As a student who had always studied on scholarship money, I always envied the kids that paid their way through. They weren’t free-riding as I seemingly was. They were paying for the knowledge being imparted and so they fully deserved the right to be there. The point was driven home during the second semester of university when I was sitting on the lawn munching on carrot sticks. A friend innocently claimed the reason I had been granted the funding which had made my four-year academic endeavor cost me next to nothing was solely the fact that I carried a Nepali passport. Of course, the college probably enjoyed waving one more national flag in its courtyard. So even while I realized there was a kernel of truth to her statement, I still took offense.
One tiny bit flustered, I was also slightly guilt-ridden; the circle of us friends had been discussing the size of loans each had signed up to in order to make college a possibility. Studying on a full-scholarship meant I didn’t have my own lament to share, but I attempted to defend myself. Sure, I was Nepali and that probably made me appealing to the admissions team, but I also weakly rattled off my high school accomplishments and awards. I was eager to prove I wasn’t a charity case and that I truly deserved the financial aid.
Over the course of my time there I made a point to prove to myself, perhaps even more than to anyone else who dared doubt my right to thousands of dollars in scholarship. I signed up for more credits per semester than was advisable and every day I worked hard to earn my right to be on campus. It was important to me that my college peers didn’t view me as yet another international student there simply because of her nationality. I wanted my time there to be an evidence of the fact that I belonged there as much as they did.
It slowly dawned on me then that I just could not afford to do the bare minimum. In fact, even the average was not good enough. As a minority student, that too on such a huge scholarship, I felt I needed to outdo myself. Only it soon became obvious that I was trying much too hard, taking on more than was necessary and feeling the kind of pressure no one but I myself had put upon me.
In recent years it’s occurred to me that while the fully funded student in me felt the need to be the above average student I was barely capable of being, perhaps it’s the same kind of compulsion that drives the minorities to push themselves in all kinds of situations.
Take the female staff in your office. Chances are, she belongs there much as much as her male colleagues—her resume, report writing and business acumen attest to that. Yet, day in and day out she probably feels the need to demonstrate that she wasn’t hired just to fill the quota. Perhaps you’ve noticed her working late more nights than necessary, pushing herself harder than needed. Women who work and want equal part at the round table tell me they give it their 110 percent. This isn’t to say men don’t, but to suggest that equally intelligent and capable women are still being doubted, by their peers as much as by themselves. The same is true for Dalits, differently-abled, young adults and a whole host of other groups.
Like a female in a male-dominated setting, the minority is often under the pressure to perform. The individual is likely under the impression that they have to prove their right to sit in the classroom, lead the group or make the presentation. Furthermore, they may even take on the responsibility of representing their particular social group—voluntarily or not. When present as a member of a minority group, it is imperative that a positive image be portrayed on behalf of the whole group. After all, human nature means we will judge the entire group based on our impression of one, albeit it’s a mammoth task for that individual to live up to the high expectations.
This is perhaps why such individuals are driven in the way that they are to overachieve by overcompensating, with the desire to detach themselves from whatever stigma is attached—that a woman is less capable or that an international student is undeserving of financial aid.
While on one hand the passion and the drive pushes one to an all new level of motivation, it also denies the minority representative the right to just be. Not just be average, but to be themselves, without being forced to negotiate what the tag of being in the minority may mean.
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