox on Monday.
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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.
Really enjoyed this - thank you - practical understated and precise. Mixed race myself and find something I recognise in this column/ stack - on every post. It’s affirming and engages a part of me that can go for months negated or smothered by work environments or interpersonal relationships. I’m 54 and find the people that I am closest to on a spiritual emotional level. Other people who are mixed race of a similar race to me and they are like Jewels. I am constantly white washed by white people. It’s left a legacy and I really identify with being vintage next race - beautifully put.