I grew up loving to sing.

When I was a little girl my mother would promise to give me a dollar if I sang her a song, and two dollars if I sang for guests that came over.

As I grew older my love for music became more than just a party trick. As a teenager I wanted to take guitar as an elective at school.

But when I told my parents about the option of taking music as a school elective, they scoffed at the thought. My dad punctuated the disdain for the idea by referring to me as a “Mirasi.”

At the time I’d never heard this word but I could tell from the way he said it wasn’t a positive thing.

Suddenly music which had been such as source of joy for me, became associated with a sense of shame that has since lingered in my life. When I am the only girl on the dance floor, or when relatives look at the guitars and drums at my house I feel the pinch of this unwelcome sensation.

Yet my parents adore music, and there is always some Ghazal or Qawwali playing at our house. We attend concerts as often as we can. We like to think of ourselves as refined intellectuals who consume culture.

But when it comes to creating music, or a certain type of art I was always given the impression that it is not something that “people like us” do.

So then who does?

It turns out the ‘derogatory’ word that was introduced to me when I wanted to study music isn’t derogatory at all. Mirasi’s are a caste group from South Asia. They are people who play music at events and fairs.

But they are an oppressed class of people because the way they make their livelihood (by entertaining others) is considered a lower occupation beneath the status of those from so-called ‘upper’ castes.

Although I wasn’t aware of it until much later in life, the caste system is still used in Canada to shame people, to dictate what we will pursue in life, and most painfully it is even used to decide who we marry. The caste system is not something we left behind in India.

There are many other times I can think of when the names of certain castes were used as insults to belittle me and put me in my place. Sometimes they were used to call me stupid. Sometimes they were used to call me vulgar. Sometimes they were used to call me ugly. As I begin to learn about what these words mean, the system of oppression they stem from, and the ongoing persecution of people caused by these words, I began to feel a new kind of shame. The kind of shame that comes from knowing that the culture which raised me, that I love and celebrate, actually has a very sinister side to it. This horrendous part of our culture is the caste system.

It is used to demean people across Canada. In South Asia it is a system that continues to see people violently oppressed. How do we continue to uphold this system even as second and third generation Canadians? What are the implications of announcing our privileged caste names with pride? What role can we play in dismantling this system?

In two weeks-time accomplished Harvard graduate and award-winning academic Suraj Yengde will be visiting university campuses and theatre halls through-out the lower mainland to deliver a series of lectures on the caste system. It is imperative that anyone who has ever proudly proclaimed their caste to attend this event and take part in this dialogue about privilege, oppression and violence.

 On October 12th there will be a community event called Dalits and #Jatts at Kwantlen Polytechnic University, 12666 72nd Avenue in Fir Lecture Hall Room 128. A lecture at 12:30 followed by a community panel discuss at 1:30. Registration is free on Eventbrite. For more information, please email:  [email protected].