Is There a Right Way to Ask ‘Where Are You from’?
By Abbir Dib
In the back seat of my Uber, I notice the driver peering at me through the rearview mirror, his eyes squinting with interest. “Where are you from?” he asks. I answer quickly in the hope he returns his gaze to the busy city road.
“Oh I was sure you were Sri Lankan,” he says. I smile politely. “You know Middle Eastern women,” he continues, “are some of the most exotic in the world.”
For those at the receiving end of these questions, there is often a lack of good manners when people converse about race. iStocknone
I am a walking game of “guess the ethnicity”. Strangers strike up a conversation by asking a variation of “what are you?” at least four times a week. The curiosity is understandable – humans are inherently fascinated by each other’s walks of life. But as someone at the receiving end of these questions, there is often a lack of good manners when people converse about race.
If someone looks different, why not ask for more details? Maybe they can teach you something about their culture? Maybe we can have an interesting chat? These are the common responses I hear from people who ask “where are you from?” I’ve personally never begun a conversation by asking someone their ethnicity, frankly because I’d rather get to know them first.
Firstly, it’s bizarre to start a conversation with a question based on someone’s appearance or name. You saw that I didn’t have Eurocentric features, I didn’t have a common name, and now you feel entitled to ask why. It’s not an enticing conversation. If you walked up to an old person and said, “wow, you’re wrinkly, how old are you?” that would be considered rude.
Another fan-favorite is the guessing game. “We’ve been betting money on your nationality,” a waiter says, gesturing to his co-worker as I go to pay for my lunch. I try to tap my card, but he persists. “He reckons you’re Italian,” he points, “and I think Moroccan.” I respond with an answer just to escape. “Nah no way,” the first waiter responds. He follows me out of the store to express his disbelief.
I would enjoy the game more if “guess the ethnicity” was played with everyone, but it’s mostly used to objectify people of color.
Secondly, people’s response to my ethnicity gives me a good indication of the intention of the question. People say rogue comments when I tell them where my parents are from. “Oh sorry, it’s terrible what happened over there.” I stress how beautiful the country is. Trying to justify the country as not merely a place of torment. If someone shared their Irish heritage, I wouldn’t bring up the Potato Famine.
“So that’s your natural hair then wow,” is a common response, which leaves me wondering if they only asked because I have ‘interesting’ hair. Sometimes “you speak so clearly”, assuming I recently immigrated, despite being born in Australia. And it always tickles me when people begin sharing their favorite Middle Eastern restaurants. If someone shared their British heritage with me, I would not begin listing my favorite pubs serving bangers and mash.
Aside from people who use the question to then make sexual comments, I believe most people don’t intend to be invasive, they’re just curious. And that’s why it’s such an awkward question to navigate. It means I find myself working overtime to diffuse the awkwardness. This routine becomes tiring when you’re asked almost every day.
The thing is, I love sharing my culture with people who have a genuine interest. But it’s pretty rare an interesting conversation arises when people ask me point-blank where I’m from, or insist on sharing their stereotypes about that culture.
So, how should you ask where someone is from?
It’s not a taboo topic, but with any conversation, there are clues to when it’s appropriate to ask personal questions. Just like asking for details about your new co-worker’s sexual orientation would be a really weird ice-breaker in the office meeting. The best way to learn about someone’s ethnicity is to wait for it to come up in conversation.
Recently I met a girl at a party, after some small talk she said she was missing her mum’s cooking since moving out of home. When she was describing the meals which were nostalgic I asked “if you don’t mind me asking, what’s your nationality?” She was happy to talk about her culture and the connection she feels with her ancestors. If you have a true interest in a culture, the person you are speaking to will sense, and appreciate it.
For those thinking “oh you can’t ask anything these days”, this is not a case of political correctness but rather good manners.
And if you’re wondering where I’m from?
Maybe if you ask me the right way, I’ll tell you. – The Age
