What’s in an email?
In the last six months, I have actively changed the way I write my emails. I didn’t think it would be a shock or a cause for discussion but on seeing my husband’s and my friends’ reactions, it made me realise that my single act of change has made some impact and become topics of conversation – good or controversial, I am still unsure. I am not single-handedly trying to change the way to write emails or change how society perceives women of colour writing emails, and I am not asking everyone to get on board with me, but I have realised that my email writing style has been shaped by my unconscious internalised misogyny and racism.
Recently, I found that I was taking more time crafting my introductory and concluding phrases on my emails rather than the actual content of my emails. I was quick to draft up the message that was in my email, but I would have to think of ways to introduce and conclude the email. A common concluding phrase would start with “Thanks” but oftentimes, I didn’t need to thank the recipient for anything. It dawned on me that I was finding the “Hi, how are you, hope you had a good weekend/day/week/month/life” and “Thanks and hope you have a good/warm/lovely/great day/week/month/life” tedious. I am not saying I am a rude person or an unkind person, but I am saying that I was wasting time trying to start and end my emails when I already knew exactly what I wanted to ask/tell the recipient. So, one day, I decided to send an email with a simple “Hi [reader’s name],” followed by the query and update, ended it with “Talk soon” and my name. A simple act that conveyed the who, what, when, why and how, and all done with little forethought but all of which gave me a massive relief. I felt freedom from needing to craft unnecessary niceties. So, I did it again and again, and yet again. It has become the norm for me but for people around me who find out that this is how I consciously choose to craft my emails seem to be shocked. Some have said that I am brave, some have said that it’s badass, some have said that they couldn’t do it because they might come off as rude, and some have come to the realisation that yes, it does take them quite a bit of time to formulate “Hi, how are you…kind regards.”
Initially, I brushed it off and thought no further. I was happy with myself for making the change, but it didn’t seem like it was a ‘big’ change, just a change. The more shocked expressions that I was receiving started making me think about why it seemed so radical to others. Then it started making me question my actions and gave me cause to try and understand the roots of my seemingly insignificant decision. Why do I care so much about how I structure my emails and why are my choices invoking such strong reactions from people?
I realised that the way I wrote was because of internalised societal gendered expectations to be polite, to be nice, to be sweet, and to be gracious. I realised that the way I wrote was because of internalised racial expectations to communicate like those around me. As the outsider in a community of insiders, the simple act of writing emails became a practice to mask my identity and fit in – to become and communicate like those around me. If I sound like the norm and meet societal expectations of ‘email etiquette’, using the correct colloquialisms and slangs, then maybe the recipient won’t know that I am a woman of colour who isn’t from New Zealand. My non-English name is a giveaway but maybe they will accept what I have to say if the email reads the way they would expect of a young white woman. Then my fluency in English won’t be questioned, which means that my intelligence won’t be challenged, which might mean that I have a chance to be included, which means that for a moment via the internet, I could be an insider.
If a man wrote an email without pleasantries and with an abrupt tone, he would probably get away with it because he would be seen as busy and productive, so he must not have time for pleasantries. If I or any other woman did the same, we would be seen as rude, aggressive and bitchy. Now, layer on the racial and language lens. A woman of colour would be stereotyped as not being able to speak English, and her intelligence would be questioned, and she would be seen as less than in the community.
I used to want to be the model minority. I used to want to be accepted. It is not easy always being the outsider. When every action and decision I make becomes about trying to find my place in a community that does not see me, it eventually eats away at my identity. It diminishes my voice. It makes something as simple as writing an email become a silencing act. The shift for me happened when I finished my PhD, and I was a 30-year-old woman of colour who used her thesis to share her life story of scars collected from being discriminated on all fronts. I was exhausted of being nice, even in the remote and invisible arena of emails. So, I wrote that first email without the pleasantries. When there were no repercussions, I did it again. I did it again and again, and eventually, it became my norm. I, now, see my norm as a way to create a safe space for those around me whose voice might not be heard in the simple form of communication – the email. When I break the rules of ‘etiquette’, it is my ‘radical’ act of freeing my voice as a woman. It is my pursuit to break stereotypes of people of colour and for people who are not fluent in English – for them to convey their message in their voice without feeling belittled, and to be accepted as equal. My email writing style is my fuck you to misogyny, racism and discrimination on every scale. It may be seen as brave, it may be seen as badass, it may be seen as rude, it may be seen as an affront to polite conduct, it may not be for you. It works for me, and it is one of the many steps I am taking as a woman of colour to strengthen my voice. If you did want to take this step for yourself, know that I am in your corner firing off my emails sans pleasantries.
Hi reader,
This is my message.
Reach out if you have further queries.
Dr Rhema CN