TRANSCRIPT
"Every single one of us has our own understanding about code-switching. In my world, it's the code-switching of my gender, of how I express myself with my ethnicity. And sometimes, you know, sometimes I even have to hide my faith."
That's Budi Sudarto, a mental health trainer and consultant specialising in intersectionality, equity and justice.
As someone who is Muslim, non-binary and a member of the queer community, Budi says the way they are forced to code switch in their daily life and interactions, can manifest in different ways.
"You know, it's not safe to ask for, to ask for leave to attend religious festivals, or it's not safe to ask if a venue has a praying room, or if a workplace has a praying room. So that in itself is code-switching. You know, for other people, it can be something else. But I think all of us have to start to realise that code-switching, it comes from the expectation by the dominant group for the minority group to follow their norms, follow their cultures in order to feel a sense of acceptance."
So, what is code switching?
The Harvard Business Review's 2019 article titled 'The Costs of Code-Switching,' describes the term as adjusting one’s style of speech, appearance, behaviour and expression in ways that will optimise the comfort of others in exchange for fair treatment, quality service and employment opportunities.
While everyone is affected by code switching, the practice can often be heightened for people from racially marginalised backgrounds, particularly in settings with a lack of diversity or inclusivity.
Budi says for them, there were times where code switching in the workplace had become so inherent, they often didn't realise until after-the-fact that they were doing it.
"You know, Australians like to go out on Friday night after work. (Laughs) They like to drink with their work colleagues. And back then, I thought that was just the culture of the workplace. Okay, we go out, we go out and socialise after work, and as we know, it's usually conversation during that social time that has a real impact on the workplace. So either ideas being passed around or information being disclosed, all of that in informal settings. And then it dawned to me after I left the workplace that I was actually code-switching. I was actually trying to be accepted in a space that I didn't necessarily always feel safe, or I didn't necessarily always want to participate in. However, there's that fear, 'If I don't participate, then I might miss out. If I don't participate, then they may not see me as a team player', and if they don't see me as a team player, then that will have real consequences on my profession."
While mastering the back-and-forth of everyday code switching can be challenging, for others, code switching isn't always associated with negative experiences.
Catherine Madziva was born in Zimbabwe, and spent the majority of her life growing up in Australia.
"I would say for the listeners right now, if you close your eyes and heard my voice, you might not think that I come from an African country because of the way that I speak. This is the result of code switching. This is the result of the migration that my parents had to take. This is the result of like a 'better life' that in quote code switching, there's also elements of ourselves that we also have to let go. And that's the sad reality sometimes of getting really good at code switching, because can you switch back? Can you sound like the rest of your people? Can you sound like your aunties and uncles and have those conversations in like vernacular and, and language? Sometimes you can't."
Catherine works as a youth affairs advocate.
Throughout her career, she has hosted girls' nights and safe space sessions for fellow Zimbabwean-Australians where they can discuss coming-of-age issues, including mental health, relationships, finances and private screenings of movies centred around Blackness and Black beauty.
She was also crowned Miss Sahara, a beauty pageant focusing on African women, broadening beauty standards and promoting Australians of African descent into mainstream media.
Catherine says while there is a dark side to code switching, inherently, she doesn't believe it's a bad thing, especially when it comes to language.
"It shows a mastery of linguistics. When I'm speaking to my grandparents, I will use a different kind of language when I'm speaking to them, versus I'm in the office with colleagues and workmates, versus me doing public speaking. Those are all forms of code switching."
Catherine says code switching through language has helped her foster closer connections and relationships with friends and family, like her grandparents who speak Shona, a Bantu language of the Shona people of Zimbabwe.
"The reason I wanna highlight that code switching isn't always inherently bad is because there's a level of comfort in speaking a particular way with people that you feel comfortable with. When you are joking around with your friends and you have inside jokes and inside conversations, or particular phrases or particular ways of speaking, that's a way that you're connecting with your friends and you feel comfortable... The way that I would speak to my grandparents and the more formal ways of addressing them is a way of code switching. And that's a way that we feel connected because I am using particular language. I'm communicating a certain type of respect to them that they feel like, yes, this-- my grandchild has done this, we are able to communicate in this particular way."
While Catherine associates these forms of code switching as positive, she says the practice can become detrimental when she feels the need to do it out of safety, or so as not to miss an opportunity.
"It's only when it's in a context that you feel like my safety is at risk or a level of discomfort that you are like, I now need to change myself or the way that I speak. That's when we kind of slip into more dangerous territory... Because you didn't speak in that particular way or in a way that others understood you. That's when it kind of goes into the territory of aiding to the systems of racism when certain opportunities are denied of you because of, because of your race. And language is part of race, part of culture, part of identity."
As a teenager, Catherine legally changed the order of her name.
She says potential employment opportunities were the driving factor behind that decision.
“To give a little bit of context, my first name is Buhlebenkosi, and then my second name is Catherine. And so obviously I go by Catherine. And I also had the order of my name legally changed as well, so that now on all of my official documents, it's Catherine Buhlebenkosi Madziva. And that was a conversation that I had when I was really young with my parents. I was probably, oh, this is before I even graduated high school. Yes, I was very young and the conversation was around how will people perceive me in the workplace, what would that be like? My parents didn't want me to be denied particular opportunities because my name was difficult or different or foreign for people who would potentially be hiring me."
She says there is a protective element in going by the name Catherine.
"I don't have to be coaching people into saying Buhlebenkosi or 'what does it mean?' or 'am I saying it correctly?' So it definitely saves me in, in that regard... But there's a bit of heartbreak to that as well, because I absolutely love my first name and the meaning behind it... The meaning behind it is around God and God's beauty. And I think it's such a beautiful name that unfortunately I don't use on a daily basis. But the beauty around code switching and this element of belonging is that when I am with those of Southern African descent, particularly Zimbabweans, those that can say my name, there's this moment to like exhale that like, there's people that like, get it. I don't have to explain what my name means. I don't have to explain how to pronounce it. And that element of switching code maybe back into the mother tongue, or into people who just understand the language and the cultural norms is this moment of belonging, of oneness, if you will."
She says making these changes has saved her from uncomfortable experiences.
"I'm okay with people not being able to pronounce my name. In the Australian context, that we are so multicultural and so diverse in our experiences, intergenerational and otherwise, not everyone has grown up in Zimbabwe. Not everyone understands the Zimbabwean languages. So it is natural that not everyone would be able to pronounce my name. I don't hold that against people in the same way that there's certain words or certain things that I can't pronounce because I didn't grow up learning those languages."
Code switching is extremely nuanced and contextual.
Mental health trainer Budi Sudarto says the intersectionality of being a migrant, with queer and transgender diverse identity adds another layer of complexity in terms of embracing their own place in the world.
"So before they start saying something like, 'Oh, I just don't understand you,' or you know, 'Can you just speak English better,' or 'Can you behave in a certain way because you know, this is a professional environment' or anything like that, I just want people to be aware that those statements and comments are actually hurtful because it highlights the concept that 'We are not the same as you, therefore you need to be on our level. You need to make sure that you do everything that you can so you can be similar to us.' They will never see us as being similar but close enough to be similar to us."
Budi says comments like these can be alienating and create a sense of pressure to conform.
"So I just want people to be aware of making those comments and just kind of really checking in, you know, is what I'm going to say to another person helpful, or is it going to give them trauma and make them feel another sense of alienation? And if I feel that what I'm going to say to them is actually going to alienate them even further, what rights do I have to say it to another person? Why do I feel privileged and entitled enough to make someone else feel less than unless they are code-switching to my standard?"
Catherine says she acknowledges the way she has experienced code switching is different to that of other migrants.
"Because in my pivotal points in life, I was juggling these two identities, if you will, something that parents or grandparents don't necessarily juggle in the same way. Because sometimes with the migrant experience or the refugee experience, they have done that move as fully formed adults, sometimes with children. So the ability to be more flexible in, in linguistics and the way that they communicate is a bit more rigid to someone who has who, to someone who has migrated, let's say at five years old, at 10 years old... For them, code switching is almost pushed upon them because they will say certain words with a particular accent and then someone will correct them. They are trying to correct them and have them speak in a particular way that isn't natural to them. Whereas someone wouldn't necessarily do that to me because I have already mastered that. I already speak like that."
The way people code switch can also extend to food and the way they dress.
Catherine says these considerations applied to her too, especially when deciding what to bring in her lunchbox as a child trying to fit in at school.
"When we first moved to Australia, I was five years old and everyone kept talking about Vegemite. Obviously me and my parents had never heard of Vegemite coming from Zimbabwe. And so I was like, 'Mum, we have to have Vegemite. Tomorrow I will have it on a sandwich and I will go into class with my friends.' And so I got Vegemite. (Laughs) My mum was super excited for me and I didn't want to try it at home. I wanted to try it with my friends on the playground at recess and lunch. And so that's what we did. I sat down with my friends, we all sat around in a circle; they were sitting with anticipation. I was so excited. And I took this massive bite into this Vegemite sandwich. And I don't think I've ever tasted anything worse in my life (laughs). But that was a significant moment in my, in my mind, this cultural experience where the environment called for me to have a Vegemite sandwich. And I think for like two, three days, I probably still took a Vegemite sandwich just because I wanted to be like my friends and being in a new environment, I wanted to just belong. But at a point I was like, 'I can't, I can't do this'. (Laughs). I can't do the Vegemite sandwich. And so I would bring in little snacks from our cultural background, little traditional donuts and things like that to share with my friends."
Now as an adult Catherine says these considerations stem to decisions around what to wear, or what not to wear, whether it be in the workplace or otherwise.
"Multicultural days at school were the days that I could wear traditional attire and African dress. Or days like Harmony Day is when I can come into the office in traditional dress. But if it was just a random Tuesday, I just know that it was going to be a point of conversation if I was to wear an African print skirt or have earrings that look a bit more traditional. And I guess this seeps into the emotional labour of having to be different. Yeah, I won't say that it's a microaggression but definitely the emotional labour of having to prep yourself to know that, 'Okay, I'm going to the office, I'm going to this event, I'm going out for dinner and I am wearing like a head wrap, or I'm wearing African print earrings or jewelry or shoes or whatever it may be.' Having to hype myself up for the conversations that I will have when I just wanted to wear a cute outfit."
While code switching can look different depending on the person, Budi says there are several things they believe can be done to even the playing field.
"You know, sadly, we are living in a society that the more Aussie you are, the more you become accepted in a way (laughs), the more you can just get by. And, you know, I know we as ethnic migrants, you know, we talk amongst ourselves. We keep saying to each other, 'Why do we have to keep following their standards?' You know, 'Why can't they start learning and embracing our identities, our beautiful cultures, our unique names, you know, our unique sense of dressing or the way we speak, the way we interact with each other?' You know, if there is going to be a proper integration of multiple cultures, then we all should learn from each other instead of just expecting one side or one party to follow the dominant group."
Catherine says coming into adulthood, she's sought to reclaim any reservations she might have about how she might be perceived in Australian society.
"As most children from cultural and linguistically diverse backgrounds, there's always this rejection of culture, rejection of traditional foods and not wanting to be seen eating our traditional foods when someone else is bringing a sandwich or a salad or whatever it may be. But I would say, and using my friends, me and my friends as an example, there is this like reclaiming of our traditional foods of presenting or showing up as our whole self in every single space, which I think is really beautiful."
Overall, Catherine says code switching can be beneficial and a necessity when moving through life, but acknowledges it does have a dark side as well.
"You are able to communicate different parts of yourself in various ways. But in saying that, I'm not ignorant to the fact that sometimes code switching happens as a protective factor. That if you are aware that English is maybe like your third or fourth language, and because you speak other languages, you might speak English with a particular inflection or a particular accent. So there's certain words that you would use or there's certain, certain pronunciations that you would use so that you can align yourself with the main culture, the mainstream culture, so that you're not overlooked for promotion, so that you look and are perceived to be more friendly, that you are almost like a one of us type of thing."
