While I had once believed that cultural heritage represented the roots of a community that held them together through shared histories and memories, my sentiment has recently been subject to change. I had viewed cultural heritage as those back-dated aspects of my life that seemed to follow me through changing times. However, I find now that cultural heritage isn’t something that necessarily holds an individual back. Instead, it is a never-ending map of generations that share a starting-point but continue to move forward.
Author Elena Franchi shares this idea as she writes, “it is also the result of a selection process: a process of memory and oblivion that characterizes every human society constantly engaged in choosing—for both cultural and political reasons—what is worthy of being preserved for future generations and what is not.” She expresses that the passage of time allows us to abandon ideologies that do not belong in the present without the guilt of leaving our cultural heritage behind. This is because we continue to appreciate the memories and simply evaluate for ourselves how we express our cultural heritage.
Born to immigrants who moved to America from Bangladesh in their 20’s, my Bengali culture has been infused with the American culture that was long envied by my parents. We continue to constantly listen to Bengali music, read Bengali poetry, and watch Bengali films. However, I believe that being raised here has given me the freedom to, as Franchi mentioned, “constantly [engage] in choosing.” One way that I have felt connected to my culture is through my gold nose ring. Almost like a rite of passage for girls in my family, the nose ring had once symbolized the marriage of a woman. However, over time, it has simply become a sign of womanhood—a choice that a girl made herself. This is one of the traditions that I value the most due to its ability to persist yet change with the times.
My religion and culture were also never forced upon me, which has allowed me to find its place in my life on my own. My family celebrates Eid and participates in Ramadan, which brings us closer together every year through shared meals and celebrations. We wear the cultural clothing that we would not wear otherwise, and we take the time to return to the heritage that often gets lost throughout the year. While each family definitely approaches these traditions differently, I believe that contributes to the beauty and appeal of culture. There are no rules or judgement. These times also allow us to bond with other families in our shared spaces, such as my local mosque, where we usually wouldn’t interact so frequently or freely. These aspects of our cultural heritage bring us closer together, but also closer to ourselves as we grow to understand where it fits in our lives.
I identify with your statement that religion and culture were not forced. Often, it is when we are forced to comply with a certain standard that it drives us even farther from what it is that is trying to be conveyed. The celebration of Eid is shared with my family and moments like that show me reasons why I should be involved with not only my culture but my religion. It is more likely that I would genuinely be involved with my identity and religion if compulsion is not present. Instead, it is important to seek that aspect of my life on my own instead of relying on someone to force it upon me.
I too wasn’t forced upon any culture or religion in my family, and I think that helped me explore my heritage for myself. I think an important takeaway I gained from your response was that to be a part of a culture, we don’t have to change ourselves to fit in or participate in every tradition. Every family’s perspective on culture differs, but the values stay constant.