Growing Up Indian in Australia Editor, Aarti Betigeri, spills the beans

‘Indian-Australian’ is not a one-size-fits-all descriptor. Given the depth and richness of diversity of the Indian subcontinent, it is fitting that its diaspora is similarly varied.

Growing Up Indian in Australia reflects and celebrates this vibrant diversity. It features contributions from Australian-Indian writers, both established and emerging, who hail from a wide range of backgrounds, religions and experiences.

This colourful, energetic anthology offers reflections on identity, culture, family, food and expectations, ultimately revealing deep truths about both Australian and Indian life.

The book is edited by Aarti Betigeri, with contributions by Sunil Badami, Swagata Bapat, Kavita Bedford, Elana Benjamin, Tejas Bhat, Nicholas Brown, Michelle D’Souza, Tasneem Chopra, Hardeep Dhanoa, Rakhee Ghelani, Shaheen De Souza Hughes, Rachael Jacobs, Jessica Joseph, Joseph Jude, Sukhjit Kaur Khalsa, Meenal Khare, Sneha Lees, Daizy Maan, Preeti Maharaj, Kavita Ivy Nandan, Kishor Napier-Raman, Mia Pandey Gordon, Zoya Patel and Ikebal Patel, Natasha Pinto, Shamna Sanam, Priya Sarat Chandran, Shreya Tekumalla and Sharon Verghis.

We asked Aarti Betigeri pertinent questions as the book hits the bookshelves this July.

Compiled by Nidhi Kumari

Was there a specific moment or experience that triggered the idea for Growing Up Indian in Australia? What inspired you to compile the anthology?

The book was actually commissioned by Black Inc, as part of their series of ‘Growing Up’ anthologies, that began about 17 years ago with ‘Growing Up Asian In Australia’, edited by Alice Pung. Since then, there has been ‘Growing Up Aboriginal’, ‘Growing Up Country’, amongst others.

However a few years ago I did consider pitching a ‘Growing Up Indian’ or ‘South Asian’ anthology, but thought, no one’s ever going to commission that! So I was really pleased and excited when Black Inc came to me, as I knew that such a book would be valued and embraced by the Indian-Australian community, and would be read with interest by the wider Australian book reading community to get some insights into our unique experiences.

The extract mentions that ‘Indian-Australian’ is not a one-size-fits-all descriptor. How did you ensure that the anthology captures the diverse voices and experiences of the Indian diaspora in Australia? How did you go about selecting the contributors for this anthology?

Anyone who knows the South Asian diaspora knows just how diverse it is! Just by virtue of that diversity, I knew that the identities of writers would be different from one another. Writers responded to an open call to submit pieces, and I also approached a number of established and emerging writers I knew to have unique perspectives. I knew that I wanted particular identities to be represented, and also certain subject matter to be explored. There was one criteria: to meet the ‘growing up in Australia’ qualification, the writers had to have attended at least some years of school here.

I selected contributions based on just two factors: one was achieving a good mix, and the other was merit. There were some pieces that were written really well that I would have liked to include, but travelled over the same subject matter as other pieces. I liked pieces that had a distinct topic, theme or point of view. One that comes to mind here is Tejas Bhat’s ‘A Brahmin’s Crossroads’, which combines religion with a coming-of-age story.

The contributions actually surprised me: they revealed far greater diversity in the community than I had even known. As it turns out, more people than I knew have Indian heritage and feel strongly about those ties. In particular, there were numerous submissions from Anglo-Indians expressing the unique identity crisis of feeling brown on the inside, but being white-passing.

Were there any particular stories or voices you felt were essential to include?

I felt it was essential to represent the wide array of religions that are contained in India – this turned out to be fairly easy, in the end! There are submissions discussing experiences from the perspectives of Sikhs, Hindus, Christians, Muslims, and even that of a Baghdadi Jew whose parents and grandparents grew up in Bombay.

Given that I expect a large part of the readership would be teenagers and young adults, I knew that sexuality should be represented, so it was essential to me that the LGBTQIA+ community was included. One of the standout essays is ‘Painted’ by Shreya Tekumalla, about coming to terms with his gender identity.

With a large part of the Australian-Indian population made up of Fijian-Indians, I wanted to be sure that people who are Indian but come from a third country – whether it be Fiji, or South Africa, or Malaysia, or elsewhere – knew that they were included in the ‘Indian’ umbrella.

The book touches on themes like identity, culture, family, food, and expectations. Were there any themes that emerged as particularly dominant or surprising as you compiled the contributions?

The predominant theme that runs through virtually all of the essays is that of identity: for many second-generation (and even first-generation) migrants, the feeling of being caught between two cultures and not belonging in either is a common one. Many essays describe that wrench of not feeling Australian enough, nor being able to identify with being Indian.

Racism is also a key theme, with many of the essays openly discussing the impact of racism on their lives and outlooks.

Another theme is family and community, and how much these ties are cherished.

Can you share any specific stories or essays from the book that particularly left a lasting impact?

So many of them have left a lasting impression! It’s hard to pick out just a few.

Michelle Cahill, who is an established poet and writer, writes to a sophisticated level, and we’re really lucky to have her piece, called ‘A Chutney Alphabet of Anglo-Indian Spells’.

Sharon Verghis’ essay, ‘A Tale of Three Beaches’, traces her Sydney life via its beaches and resonated really strongly with me. Having spent a lot of time in similar situations and in the places mentioned, I can relate to it.

Kavita Nandan has written a piece called ‘Light Refracts’ about how she wants to celebrate Diwali – but doesn’t actually know how to. I can relate – my family didn’t really celebrate Diwali but I’d like to do it, now that I’m a mother, and have had to make up our own rituals.

Nicholas Brown, who is an actor, wrote ‘Brown and Out’ about coming out of the closet and embracing his gay identity. His piece is really open and frank, which I appreciate, because so many of us self-censor out of fear of being judged. But I can foresee so many young people reading his essay and feeling a weight lifted from their shoulders.

Natasha Pinto, who is a Melbourne musician, wrote about her parents and of their small acts of sacrifice and struggle as new migrants, in her piece ‘When I’m In Australia, and When There’s No One I Know’.

These are just a few: there are 28 essays, and all are excellent, and each will resonate differently with different readers.

How has working on this anthology influenced your own understanding of your identity and heritage?

When you’re young and trying to work things out, it’s a very internal process. I grew up with sisters and in a large and close-knit community, but we never discussed our internal identity struggles. Reading these essays was eye-opening as it was the first time I realised the different ways that others were similarly grappling with the same issues as myself. This was particularly the case with one or two of the contributors who I already knew, and had had no idea of the situations they mention in their pieces.

At the same time, reading all the submissions underscored the very many different ways there are to be Indian. Popular culture tells us one story but the reality is far more diverse. Far from representations of Indianness that we see that are rooted in one particular culture or religion, Australian Indians are just as likely to be descended from indentured labourers in Fiji, or of Anglo-Indians who have carved out their own unique subculture, or from more far-flung parts of India whose cultural practices are different to those that are fore fronted, but are no less Indian.

What do you hope readers, both Indian-Australian and from other backgrounds, will take away from this book?

I hope all readers come away with more understanding and compassion. If they’re young, I hope they feel lifted, buoyed by the collective wisdom of the writers and their stories. If they’re not Indian, I hope they feel as though they’ve entered a separate universe and granted unique exposure to the inside of our worlds – because this is a rare and special place to be.

Do you see Growing Up Indian in Australia as a standalone project, or are you considering further volumes or related works in the future?

That’s up to Black Inc! I know that non-Indian South Asian-Australian writers felt left out of this anthology, so perhaps a future book could delve into one of those communities. But that’s a project for someone else.

Aarti Betigeri is a journalist, writer, broadcaster and former foreign correspondent, born in Melbourne to parents from Maharashtra and Karnataka. After an early career as a radio and television news presenter and producer with SBS and the ABC, she moved to India to fulfill a long-held dream to report on South Asia, and lived in New Delhi for almost a decade. Currently, she works as a journalist and advisor focusing on international relations. She is also the editor of the book Growing Up Indian in Australia.