Cultural Code Switching, Explained By a Minority

A hard conversation? On Widow’s Lure? No way!

We all know that the only way to cure ignorance is education, and then it’s up to the person receiving it to decide whether they learn and grow from it, or choose to remain willfully ignorant.

However, I’ve always believed that the hardest conversations – the ones that make the air leave the room, and the ones that might make people even the slightest bit uncomfortable – are the conversations that really need to happen. Like, how would you understand why a certain word is considered a slur to a certain group of people if no one will plainly explain it to you?

For that reason alone, I don’t shy away from tough conversations. I may use humour to dilute the seriousness of these conversations from time to time, but if I can power through a hard conversation with the hopes that it helps or educates at least one person out there, then I feel like my job is done.

So with that long introduction out of the way, I wanted to touch on a fairly serious topic that some people might not even be aware of.

Code switching. Ever heard of the term?

At its core, code switching is when someone adjusts or changes the way they speak, act or behave depending on whom they’re around, the setting they’re in, and other external factors. In a very general and low-level sense, some examples of everyday code switching would be going from talking very casually to your friends (“Biiiiitch, guess who I walked past the other day?”) to then speaking more formally with zero profanity when in the office (“Can we set up a one-on-one to go over next week’s tasks?”) You might even behave or communicate differently depending on your friendship groups, like you might be a certain way around your friends from high school than you are around your friends from uni.

Those are very real and valid examples of code switching that everyone goes through in everyday life. But for many minorities, code switching is not just a social flexibility. It can be tied to safety, acceptance and a sense of belonging.

Enter: ethnic and racial code switching.

If you’re Polynesian, you’ll know what I’m talking about when I refer to the ‘Islander laugh’. And for those who haven’t been inducted into the Islander laugh, it’s a certain laugh that every Polynesian has where it’s loud, boisterous and has a supercharged energy or mana behind it. By all accounts, an Islander laugh is absolutely infectious and it’s when you know your Polynesian friend is comfortable around you.

I was talking to my dear friend and sister Eugenie (fellow Polynesian) about the Islander laugh, and I in all sincerity told her I didn’t think I had an Islander laugh, to which she replied that I absolutely do have one and she’s definitely heard it when it was just the two of us together. At first, I thought she was pulling my leg because I genuinely didn’t think I had it in me to produce an Islander laugh. (I was born and raised in country NSW predominantly around white Australians, then moved to Sydney where there was a Pacifika influence but I was still more around a western influence with friends of all cultures.) But as I stopped to think about it, a part of me realised that I did have an Islander laugh and maybe I had subconsciously only reserved it for other Polynesians because I code switched my laugh when around other ethnicities.

If that’s not a clear enough example of cultural code switching, let me quickly introduce you to the ‘pākehā voice’. For those playing at home, pākehā is the Māori word for a non-Māori and is more commonly used to describe white or predominantly white folks.

Now as a friendly reminder, I was born and raised in Australia and have never lived in Aotearoa or Samoa, or even Ireland for that matter. I proudly identify my nationality as Australian and I am very privileged to have grown up in a great country like Australia. So it should be fairly surprising to some that I even have a pākehā voice in general because theoretically that should be my default.

Pākehā voice is the voice and tone you reserve for when you need to communicate with people of other cultures (but mostly white folk) because you have an underlying or subconscious thought that they won’t take you seriously if you use your normal speaking voice. For example, when I am calling a business to make a first-touch enquiry or I’m calling to make an appointment at a clinic that I’ve never used before, my pākehā voice comes out to play because god forbid they take me seriously if I didn’t code switch my voice. When I take podcast interviews or other media talks for my wrestling career, my pākehā voice comes out, and I’ve even had my sister Toni tell me that she heard me using my pākehā voice outside my bedroom door and knew not to knock because the voice alone gave away that I was in an interview of some sort.

The idea that I have to adjust myself, even slightly, to accommodate people from other cultures is quietly laughable to me because I know that nothing about me needs to change and I know that I am very comfortable in who I am and I never shrink to fit in a room that doesn’t deserve me. But even with that knowledge, I still do it.

One thing that I’m big on is always pronouncing words like “Samoan” and “Māori” properly and not using the whitened pronunciations unless I absolutely have to because I don’t feel like I need to adjust my own culture to be more palatable or easier to understand to someone who might not be familiar with the natural pronunciation.

And if cultural and racial code switching wasn’t enough, welcome to queer or gender based code switching.

Some blatant examples of this include: keeping your partner’s gender purposely obscure because you’re unsure of the reaction you’ll receive when that information is divulged; deepening or heightening your voice to avoid possible discrimination; and toning down your wardrobe choices so not to offend others when it’s something you wouldn’t particularly want to wear.

While ethnic and racial code switching is more based in needing other people to understand and consume you, queer or gender based code switching is more based in protecting yourself and feeling safe in environments that you aren’t familiar with. And god forbid I have to go through both on a daily basis just to exist in Australian society.

I love that for the most part, Australia is generally safe for LGBTQIA+ folks and embraces multiculturalism that we are known for. But being a minority from both a racial and gender/sexual orientation standpoint, I find it interesting that my subconscious mind defaults to these kinds of redundant code switches even though I know I don’t need to. Especially as someone who does not shrink to fit into rooms and always embraces my truest self in social situations.

Perhaps underneath the boldness, the glamour and the confidence that I genuinely wield, is that little girl that needs to be understood and needs to feel safe, so these tiny code switches help to put her at ease. And if that’s what I need to do to nurture her, then so fucking be it.

And I’m not saying that in my pākehā voice.

– by The Black Widow

Sex Talk: Sexuality vs. Sexual Orientation

Probably the tamest post you’ll find under Sex Talk.

On Widow’s Lure, we’ve covered the mechanics of a threesome, and random thoughts one might have while doing the horizontal tango.

Today, we’re going to go into something that may seem a bit more political than it does straight nasty. Hmm, maybe less political and more Merriam-Webster actually.

Commonly, when referring to a person and their ability to be attracted to a certain gender or genders, you refer to it as their sexuality. I mean, it makes sense right? Heterosexuality, pansexuality, asexuality, bisexuality… it’s in the name!

However, my understanding of the term sexuality is in one’s ability to be sexual or sexy. For example, a woman’s ability to be sexy by confidently prancing around in a bikini or sharing lingerie photos is her being comfortable in her sexuality.

To me, a person’s ability to be attracted, or not attracted, to a gender or genders is their sexual orientation.

Technically my sexual orientation would be pansexual as I am genuinely attracted to all different kinds of people; however I identify as queer because it’s an all encompassing term and tbh I can’t be bothered getting into the nitty gritty of Kinsey scale and “Okay but you like men more than you do women so can you get into further detail of your pansexuality”.

My sexuality, however, is very provocative and unapologetically feminine. I’m very comfortable in my sexuality and my ability to be sexual, whether it’s the way my hips swing when I walk, or the dramatic way I toss my hair around, or by the tight and skimpy clothing I wear on a night out. I’ve been told I walked out of the womb ready to flirt, and I think that’s just because I find it empowering and quite liberating to be sexy and sexual.

My dear friend Jackie Goldschneider Merriam-Webster defines sexuality as:

the quality or state of being sexual:
a: the condition of having sex
b: sexual activity
c
expression of sexual receptivity or interest especially when excessive

Whereas, sexual orientation is defined by Merriam-Webster as:

a person’s sexual identity or self-identification as bisexual, straight, gay, pansexual, etc. 
the state of being bisexual, straight, gay, pansexual, etc.

So many things encompass one’s sexuality, from how they present themselves and behave when attracting someone, to finding what really pleasures them sexually, to your relationships with other people.

As an Australian, I can kind of see where the confusion has come from. I come from a nation that is infamous for shortening words – you may see me walk into a room, flustered, and utter the phrase “Soz guys, the traff was ridic” – and so I think this is where the confusion really stems from.

In short, I bet someone really saw the term sexual orientation, decided that there are way too many syllables for their own personal liking, and shortened it to ‘sexuality’ because it’s easier to say but also makes sense in the context.

I think healthy and respectful discussions around sexual orientation are great, and I would love for society to get to a place where an individual’s sexual orientation isn’t a problem in any aspect of life. I dream of a time where ‘coming out of the closet’ isn’t a thing anymore; a queer teenaged boy can bring his boyfriend home to meet his parents without any drama or cause of conflict.

But I think because sexuality is often misrepresented as sexual orientation that the true definition of sexuality and discussion around sexuality are lost in translation. In turn, people are made to feel ashamed about their sexuality and their confidence within their own skin, or perhaps don’t know what to do when flirting with someone they’re interested in because they don’t understand the concept of sexuality.

Let’s open up the topic of sexuality to young people so by the time in their lives where they start to discover their identities and become comfortable with who they are, they can find comfort in being who they are and loving their skin.

– by The Black Widow

What Pride Means To Me

It’s Pride season, bitches!

The month of June marks the start of a few things: it’s the start of a freezing cold Winter (in Australia, at least); and it also means that it’s officially Pride month!

The rainbow capitalism of it all would suggest that Pride month is just “gay month” where people wear ostentatious rainbow badges, socks, or outfits, and talk about how queer they are.

While I think both of those things are important to the representation of Pride month, that doesn’t even begin to cover what this month is really about.

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To me, Pride was born because of the many years that queer folk experienced where they were forced ‘into the closet’ because society dictated that they should not be proud of their queerness or who they are as people.

Pride exists, not only as a celebration of being queer which I think is a super important part of Pride month, but because the people under the LGBTQIA+ rainbow umbrella deserve the right to exist in this world without persecution.

Pride exists because if our generation can celebrate embracing our gender identity and sexual orientation, then the younger generations who may be questioning their identity will see that there’s nothing wrong with being attracted to the same gender, or realising that they’re not on the gender binary.

Pride exists to provide a safe space for those who may be ostracised from their family or friends, or for someone who’s deep in the closet but longs for a life where they can be with the person they love without fear of judgment or ridicule.

To me, Pride is obviously for the queer folk to celebrate who they are, but also exists as a reminder for everyone in general to embrace their true selves and love every aspect of themselves, whether it’s their gender identity, sexual orientation, or even other aspects of who they are like their race and cultural background, etc.

This Pride month, I want you to take some quiet time to yourself to sit back, think about all the wonderful aspects that make you truly you, and be proud of who you are and how far you’ve come in your life journey.

And if you are not ready to publicly embrace these parts of yourself, then that’s totally okay! When you’re ready, the Rainbow Army will be here to hold your hand, walk beside you, and guide you in your next step to living your true, authentic life.

Happy Pride month everyone! Love who you love, and most importantly, love who you are.

– by The Black Widow