Pallavi Ramanathan
What does it mean to be “out of place”? We are often told that we are “out of place” in a manner that suggests that it is an undesirable position, something to be rectified, fixed. For how can one live a meaningful life if one is not in place?
In her deeply compelling chapter “Feeling at Home Outside”, Lynette Chua suggests that being “out of place” is not the disagreeable position one might imagine it to be. Chua further suggests that being out of place is often crucial, as it is a way to make a stand, to make space for oneself. Interestingly, she also asserts that if the researchers themselves are out of place, they may develop a more finely nuanced understanding of the out-of-place group they seek to study. As she says, “Drawn to an out-of-place movement, the out-of-place researcher in me identified the power of rights and the strength of human agency to forge resistance against the odds” (110). Through three distinct examples, she demonstrates how resistance, collective action, and mobilization emerge from this notion of being “out of place.” The gay rights movement in Singapore, the practice of human rights in Myanmar, and the exploration of parental maintenance laws in Taiwan, China, Singapore, and Vietnam are presented as examples of how people who were considered “out of place” rose up and mobilised their “marginalized” identities. Identity seems critical to this argument, in particular, vulnerable identities.
Being out of place might suggest that one’s identity does not find resonance with that of the dominant group in that specific context. In this sense then, “out of place” underlies my research too, visible in the narratives of the unheard, silenced margins of society, the people who are “out of place.” I have worked with Tibetan refugees living in India for a while now, a vulnerable and often marginalised group; and as I now realise, distinctly out of place. Through this essay, I discuss Chua’s notion of out-of-placeness through the psychological lens of resistance and collective action (both big and everyday instances). I also emphasise that out-of-placeness is often a choice and place of its own; that it is agentic and voluntary.
Voluntarily Out-of-Place
Let me take a step back and frame this in a more coherent manner. I start, as Chua did, with myself. As a qualitative researcher in social psychology, positionality is critical for any research one conducts. I, a non-north Indian, have lived in Delhi for almost all my life and completed all my education there. Despite living in Delhi for three decades, I was always out of place because although I am from Delhi, I was never quite from Delhi (the reader might understand that being born and brought up in a place is not the same as identifying oneself as being from that place). My out-of-place-ness drew me towards others who were similarly out of bounds; my research on refugees thus began with the question of identity: “Who am I and where do I belong?” My master’s dissertation and doctoral work have revolved around the concept of what I now understand as not just marginalised, but out-of-place identities, much like those Chua discusses. After reading Chua’s essay, I now begin to understand that the Tibetan refugees who have been living in India for more than seventy years are simultaneously in-place and out-of-place, as they have carved a place for themselves over multiple decades. They have acknowledged their out-of-place-ness, since, as my research (see Ramanathan 2016) suggests, assimilation was never an option for them. They always were, and still remain distinctly and voluntarily out-of-place.
Being Tibetan and having a Tibetan identity along with its cultural markers (such as clothes, language, festivals, and choice of partners) is a core idea for most Tibetans; even after so many decades in India, few imagine themselves as Indian or even Tibetan-Indian. Furthermore, being a refugee is also central to being Tibetan, even though many are now third or even fourth-generation Tibetans living in India. In this sense, out-of-place-ness appears to be a decision to be embraced. It is the creation of a distinctive identity, the opposite of assimilation and conformity. That they are Tibetan refugees was staunchly established as an immutable fact across almost all the interviews I conducted. Furthermore, although I ensured that the word “refugee” was missing from any and all interview probes, this word and its connotations still emerged quite strongly from the narratives of the participants. It seems that for Tibetans the word “refugee” is not a negative out-of-place denomination, but rather, it is the way they identify themselves as distinct and as separate, as not Indian, and as not being in their homeland. This too is a manner of protest, suggesting that out-of-placeness is not the negative position that it is assumed to be. In addition, this idea of being a refugee is also key to perpetuating their culture. This was an important finding in my research (Ramanathan & Singh 2021) that Tibetans must, and eventually do prefer to embrace their out-of-place-ness. Thus, they also choose to be out of place to remind other Tibetans, particularly the younger generations, that this is not their home, that they are out of place, and so they must remain. As Chua mentions in her essay: “we were urged to learn “our” “history” and “culture,” lest they perish quietly one day, their vitality slowly strangled, day by day, generation after generation” (106).
Out-of-Placeness as Resistance
The idea of protest, or collective action, is an interesting aspect of the examination of out-of-place people. As Chua points out, resistance is a key performance of groups that are out of place, minorities, and marginalised. This finds some resonance in social psychological literature on collective action too. The Social Identity Model of Collective Action (SIMCA) (van Zomeren 2013) suggests four essential elements for political action: efficacy, identity, emotion, and morality. The identity element is significant for this argument because it is suggested that people must feel that they are part of a group, because in order to mobilize, we must find other people who are similarly out-of-place! This creates a space for this group of people who are out of place. In SIMCA, the individual’s social identity is positioned at the model’s core, which reflects the assumption that individuals are motivated to protect, maintain, or enhance their group identity and interests. Van Zomeren et al. (2013) also suggest that a stronger sense of “us” is assumed to predict collective action directly because it engenders conformity to the group’s norms about collective action. Most importantly, collective action is not only about big actions such as revolutions but also everyday forms of resistance. Chua reflects similarly on her childhood, “[…] asked to live out-of-placeness with resistance, not in open protest but in its everyday forms” (106). For refugees, Tibetan refugees in particular, the resistance goes beyond the everyday forms; they are a mix of both big actions and everyday activism, consistently speaking about their cause on platforms big and small. It is central to who they are.
The notion of documentation and citizenship is also critical to this argument. Documentation is the primary proof to show that one belongs. This is a key concern for refugees who more often than not lack the correct documentation, if they have it at all. This is a serious consideration for Tibetan refugees who have neither refugee status in India (India is not a signatory to the 1951 Geneva Convention and its 1967 Protocol), nor Indian citizenship, but rather foreigner status. Despite these significant concerns, Tibetan refugees prefer not to apply for Indian citizenship. This might also be a sign of protest. Some Tibetans are eligible for Indian citizenship; the Election Commission of India directed the states to enroll Tibetans born between January 26, 1950 and July 1, 1987. The Election Commission issued a directive following a decision made by the Karnataka High Court that according to Section 3 of the Citizenship Act (1955), Tibetans born between 1950 and 1987 are citizens of India. However, in reality, it is extremely difficult for these Tibetans to prove their status as citizens and acquire passports, and thus they retain foreigner status in India. Some Tibetans choose not to take up Indian citizenship, as it does not allow them to retain Tibetan citizenship at the same time, and they do not wish to completely give up their Tibetan identity (for an overview of the status of Tibetan refugees in India, see here). Thus, again, they choose to remain out of place. Chua also suggests this, and I see indications of resistance and protest through her personal life as well as the three examples she provides. As she says, at Berkeley she began to “embrace being out of place” (108) and, more importantly, she “learned to recognize the human condition of feeling out of place, to embrace it when I encountered it, and to be curious about the power and resistance involved in its making” (117).
Out-of-Place as a Place
During my work with Tibetan refugees, I observed two critical kinds of “out of place-ness.” The most obvious one, as already mentioned, is the refugees themselves—unheard, non-native, and utterly out-of-place. The second, less clearly apparent position is that held by me, the researcher. Chua mentions this in her chapter, and I emphasise her argument that researchers who are themselves out of place are often more sensitive to the out-of-placeness that exists within people. In exploring the experiences of people living on the margins of society, one must be open-minded; this can only come from having experienced a similar sense of being an outsider. I also extend this argument to suggest that out-of-placeness is not just about one’s own position as a researcher, but also about being outside the group one seeks to understand. For my research, I am out-of-place in the sense of being an outsider seeking to understand the refugee experience and refugee identity.
In qualitative research, one often refers to one’s positionality as etic and emic (Pike 1967), as outsiders and insiders, researchers who are out of place and those who “belong.” Both these positions are considered equally critical to acknowledge, and my position as an outsider, although “outside” to the topic of refugee identities, adds a new layer of understanding to their lived experience. Even for this essay, I myself, as a social psychologist, am perhaps out of place in commenting upon socio-legal discourses. However, this outsider perspective is critical, because unless there is someone out of place, there would be no social change, and the status quo would remain as is. How would creativity, new thoughts, and inclusivity find space in discourse? Hence, “out of place” is a place in itself. It is a critical space for reflection, resistance, and identity negotiation: essential for the growth of theories and policies, and thus, of societies.
Pallavi Ramanathan is currently an Assistant Professor of Psychology at FLAME University, Pune. She has recently completed her PhD in Social Psychology at IIT Delhi and her thesis is titled “Understanding the Construction and Negotiation of Tibetan Refugee Identities in India”. Her research interests lie in the areas of social identity, the social and cultural context, intergroup relations, refugee studies, and polyculturalism. Pallavi has presented her work at various international conferences and has several journal articles and book chapters across her various areas of interest.
Feature Image: Durba Sen, A-Breath-in-Time.
This is part of a book round-table on Out of Place: Fieldwork and Positionality in Law and Society (CUP 2024). Read the other posts here.
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