Issue 08: What if no place feels like home?
The influence of one's sense of belonging on mental well-being
It seems I officially gave up on India on June 29, 2011, the day I renounced my citizenship for the nation I'd called home (at least on paper) for 16 years.
I remember the swearing-in ceremony, sitting next to my mother and father amid rows of fellow migrants, all of us glued to the plastic black folding chairs, our mini red-white-and-blue flags in hand, the lyrics to "The Star Spangled Banner" on our tongues. I remember crying, a lot. Whether those tears were a product of joy or of guilt, I still don't know.
I became an American that day and was meant to be proud of it. Proud of the tempestuous trek that led us to that very room on that very Saturday. I was meant to be grateful to the American people for making room for me among its 3.8 million square miles, 47% of which remain unoccupied. I was meant to feel lucky, even after living in the country for 16 long years, after watching the rug pulled from under my parents' feet again and again and again, after being denied to programs because my religious affiliation made neighbors uncomfortable, lucky that although I'd made the mistake of being born elsewhere, I was eventually deemed worthy enough to hold the coveted U.S. passport in my hands. I'm also great at holding a grudge, btw.
Becoming an American citizen meant two things to me in that moment: It's less likely that I'd be holding up my friends at the airport from now on and, more importantly, I'd get to have a voice in the upcoming presidential election. This... this would matter.
Every country has its evils, some more than others. I know I've felt proud of America in the past, though I'm having a hard time remembering the last time. But I don't have to be blindly proud of a nation to belong, right?
The truth is, I've never felt I truly belonged anywhere. For those first 16 years in America, at least, it was as if I was floating around, waiting for someone to take notice, to realize my parents deserved better than this. I was a foreigner, a resident, but never "one of us." It was exhausting having to explain to classmates I wasn't actually here illegally, that no, I didn't understand what the hold up was, either.
No matter. Official documentation did little to convince me I belong. And it certainly did little to convince you.
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like, going back to India. I was born there on Oct. 14, 1991, in the central city of Indore. I left for Saudi Arabia as an infant and have never been back to either. Everything I know about my hometown is seeped into my memory by way of my family. But I don't belong there. Not anymore.
My feelings of detachment from both my homeland and my current land seem to be worsening as dehumanizing rhetoric and policies are normalized, not just here in America but all over the world. This issue of being in limbo—it's primarily what led to my diagnosis of clinical depression in 2016.
I had a therapist at the time recommend I spend more time outdoors. It was wintertime and I thought she was being ridiculous. How's some fresh air going to help me figure out who the hell I am, where the hell I belong?
Turns out her advice was sound, but it would be some time before I'd take it to heart. Rescuing a dog kind of forced me out the door, even on days I'd call in sick solely because my heart ached. I read a book that pushed me into the forest, among trees and among dirt roads, no phone signal or traffic in sight. A book that helped me feel grounded for the first time in my life.
The more often I stepped into the wild, the more I realized I do belong. I belong to the Earth below me and to the skies beyond. I belong so fiercely to these lands, my existence transcends your imaginary borders.
I'm a citizen of the goddamn world. And so are you.
Sense of belonging and mental health: What's the connection?
According to the Mayo Clinic, sense of belonging is "fundamental to the way humankind organizes itself." Without it, we'd live solitary lives, wouldn't have families, communities or organized government. We'd return to each other solely for procreation and leave our children behind as soon as they're able to walk.
How important is it for our mental well-being?
Well, let's start from the very beginning. When we're born, we crave attachment. Research shows children without a healthy attachment to a caregiver after birth and in young life "have lower self-esteem, a more negative worldview, are mistrustful and can have a perception of rejection," according to Mayo.
And throughout our lives, "the social ties that accompany a sense of belonging are a protective factor helping manage stress. When we feel we have support and are not alone, we often cope more effectively with difficult times in our lives. Coping well with hardships decreases the physical and mental impact of these situations."
A lack of a sense of belonging has been linked primarily to depression, anxiety and suicide and further interferes with one's ability to connect to others, ensuring the cycle continues.
What about immigrants in particular?
So. Research consistently shows life satisfaction is heavily influenced by immigrants' sense of belonging. The spread of dehumanizing narratives about immigrants makes many feel unwelcome, unwanted and, well, like they simply don't belong.
These narratives tend to minimize legitimacy, whether an immigrant is undocumented, naturalized, even if they took their first breath on American soil.
There's the term "anchor babies," given to youth born in the country to an undocumented mother. Using the term is a "political tactic" that "questions the very legitimacy of U.S.-born children of undocumented parents and aims to justify ending birthright citizenship," according to Dell Medical School professor Carmen Valdez.
Many of us are also quite familiar with the phrase, "Go back to [insert country here]." If you need a refresher on this particular delegitimizing tactic, the 45th President of the United States recently used it against four Democratic members of Congress, all of whom are American citizens (and women of color).
POTUS has also called immigrants, Latinx immigrants in particular, "rapists" and "animals." The recent rise in anti-immigrant rhetoric from up top, researchers say, has correlated with an increase in hate crimes.
In fact, according to the more than 150 cases of hate crimes Reveal News found in ProPublica's Documenting Hate database, 75 involved attacks on immigrants, with many perpetrators invoking the president's name. And the numbers are probably understated. Experts say immigrants without authorization are becoming increasingly afraid and unwilling to report such crimes to authorities in the first place.
What the research says:
Generally, belonging to a minority group in the host country can negatively affect health and increase the incidence of depressive symptoms. (Bernstein, Park, Shin, Cho & Park, 2009)
There's also an overwhelming propensity in the country to ascribe the American identity to European Americans rather than to ethnic minorities. In other words, "American" = White. (Devos & Banaji, 2005; Devos, Gavin, & Quintana, 2010; Devos & Heng, 2009; Devos & Ma, 2008; Rydell, Hamilton, & Devos, 2010).
In general, individuals who have a strong orientation toward both their own group and a new culture experience better levels of mental health than those who feel they belong to only one group—or to neither. This is referred to as acculturation theory. (Berry and Hou, 2016)
Second-gen immigrants may be at higher risk of poor mental health due to the demands associated with navigating two cultures and feelings of not belonging in the immigrant culture or the host population. (Montazer & Wheaton, 2011; Rumbaut, 2005).
Compared with immigrants who felt a sense of belonging to both Norway (new country) and their country of origin (Pakistan, Bosnia, Poland, Afghanistan, Somalia, etc.), those who only felt affinity to one country had 37% higher odds of mental health problems. Those who felt connected to neither had 62% higher odds. (Straiton, Aambø, Johansen, 2019)
In this cross-cultural study of Asian American, African American and Latinx college students, awareness of the "perpetual foreigner stereotype" significantly predicted lower hope and life satisfaction for Asian Americans. The stereotype was also a marginal predictor of greater depression for Latinx immigrants. (Huynh, Devos, Smalarz, 2011)
Recipients of the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program (DACA) have a greater sense of belonging as valued and contributing members of our society and report improved psychological well-being after receiving the designation. (American Immigration Council)
For Asian Americans, being treated as an alien in one’s own land is associated with feelings of inferiority, discomfort, and isolation. (Sue, Bucceri, Lin, Nadal, & Torino, 2007).
Common microagressions that drive migrants to feel they don't belong: Questioning an individual’s home-town, complimenting his/her command of the English language, or mistaking him/her as a foreigner (Liang et al., 2004).
Targets of racial microaggressions report experiencing anxiety, stress, helplessness, academic disengagement, anger, and frustration. (Smith, Allen, & Danley, 2007; Solórzano, Ceja, & Yosso, 2000).
Other real-life implications: Immigrants who internalize feelings of being "un-American" may not be as involved in civic life, including voting, volunteering, military service—all important factors linked to the "American" identity.
Citizenship and belonging
Citizenship does further an immigrants' feeling of belonging in their host country, but only when host nationals also believe migrants who become citizens belong in the country. Essentially, policy itself doesn't influence how immigrants experience belonging, but rhetoric and public hostility can.
What can you do if you're struggling with belonging?
If your life feels like one giant identity crisis, perhaps you'll find comfort in knowing you're not the only one out there aboard the lonesome boat. I'm going to speak from personal experience here and not as a medical professional, so please keep that in mind.
First and foremost, take the step to seek therapy. It could just start with a Google search. Email a few psychologists or psychiatrists you're interested in connecting with. Schedule that first appointment.
Make the effort to talk with other immigrants and share your thoughts with loved ones. I've connected with some strangers on Twitter over shared immigrant experiences, and they've become dear friends. In my opinion, the key to feeling somewhat at peace with a mixed, misunderstood or even a lack of definitive identity is realizing you're not alone. It's one of the reasons I started this newsletter to begin with.
Another huge source of therapy when I feel I belong within no particular borders: I identify as a citizen of the globe. I connect with the planet at large, the trees and the oceans and the beings all around. Fair warning, though: Doing so exacerbates my already heightened concerns about the environment.
Have any practical tips I can share with the group next time? Send 'em my way!
Updates
Meet fact-checker Hanaa' Tameez!
Hanaa' Tameez is an independent multimedia journalist based in New Jersey. She'll be helping fact-check the newsletter beginning next month. Tameez was previously the diversity reporter for the Fort Worth Star-Telegram in Texas where she covered race, identity and social equity. She holds an M.A. from CUNY Graduate School of Journalism with a concentration in bilingual journalism. She has previously worked for Animal Político and The Wall Street Journal in Mexico, Americas Quarterly and The Council on Foreign Relations in New York and the Green Bay Press-Gazette in Wisconsin.
Want to join the #foreignbodies team behind the scenes? Send me a note: fiza.pirani@gmail.com.
Have a few bucks to spare?
We've opened donations from the public to help fund the newsletter domain, access to research, and well, our time! Here's how you can help keep the lights on:
Donate via Cash App: cash.app/$foreignbodies
Donate through PayPal or Stripe
In April, Longreads published an excerpt from Delphine Minoui's "I'm Writing You From Tehran," a family memoir and making of a reporter told by "someone both insider and outsider―a child of the diaspora." It's gorgeous. Read here.
"Will My Home Ever Feel Like Home Again?" by trans Malaysian Chinese writer Nic Dinan follows Dinan's return to a home country plagued with both memories of harassment—and motherly love. During the trip, Dinan is surprised by this realization: "For the first time in many years, I feel closer to Malaysia... I have a responsibility not only to my family but to a community of trans Malaysians, which weaves thread into rope and tethers me to Malaysia no matter how far I go. These ropes are fixed, and their influence guides me." Read here.
Here's another piece published in ZORA from Sharine Taylor, who interviews Zalika Reid-Benta following her debut short story collection, "Frying Plantain," on the search for identity in the diaspora as an Afro-Caribbean. Read here.
For Penn Today, political scientist Nicholas Sambanis uncovers the roots of discrimination toward immigrants and how its accumulated impact shapes perceptions of identity and belonging. Read here.
"Identity isn’t a prescriptive solution. But when you’re uncertain of your place within society, it can help to have ready-made categories or narratives, even if you choose to reject them." Literary critic Hua Hsu on "The stories we tell, and don't tell about Asian-American lives" for The New Yorker. Read here.
Undocumented immigrant and poet Yosimir Reyes penned this essay for Teen Vogue in February 2018. Titled "In a 'Nation of Immigrants,' Who chooses Who Belongs?" Reyes reflects on UCIS' call to remove the phrase "nation of immigrants" from its mission statement. Read here.
I haven't yet read "The Other Americans" by Moroccan immigrant Laila Lalami, but it's come highly recommended. The novel explores "a fleeting sense of home" and revolves around a central character who was never rooted to her hometown nor did she feel a sense of belonging in her host country. (#relatable) Buy here.
In his book "The Land is Our Land: An Immigrant's Manifesto," Indian-American author Suketu Mehta draws upon years of personal experience and reporting to argue "the West is being destroyed not by immigrants but by the fear of immigrants," and how civil strife and climate change will continue to displace and reshape the planet. Buy here.
Foreign Bodies is a monthly e-mail newsletter dedicated to the unique experiences of immigrants and refugees as they relate to coping with mental illness and wellness. It’s written and curated by Atlanta-based writer Fiza Pirani with copyediting and fact-checking help from New Jersey-based independent journalist Hanaa’ Tameez. Want to contribute your time or share your own #ForeignBodies story? Send an email to 4nbodies@gmail.com or say hi on Twitter @4nbodies. Special shout-out to Carter Fellow and friend Rory Linnane for the adorable animated logo!