I was at SXSW* a few years ago and a corporate partner gave my team electric scooters to navigate the spread out events. Everyone hopped on and happily explored together, except me. The team bonding I had imagined never happened for me; while people rode, chatted, bonded and made plans, I walked and explored alone. No one I asked me why I didn’t join, and I didn’t feel comfortable saying that I didn’t know how to ride a bike.
It’s not just biking, I didn’t grow up running, swimming, rollerblading, playing any sports or musical instruments, with computers, or with access to endless books as one might find in a public library. The list goes on and it’s not meant to be a pity party. I’m simply pointing out that there are everyday things that we take for granted, and assume that everyone has them. If we note the disparity, we often attribute it to financial lack. Even if my family could afford bikes, running shoes and rollerblades (which we couldn’t), our city wasn’t safe for little girls running or biking around. Only the wealthy had access to swimming pools and computers, and there is still no concept of free public libraries in India. So the reasons for lack of access weren’t only financial, they were also social and structural.
The structures we grow up with massively influence our well-being throughout our life. Public infrastructure like parks, clean and uninterrupted water supply, public libraries, safe streets and friendly neighborhoods, and even clean air. And the valuable private infrastructure of our families: the financial resources for a well-rounded upbringing, the support of extended family or the guidance from parents’ professional networks.
My visit to India reminded me of my social and structural luck: progressive and loving parents who valued education; growing up in a close knit extended family with cousins, uncles, aunts and grandparents, which formed deep bonds of enduring love and care. My maternal aunt and uncle felt like a second set of parents and my cousins became siblings and mentors. Despite the early loss of my father and all the ensuing hardship, the unconditional love by not just one but many became foundational to my life.
You may have grown up playing sports or musical instruments, or as part of a debate team. You may have been able to hone skills in a way all your peers did. You may have matured in the environment of a stable home and a good university, gaining access to internships and even more skills and confidence. Until one day, you found yourself next to a teammate who seemed capable and yet somehow unexplainably different.
The unique social, structural and cultural combo of our upbringing was likely mirrored by a big chunk of our peer group. They experienced what we experienced and our overlapping spaces became our ecological niches. It was easy to imagine that every niche was like ours. But everyone gets these inflexion points, where worlds meet and we get a view into the lives of others with markedly different histories. A vantage point that can help us see our ecological niche differently and hopefully value the things we take for granted.
Our niches and their associated luck can easily become invisible. It happens to me too. The longer I live in one niche, the more I forget how people live in other niches. I also forget all the ways in which I am uniquely blessed. While I was in India recently, not once did I feel alone, unloved, or that “it was all on me”.
I read somewhere that “if our ecological niche doesn’t change, we don’t change”. Most of us may not get the chance to change our ecological niche but a great way to understand our share of luck is to befriend people from other niches. Or step outside ours for a bit.
“It is every man’s obligation to put back into the world at least the equivalent of what he takes out of it.”― Albert Einstein, Physicist
*South by Southwest, abbreviated as SXSW, is an annual conference with parallel events for film, interactive media, and music. It take place in mid-March in Austin, Texas, United States.
