Rima Azar and Mark Milke, The Western Standard, February 8, 2023

Just before Christmas, the former “Lady in Waiting” to the late Queen Elizabeth, Lady Susan Hussey, apologized for what some asserted was a racist question: “Where are you from?”

Lady Hussey asked the question to Ngozi Fulani, founder of charity in the United Kingdom. When Fulani noted she was from Hackney in the UK, Lady Hussey followed up with, “No, what part of Africa are you from?”

When Fulani tried to explain that no records were left about her ancestors, the Lady pressed on, quasi-demanding to know Fulani’s nationality and where her and “her people” were “really” from. After a few more back-and-forths, Fulani let the Lady know she was born in Britain, of African heritage, and Caribbean descent and that her parents had emigrated to Britain in the 1950s.

Read through the thread and it does appear that Lady Hussey subjected Fulani to an intense barrage. Fulani argued the questions were racially loaded, but later (after Lady Hussey apologized) noted no malice was intended.

But whether you agree with Fulani (racially loaded questions) or think the barrage just rude in its rapid-fire insistence with a few clueless assumptions thrown in (our view), it would be unfortunate if people stopped asking strangers, “Where are you from?” That’s because knowing more about randomly-encountered strangers helps us understand people’s histories, stories, struggles and triumphs. It often breeds sympathy and sociable behaviour, badly needed nowadays.

For example, one of us (Mark) recently chatted with an Iranian immigrant, Amin, who spoke of why he left his home country two decades previously. He said it was due to Iran’s repressive, theocratic regime. He described his sadness at how Iran’s historic faith was being manipulated by Iran’s mullah’s and religious police. It was a poignant conversation, but one that never would have occurred without asking about his origins.

I also recently had a delightful conversation with someone who adopted my childhood hometown, Kelowna, as her own almost three decades ago. Mulu noted how she first moved from Ethiopia to Montreal, and then Kelowna, in 1996. What was touching about the conversation was that she was working in a seniors’ home, helping to take care of my mother.

I relayed how just one block away from where she now worked with my mother and other seniors was my childhood elementary school, where my mom used to volunteer on “play day” every June. I loved that a newer Canadian who cherished Kelowna was now helping care for my mom just one block away from that school. That conversation too would not have occurred without my curiosity about a woman with an accent and her history.

One of us (Rima) has also had such pleasant encounters with strangers ever since arriving from Lebanon more than three decades ago. The Canadians I’ve met ever since have been unfailingly good-hearted. On my small town’s streets in New Brunswick, I am moved when cab drivers honk their horns and wave hello as it reminds me of my childhood neighbourhood in Beirut. Similarly, when I visit the beautiful beaches, villages, and cities of New Brunswick, I encounter kind people who talk to “strangers” like myself, making us feel welcome.

I suppose one could take offense at some questions. When I first moved to my town, people used to ask my spouse and me: “Are you from far away?” or even “very far away?” because of my accent.

For some in our easily-offended world, such questions are supposed to be off-limits. For me though, they show curiosity: “Are you from far away?” Is there anything more accurate, benign, and lovely than that? I am originally from very far away… yet the questions, curiosity, and care, make me feel rooted, connected, and welcomed.

Once, in a Tim Horton’s in Moncton, a senior asked me if he could touch my curly hair (most have straight hair around there). My response: “Of course, why not? Go ahead sir!” with my spouse’s amusement.

Conversely, when I visited the village of Bouctouche once, I bumped into a group of men speaking Chiac, an Acadian-French mixed with English. Fascinated, I asked if I could record a snippet of their conversation to share with my sister abroad. They generously accepted. As my husband and I chatted with them, we compared Québec’s French with the dialects in Lebanon with New Brunswick. It was a lesson in how we as Canadians can/should be curious about one another’s origins without being offended.

Sure, the question “Where are you from?” could be perceived as an insult, implying “You’re not from here.” Sometimes it is annoying when one is born in Canada, but because of colour or other feature, a stranger assumes a Canadian by birth is from somewhere else.

Nonetheless, in our experience, it’s a mistake to assume inherent “racism”, or that such questions always imply non-belonging.

Most people just have a natural curiosity, and occasional mistakes aside, asking someone where they are from is a wonderful way for all of us to learn more about each other.

Rima Azar is an associate professor of health psychology, Mount Allison University, Sackville, New Brunswick, and a senior fellow at the Aristotle Foundation for Public Policy. Mark Milke is the president of The Aristotle Foundation for Public Policy. His newest book is The Victim Cult: How the grievance culture hurts everyone and wrecks civilizations.