Pakistanis pride themselves in their parenting skills and hands down they have perfected the craft. I have seen third or fourth-generation Pakistani children and usually they are well-behaved, well-spoken, and well-mannered. They respect their elders and are mindful of their surroundings in a social setting

The Relevance of Feminism for a South-Asian Woman in North America
By Faiza Zia Khan
Newport Beach, CA

 

For a modern woman living in North America with South-Asian heritage poses unique pressures and challenges.  In present-day an independent South-Asian woman feels certain constraints regardless of her education or upbringing. Throw in the word feminist with all of the above and a travesty has been placed in your hands.

In social gatherings, there have been instances where the words “feminist” or “feminism” are uttered in a room and the reactions are audibly black and white (keeping ethnicity aside).  I personally feel feminism is a concept that is almost always misunderstood.

The main allegation against the term feminism in our culture is that it is an "imported" or "Western" idea allowing limitless freedom to women. Hence, immediately negative connotations are attached to these terms. Silently it is considered to be irrelevant for South-Asian females as feminists are simply put - rebels!

I feel that the first and the most important problem with the “feminist” movement comes with the name/word itself. The definition of feminism denotes segregation between men and women. Intrinsically, the word “feminist” or “feminism” creates a wall, a category, or a serious divide between the sexes.

 I took to the neutral ground to find out the meaning of feminism. The Merriam-Webster definition of feminism is the belief that men and women should have equal rights and opportunities.  I feel this is where the conflict originates. The word “feminist” was created during a time when men and women did not have equal rights on any scale in the real world. I am not a huge fan of the word “feminist” because the very definition implies segregation.

It classifies the population into two groups, men and women. When we start categorizing the public into groups we start pointing out their differences. When differences are pointed out, there is judgment. As soon as judging and comparing starts problems occur on a whole different level. As females, we are more sensitive to noise around us. We hear our own friends and family boast about and compare girls of the family. There is conversation around grades, looks, and physical attributes that may or may not signal a promising future for the girl when she grows up.

As we get older, everything is up for comparison and judgment:  the career we embark on, the amount of money we make, the friends we have, the lives we show to the world on social media, and even the ones we choose as our significant others. The expectations are always rising; our self-worth, always plummeting. Are we ever enough? Would we ever measure up to the gold standards set by society?

While women from all backgrounds struggle with the above, these issues have persistently been more problematic for our ethnic demographic. There is the pressure to live up to the mainstream standards of female perfection in the Western world, but given our rich heritage there are also many cultural expectations to abide by. It amounts to a silent understanding that to be an acceptable young South-Asian woman in the US means to value others over your own self.

Most first-generation South-Asian women in North America during the 60s were primarily homemakers, as the males were highly educated, trained professionals excelling in successful fields. Fast forward to 2024 this role has revolutionized where South-Asian women are balancing lucrative careers, raising children, and have thriving social lives. This well-roundedness of South-Asian women did not miraculously appear, it came about with a steep learning curve for everyone involved.

These days there has been a monumental shift in understanding the role of a female in the South-Asian household. Modern day husbands allow their wives all kinds of autonomy to function as they deem fit. Parents raise their daughters to be educated, cultured, independent young women who can stand up for themselves. I know a lot of women who are running businesses, working in high-profile jobs, yet are omnipresent for their family and friends when needed. On the other end of the spectrum, I have also come across those females born and raised in North America who are entirely dependent on the male figures in their households. This inequality makes me wonder where the gap exists.

Pakistani families are very open to the education and academic enablement of their children. Additionally, they also take initiatives to get the kids involved in sports, community investment, learning different languages and musical instruments. Pakistanis pride themselves in their parenting skills and hands down they have perfected the craft. I have seen third or fourth-generation Pakistani children and usually they are well-behaved, well-spoken, and well-mannered. They respect their elders and are mindful of their surroundings in a social setting.

Pakistanis raise their kids to be independent. However, I have observed when it comes to certain situations around the female child there is an unsurpassed inflexibility. It blows my mind even to this day that some families will not allow their daughters to get a career/job of her own choosing. Parlay this into the future the same rules apply about finding a spouse. I have seen many sophisticated families butt heads over the career choices of their daughters and then later on for jobs and spouses. It is taboo if an unmarried girl moves out of her parental home for education or career possibilities. If the female child decides to take the matter in her own hands and take a stand to go against the parents’ wishes by following her free will - she is considered an outcast. Her feministic views are reprehensible. The parents are perplexed and mull over in regards to what happened in their parenting that created this “buttameez” (rude) person. Plus, we as a society are also burdened with the “Log kiya kahain gey” (what will people say?) syndrome.

We feel accountable at all times to those who surround us. We value the judgment they pass and worry more about how the situation will be perceived by others than our own wellbeing. The modern, independent, sophisticated South-Asian/Pakistani woman in North America may never completely win and the debate will never cease.

The burden we carry will not be lessened as time passes. We simply have to gracefully embrace it and elegantly rise above all odds to shine like a rare diamond that we truly are!

(Faiza Zia Khan holds a Master’s in Journalism degree from the University of British Columbia, Canada. She has collaborated with news media outlets including Global National and actively volunteers for several community investment projects for the Red Cross, United Way and the Breast Cancer Foundation)