Where are you 'really' from? That was always a loaded question for me in England. As a teenager in the early '90s, I got asked this question at the bus stop in East Ham, East London. "I'm English," I replied, possibly too loudly. A woman shouted back, "You're not English! You're a subject of the Queen!"
It's hard to believe that actually happened, but it wasn't the only time.
Those of us from a certain background—or should I say, skin tone—know the question, “Where are you really from?” and the rage that ignites each time it’s asked. It carries an implicit message: you clearly don’t belong here, so where are you “really” from? I love this video below. The tiresome look she has when she is asked that question is spot on:
In the mid 90s, I was living and working in West London when a Southern Irish person told me to go back home. I yelled back, "Pay for my travelcard and I'll make my way back to West Ham!" It got a few laughs, but I still felt the rage and the unfairness. I was born, brought up, and had lived all my life in London, yet I did not belong. A white guy who didn't even have a British passport felt more entitled than me.
Racism in Spain
Now, having lived in Spain for almost three years, the question feels different. In Valencia, a port city accustomed to a melting pot of cultures, people are genuinely curious. When they ask where I’m from, I say London. I’ve never quite felt comfortable saying I’m English since that incident at the bus stop, but here, I’m accepted as English.
I’m not suggesting that racism doesn’t exist in Spain; it’s just different and often aimed at specific groups. In England, the targets were anyone who was brown. Although even as a teenager I knew I had more privilege than my Muslim friends at school. In Spain, I know I have privilege too. Those of Black African or Caribbean, Latin American, or Gypsy/Roma descent have experiences vastly different from those of South Asian origin. This became painfully clear when a few Valencian football fans were recently sentenced for racist abuse against Real Madrid’s Vinícius Júnior—the first conviction of its kind related to a football match in Spain.
¿de dónde eres?
We're currently travelling around Spain in our campervan. Yesterday, we stopped off to have lunch in a lovely restaurant. I love that the Spanish adore children. One of the waiters was chatting to my youngest, Fínn (8), and asked him, "Where are you from?"
Fínn, who usually isn't short for words in English or Spanish, was silent. My husband jumped in and said he was from Ireland, I'm from England, and we live in Valencia.
Afterward, we had a chat as a family. Fínn admitted he had no idea what to say. He doesn't feel Irish, English, or Spanish. My eldest, Taigh (11) said he didn't feel Irish or Spanish—maybe English—but felt most comfortable saying he was from London. He remembers London and was born there.
I admitted I felt uncomfortable when Tim said I was from England. I'm from London. It's different.
I remember solo backpacking around Europe, Australia, and Asia in my 20s and 30s, feeling more English abroad than I did at home. That clearly hasn't changed.
The Cricket Test
I've noticed a great deal of hypocrisy around migrants in the UK and Spain. I detest the phrase "ex-pats." It's really just another word for white migrants, implying that brown migrants are actually refugees or asylum seekers. I find this frustrating as my parents were ASKED to come to Britain as Britain needed workers.
I often think of Tebbit's Cricket Test. How many English people in Spain would pass this test? Norman Tebbit, the former MP for Chingford, made his cricket test remarks in 1990 in an interview with the Los Angeles Times. He argued that immigrants and their children could not be considered truly loyal to Britain if they supported the cricket team of their country of origin.
"A large proportion of Britain’s Asian population fail to pass the cricket test," he said. "Which side do they cheer for? It’s an interesting test. Are you still harking back to where you came from or where you are?" https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2014/nov/28/lord-tebbit-migrants-grandfather-war
Local friends of ours from England posted on Facebook that they were supporting Spain in the European Cup final. The vitriol they received from English people living in Spain was unreal. We asked our children who they would be supporting—this led to a minor argument between my husband and me. Being Irish, he supports Ireland and anyone that plays against England. He told the kids they "should" support Spain. I said to go with their heart. My eldest's heart told him to support Spain. My youngest wanted to support whoever his mum was supporting.
I said to my husband and kids that I believe, it's only when you start watching, whether you believe you are neutral or not, that your heart will choose a side. When Palmer scored, there was no doubt who I supported. How do you end a lifetime of supporting a team just because you live in a different country? If Spain were playing anyone else, I would support them. Well, currently the Olympics are on. Growing up, as my parents were Malaysian Indian, we felt we had a stake in those two countries as well as Great Britain.
International Connections
Returning to my children, in a few years, they will have spent more time in Spain than in England. They are already bilingual and have Spanish friends. We’re integrated and fully involved in local traditions and festivities. I believe they will always feel a connection to England and Ireland, but soon they will likely say they’re Spanish. Does that make me sad? Not at all. It means they see themselves as European, part of a bigger picture.
As for me, I’ll always be a Londoner living in Spain. My accent, my humour, my personality give me away. Like many Londoners, I’m open-minded, embrace other cultures, love to experience new things, and will chat with anyone. In fact, I feel a greater sense of belonging here than I ever did in the UK.
Acceptance
Recently, the news about the Southport riots in the UK, where the murder of three young girls was hijacked by racists, has deeply unsettled me. Muslims and other brown people now feel even less safe and even less like they belong. The rhetoric and violence have intensified, further marginalising communities already struggling for acceptance. It's a stark reminder of why the question, "Where are you from?" can be so fraught with tension and pain.
Loyalty
Another thought I often ponder is the concept of loyalty and patriotism. As someone who has studied and taught history for decades, I am keenly aware of its significance during the Reformation. Back then, the pressing question was whether Catholics were loyal to the King or the Pope. How different is that from the way Muslims are spoken about today? Muslims are often discussed as if they are a monolithic group, which is far from the truth. When I look at footage of the rioters on the streets of Southport, I question their patriotism. Do they really love their country, or are they tearing it apart? True loyalty builds up a nation; it doesn't destroy it.
Tips
For some reason, it’s the English who often struggle with how to ask about my background. For example, a Canadian friend in my choir came over to say goodbye after our summer concert in June and awkwardly mentioned that the new English guy in the choir was asking where I was from. The Canadian had said London. This wasn't good enough for the English guy. He had said I didn't look like I was from London. I'd been chatting with this English guy earlier in the day and couldn't understand why he didn't just ask me directly. The video below is funny and accurate:
Perhaps it's the fear of offending. So, here are some tips on how to ask about someone's background:
Be Direct but Polite: Instead of beating around the bush, it's better to ask straightforwardly but respectfully. For example, "Do you mind if I ask about your cultural background?"
Show Genuine Interest: Frame your question in a way that shows you're interested in their story, not just ticking a box. For example, "I'm really curious about different cultures. Can you tell me more about your heritage?"
Avoid Assumptions: Don't assume based on appearance. Preface your question with a context that makes it clear you're not stereotyping. For instance, "London is so diverse. I'd love to know more about your roots."
Be Open About Your Intentions: Sometimes it helps to explain why you're asking. For example, "I'm always fascinated by people's stories and backgrounds, and I'd love to hear yours if you're comfortable sharing."
Respect Their Comfort Level: Be mindful of the person's comfort. If they seem hesitant or uncomfortable, don't push further. You could say, "I understand if it's a personal topic. I'm just genuinely interested in getting to know you better."
Final Thoughts
Personally, I believe my family background is fascinating. It spans six countries and is steeped in British colonial history. But I'm unlikely to talk about any of that if I get asked, "Where are you really from?" Or 'Where are you originally from?'
In fact I get excited when some asks me rather than tells me where I'm from. I once had someone ask me the origins of my name - that was a lovely chat. By approaching the question thoughtfully, you can expect a more respectful and meaningful conversation. After all, understanding each other’s stories is the first step toward genuine connection.
Malarvilie Krishnasamy is a Leadership Consultant, Coach & Facilitator. She is really from London but now lives in Spain with her husband and 2 children.
If you're interested in MalCPD's coaching or training packages, get in touch here: hello@malcpd.com
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