In the last while, there have been blogposts and tweet chains about the disparaging and derogatory comments that women and minorities in academia are frequently at the receiving end of. I’ve thought about commenting, thought about adding to growing lists that sound all too familiar. But then something weird happened–I couldn’t remember enough specifics, and simply could not muster the energy to first remember and then construct that memory into a statement that adequately shared the pain of being made to feel other, less than, unwelcome.
Which absolutely is not to say that I’ve heard nothing. And which is not to say that I don’t still remember the pain.
Which is not to say that sharing these comments in the past hasn’t been profoundly freeing to me, to let me see that my pain is both systemic and personal, that others have experienced worse, that others like and unlike me have felt more and different pain.
Which is not to say that forgetting is the goal, or somehow better. We all reckon with our pain differently. Many of us cannot forget.
It’s just to say that right now, I’ve forgotten how you all have made me feel unwelcome in academia, and that I work hard to remember all of you who have made me feel like I belong here and how you’ve done so in big and little ways. It means that when you all are surprised, again and again, at the magnitude of what all of us remember and have forgotten, I resent you for making me feel like I need to remember to be believed. I hate that you don’t realise how remembering can be a burden.
And the real tragedy is, I don’t actually need to remember, because sooner or later, someone will say something again.
Ambika Kamath 