The surname. It idendifies your tribe, it allows you to find others that are related to you in some way or form, and it is a required attribute to trace and build your family tree. It is also an integral part of any government which you reside or serve under.
My family background is from Mauritius. It’s where my parents were born. I was born and raised in the United Kindom. Over the years, especially since University – the first time in my life where I came into regular contact with other Mauritians, I came to realise how much Mauritian people attempt to big themselves up with their surname.
Fuck that, what is this?! The middle ages? What a pathetic concept to try and rub off onto other Britons and British Mauritians in general. The age of the surname meaning anything at all has long gone. In any modern culture, whether this be westernised or not, have moved far beyond the surname holding any meaning due to history. It is exactly that… it holds history and only history. I believe that bringing this up in modern day in order to achieve a higher status above someone else is absurd and patronising. This is exactly what I experienced at University; I was approached by a friend who recently discovered I had a Mauritian background – and almost immediately starts asking me if I have heard of the surname “blahblahblah”. This had already happened a few times, interestingly, with only Mauritian nationals living in London.
Like everyone else that has said this to me, I said “no”. They immediately proceed to bang on about how their grand dad or some member of their family built a school and how it’s extremely prestigious (probably around 8000 years ago). I stand there, pretending to look interested, out of shear politeness and respect- but the truth is that I want to smack them in the face, get them in a headlock and vigorously rub my knuckles against their head whilst saying “stop kidding yourself… stop kidding yourself…”.
In this day and age, respect is achieved through academic, technical and intellectual merits of achievement. They are not achieved through expecting someone to believe that what some member of someones family has built in the past (if it even happened at all). We live in an unfortunate world where the lack of immediate proof will undoubtably earn you no trust in anyone you try to fob off with the history of your Mauritian surname.
Deal with it, and move on.
Image Credit: Island Crisis
This weekend there was a demonstation in London, demonstrating spending cuts that the UK governments are making in order to save the countries desperate financial situation. I’m neither here nor there about the spending cuts – all I know is that, well, it needs to be done. We are in a desperate, depraved situation. This demonstation was organised by the TUC (Trades Union Congress), and around 250,000 – 500,000 people turned up … there’s going to be some riots.
I’ve been working Saturdays now for the past two weeks in an attempt to meet deadlines – and this particular Saturday morning on the bus to work, I was sat at the top deck, at the front (as if I was driving it, y’know?) – and started to noticed small crowds forming at multiple points across London city centre. At this point I had no idea that there was a demonstation happening, and couldn’t figure out for the life of me what was going on that day – as all I saw were hippies with drums and other hippies. Now, I don’t know if hippies will think of any excuse to smoke a reefer or bang a drum for no reason, but I assume that hippies will just come along for the ride – no matter what the demonstration might be about. The demonstation eventually turned into this. All I know, is that no-matter how large the crowds are, the government are not going to listen.
This Demotivational Monday is dedicated to Riots and Hippies – keep fighting the good fight… right?