Cultural Confrontations: From Teacups to Transformations

Cultural Confrontations: From Teacups to Transformations

Born and raised in Kathmandu, a society characterized by an amalgamation of religions, ethnicities, and languages, I hail from a diverse and multicultural setting that has instilled in me a deep sense of empathy and the belief that respect and harmony can flourish amidst diversity and innate differences. As I look back at the years that molded me into who I am, this background combined with a series of anecdotes and personal incidents, has helped me find my true calling and now shaped my understanding of leadership in its practical sense. 

Every time I made and served tea to family members and relatives, I used a spoon to make sure all cups had an exactly equal amount of tea in them - by reducing from the cup that I had accidentally poured a little more tea into and adding to those with less tea. Even as a child, I insisted on distributing tea evenly among family members and relatives - a seemingly trivial act, but one that I believe reflects my innate sense of fairness and aversion to inequality. I observe two features here that have manifested into more advanced forms nonetheless are qualities nestled in my personality; the first being how I have always strived to meet certain personal as well as required external standards. Second and most important, is the fact that inequality and discrimination were never acceptable to me, even as a child who lived in an unexposed reality, and even before I understood the meanings of equality or justice.  

Growing up in a traditionally Hindu family while slowly becoming exposed to the modern notions of indiscrimination and inclusivity for all, the difference between my grandparents’ conventional ways of life and my father’s revolutionary beliefs and practices was one of the key factors that portrayed to me the problematic ethnocentrism that evidently lay within my own family. Another incident that struck me relates to an interaction I had with my sick grandmother when she wanted a glass of water. In our culture, women in their menstrual period are not allowed to enter the kitchen or place of worship, or in more orthodox cultures, even be in the same room as male members of the family. Originally, this comes from a practice called Chhaupadi rampant in Western Nepal, where women were banished to cowsheds on the days that they menstruated. Despite it now being illegal, the practice still exists in its traditional form in a few remote communities in rural western Nepal. The modern version of Chhaupadi, however, existed within my own household. Thus, when I stood up to get her a glass of water, my grandmother stopped me in my tracks and reminded me that I was on my monthly period. My twelve-year-old self had been heavily bothered by being restricted from going into the kitchen. Thus, I took that opportunity to say to my grandmother, “So what?” Her reply is as vivid in my mind today as it was on that very day and those that followed. “Ta Bhote ko chhori hos?” I was primarily shocked, but my young mind registered several things from this statement. The first sentiment that bothered me was how something as natural as a woman’s monthly period was considered ‘impure’, despite the awareness that it is fully essential. The unmistakable role played by the patriarchy in firmly rooting this superstition despite it having become irrelevant is what I believe made me a feminist early in life. The second aspect behind my grandmother’s statement I found absurd was that if I adopted a modern practice that nobody in my family had ever done before, I would immediately be considered an outsider. In many cultures, ‘Bhotes’ are considered ‘untouchables’, because they conventionally fall within what is considered a ‘lower’ social caste group. The realization that our society is closed towards positive change in terms of inclusivity and that it judges strictly based on its own traditional practices and understandings, seemed so deeply regressive to me. The third and final factor that I found problematic was how my grandmother meant Bhote ko chhori as an insult, which I considered outrightly unacceptable. 

Upon having conversations with my mother, I came to know that this was a superstitious tradition deeply ingrained in our culture and blindly subscribed to by generations, perpetuated by the silence that so many women were obliged to choose. I first was angry when I saw that they realized it was oppressive, and yet said and did nothing. However, I realize now that my mother and other women in my family didn’t stay silent because they were simply resistant to this change; the circumstances they would have had to face if they had raised their voices – the loss that would come from this had a bigger impact, understandably, in the choice they made. 

After starting at DNPPF 2024 and being introduced to new and unique ideas on leadership, I was able to trace back and connect many of these concepts with my own experiences. Adaptive leadership, as conceptualized by Marshall Ganz, revolves around the idea of leading through change in a way that mobilizes people to tackle tough challenges and thrive. In the public narrative leadership session in the orientation week of DNPPF 2024, we learned that leaders must develop a story of self by articulating their personal motivations and experiences to connect with others authentically. After this, leaders develop a story of us, which builds a shared sense of community and common purpose. Leaders must then communicate the urgency of the present moment and the need for immediate action. 

In the second module, we also explored the crucial concept of different types of loyalties – professional, societal, and ancestral. The challenge for adaptive leaders is to balance these loyalties with the ability to see beyond them when necessary. This concept struck me - just as I chose to be indiscriminate in something as small as serving tea and continuously confronted cultural taboos during my formative years, I now realize I somehow renegotiated my loyalties. Similarly, adaptive leadership requires not just balancing but also seeing beyond a multitude of loyalties that every individual comes with and carries throughout their life. 

Today, I am known as the feminist in my family for initiating conversations that had never happened before. This is because I personally will lose nothing (at least not much) if I speak up. I have always been known as the rebel in my family for starting fires difficult to put out, and this is a label I have happily accepted. The fact that twelve-year-old me, who lived in the walls between her home and school, was able to see beyond her societal/ancestral loyalties and be grounded in her core value of equality, gives me the motivation to speak up and drive meaningful change wherever I see injustice and oppression, and a strong sense of confidence in my ability to do so. Of course, there is a long way to go, but I am proud of the twelve-year-old Aditi who took those very important baby steps and today, I am also proud to be known as the feminist and voice of equality in my family, challenging long-held beliefs and advocating for justice. By learning to further grapple with and renegotiate professional, societal, and ancestral loyalties and knowing when to see beyond them, I believe I can become effectively equipped to drive meaningful change in society. My journey from a tea-pouring little girl to slowly becoming an advocate for equality within my family and social circles, I believe, reflects the essence of adaptive leadership: grounded in core values, yet open to transformations.