Our Voices: I’ve always been an ‘outsider-within’ white educational systems.

When reminiscing on my journey through predominantly white educational institutions, for 20+ years of my life, I am reminded of insights and rude awakenings of my social position as a minority Kentuckian. I now recognize that the uncomfortable dissonance I felt in my educational experiences was merely due to my complexion.

I am a first-generation, biracial graduate student born and raised in the Bluegrass. My mother was born in Trinidad, an island in the Caribbean, which her parents migrated to from India. My father was born in Kentucky after his parents, having survived the Holocaust, fled from Poland to the U.S.

In my early years of education in rural Northern KY, I never noticed differences between my family and the community around us, even though in elementary and middle school, my sisters and I were the only students of color, and in high school, I was one of four non-white students. Oddly enough—and as I’m sure many can relate—I was not aware that I looked different from my schoolmates, friends, or teachers until others drew attention to my appearance. They were the ones who spotlighted that my sisters and I were “not the same.” I have memories of classmates slipping comments about my skin tone into lessons and making offensive gestures or sounds towards me, while snickering. Others began my mornings with remarks like, “Shouldn’t you still be working on the rice farms with your family?” These experiences made me want to fit in, with the hopes that I would no longer be under the majority’s microscope. So, since I was the “different one,” I suppressed my voice and uncomfortable feelings by laughing along with them.

My parents could not afford college for all five of their daughters, so I was determined to pave my path into higher education through good grades and scholarships. I was very fortunate to receive academic and diversity scholarships, which provided me with the life-changing opportunity to pursue education in Lexington. Once I left home to attend college, I was comforted to see different cultures and already felt welcomed into the community. Yet, this is not to say that my college life was a carefree walk in the park. I still faced distinct challenges as a minority within the majority. I was reminded of my unique appearance through uncomfortable gazes, others’ guesses about my country of origin, and additional unforeseen challenges as a woman of color navigating another predominantly white institution.

In college, I pursued studies in the social sciences, which not only awakened insights and sparked questions about my previous experiences, but also, opened my eyes to my social position as a minority woman. I am forever appreciative of the guidance and enlightenment I received from those who empathized with me, which was crucial for me in college, as halfway through high school, I had lost the greatest role-model, source of compassion, and support system in my life—my mother. It is the culmination of such painful experiences that has helped me find my voice and, with time, I have been energized to make it heard.

Now, as a Ph.D. student, I am on my final educational expedition in Kentucky and, once again, I find myself as an outsider-within. At first, I came to know the feelings of biting my tongue and second-guessing myself in discussions and seminars all too well. This made the — already isolating — journey of graduate school much more testing. Fortunately, I have found support through other inclusive and diverse colleagues and friends, within and outside of my graduate program, who I am eternally thankful for. If not for these encouraging mentors, I might have succumbed to self-critiques, tokenism or impostor syndrome. Rather, I have learned to use my voice as a means to uplift representation in spaces for others, along with myself.

I have come to understand that my position as a woman of color in society demands not only proving my worth with smiles and poise, but also vigilance, determination, and courage in all sorts of social interactions. I am inspired by advocates of empathy and role models of representation to not only assert my voice, but also to embrace and utilize my experiences as a source of compassion and social change for others.

I am grateful to be part of the “Our Voices” project, as it provided the ideal opportunity to communicate my story and assure other outsiders-within that they are not alone. This project recognizes depreciated individuals’ livelihoods, histories, and experiences in Kentucky by supporting their voices, which demonstrates that inclusion can be learned where it is wanted.

We, as social creatures, desire—and deserve the chance—to truly be heard by one another. I greatly appreciate your time spent acknowledging my voice. Now, tell me, how will you use your voice?

Rachel Barczak is a feminist, nature enthusiast, puppy parent, sociology PhD student, and graduate research assistant for the Center for Research on Violence Against Women at the University of Kentucky.

Our Voices: Written by your neighbors. Please respond like a good neighbor.