Social Identity Labels

Every second passed and it felt as though more wood was added to my ignited anger. I clenched my teeth and my fingers curled around the pencil. I had to leave before I erupted and blurted out something I did not mean. I darted up the stairs and took a deep breath. I’ll never be able to dress decently like all my friends. Frustration was a problem for me and it still is. Especially, when it comes to my mother’s disapproval on the way I dress. As I grew older, the realization for embracing my uniqueness grew from my teacher and from my social life. While many people struggle between the desire to be unique or to fit social identity labels, my struggle is a bit more difficult. I do not think I have the luxury of being unique. For me, there are two social identity labels of which I can never fit either perfectly. When “social” doesn’t just refer to one society, the struggle to develop an identity that is unique of both is difficult.
Every day in the morning it is difficult to choose an outfit that will please my
I knew exactly what she was going to say, and the words replayed in my head. Not too long after I heard the perfect tone and words coming from my mother’s mouth: “Where’s your scarf?” I tried to keep myself calm in such situations. Anger was boiling deep within my system. I had to leave before I erupted and said something I did not mean. I darted up the stairs, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath.
Modesty is a word that haunts me every day. Conservative ideals are what dominate our Bengali culture, and modesty is preached as the ultimate ideal along with our manner of dress and demeanor. Strangely enough, it only seemed to affect the females. Never mind the fact that I had no memories of Bangladesh, I was expected to behave as the perfect Bengali child. But what do I say to my friends who ask me why I’m bundled in a scarf in the sweltering July