In all of my high school Socratic seminars or discussions, I’m haunted subconsciously by these thoughts every time I speak: “Oh look, she’s talking,” or “There’s the girl who never keeps her mouth shut.”
The fear of others listening with a judgmental and dismissive attitude towards my input constantly puts into question the validity of my voice and narrative. In my freshman year, I felt the vexed gaze of male classmates, and in my sophomore year, a classic anonymous Pine View Instagram account called me out for “never shutting up.” In my junior and senior year, I’ve made an effort to overlook the existence of these attitudes, but as much as I’d love to regard all of these things as white background noise, as much as I’d love to be above it all — the insecurity of others judging me for simply speaking up in an English class seminar has consistently lurked in my head.
To make matters worse, I’ve realized how this insecurity is magnified every time I speak about my own experiences as a racial minority. When my literature class recently discussed how the standard of Whiteness is upheld within the setting of Toni Morrison’s novel, “Beloved,” our discussion was carried further into modern-day societal contexts. Thus, I shared my personal experience with whitening soap and the push for whitened complexions in Asian culture. Yet, immediately after sharing this, I dove into a pool of anxious regret, spending the whole day contemplating whether I should’ve exposed this piece of my vulnerability to the class.
After venting to my fellow Torchies about it — some of whom were in that class — they provided me with reassurance, affirming that my shared thoughts were not uncalled for, dramatic or minimal. One of my peers even commented on how my input had educated them. Seemingly, I had over-internalized my insecurity to the point where I believed that everyone listening was irritated by what I had to say. To add on, POC friends deeply related to the uneasiness that I felt in class discussions when sharing my story as a minority in primarily white classroom settings. We found common ground in the specific instances of pressure felt from classmates, such as the small smirks and suppressant laughs, that never left our memories, causing us to be overly cognizant of what we share now.
Understand that I’m not asking my classmates to change their behaviors or how much they care for in-class discussions. Inevitably, there will always be people who are close-minded, ignorant or irked by any other perspective that deviates from their own. Whether or not those people exist, I have every right to be unapologetic when it comes to sharing my thoughts, experience or identity. In other words, this article is meant to be cathartic for myself and to call out to fellow minorities and eager talkers in Socratic seminars with a hand of comfort and reassurance. Understand that your narrative is valued if you do decide to share it. When I speak on behalf of my culture, I obviously cannot speak for the entirety of Asian American demographics, but sharing my unique experience certainly allows for broadened perspectives for the ones who decide to listen.
To put it simply, as a message to myself and to others like me: your voice matters. Do not feel guilt or shame in sharing your culture if you do decide to add to class discussions. Your authenticity is valued, as it generates paths for fruitful discourse and diversified lenses. You do not talk too much.