From seeing my father work as an engineer for my whole life, to being advised to go into a similar industry – or one on par with a comparable salary – the idea of working, having an income, and being in a respectable position has always been the top priority in the majority of my life, so much so that it almost always takes precedence over mental and physical health and overall vitality. 

The irony is that we spend so much of our lives worrying about money, working extreme hours and stressing beyond the job title and description that we don't really end up living much of a life. 

In a capitalist society, work and labour equates to being able to sustain a certain type of lifestyle. Of course, opportunities, salary and room for mistakes are not available or offered equally to minority groups and/or people of colour. Whether this is at the forefront of our minds and we consciously hold ourselves to a higher standard, or have internalised such discrimination and feel lesser than, subsequently pushing ourselves harder, I believe the first step in unlearning toxic behaviours is understanding where they stem from and why they continue to persist. 

I have been trying to do so by unravelling three particular streams within the migrant experience which has fed into decades of our attitude to work-life balance. 

Repercussions of colonisation

It is important to remember that many migrants come from colonised countries, the majority of which are still dealing with the repercussions of having their rights, land and identities stripped. 

India, for example, only gained independence from Britain in 1947, less than a century ago. Between the years 1880 and 1920, British colonialism killed approximately 100 million Indians. Research by historian Robert Allen, showed that extreme poverty increased in India in those years under British rule, from 23% in 1810 to more than 50% in the mid-20th century. It is also argued that prior to colonialism, Indian living standards may have been “on a par with the developing parts of Western Europe”.

In 1943, the final British-administered Bengal Famine claimed around 3 million lives. Upon asking Winston Churchill to stop shipping desperately needed foodstuffs out of Bengal, he responded that Indians were to blame for their own deaths for ‘breeding like rabbits.’

Suffering from “poverty, malnutrition, disease, cultural upheaval, economic exploitation, political disadvantage, and systematic programmes aimed at creating a sense of social and racial inferiority” – strategically stripping and stealing to belittling and blaming – it is no surprise that our psyches rewired in order to deal with such devastation. 

The scarcity mindset 

Academics define the scarcity mindset as “a mode of perception in which people perceive themselves to be in a situation where there are fixed and limited amounts of resources in demand.”

Due to the economic difficulties faced by prior generations in their colonised countries, this scarcity mindset has prevailed. The ever-increasing population in countries like India and Bangladesh means that individuals feel disposable and replaceable, and in order to combat the competition, a toxic work life is encouraged and justified. 

It is instigated early on, with a large proportion of schools operating on a six-day week with mandatory attendance on Saturdays. Not only does this set precedent for what is considered a productive and therefore worthy individual, it also premeditates students for a life of non-stop work. 

Working overtime as an adult comes naturally to those who have been part of the system. 

According to Global Wage Report 2020-21: Wages and Minimum Wages in the Time of COVID-19, India ranked fifth in the world among countries with long working hours, often stretching up to 48 hours a week. 

Similarly, the International Labour Organization (ILO) revealed that Indians are among the most overworked globally while earning the lowest minimum statutory wage in the Asia-Pacific region. 

With a population of over 1.2 billion (2021) it is apparent then that resources in India are low, demands are high and labour is easily replaceable for bigger and better. 

Personally, I've seen this scarcity mindset persist in a lot of minorities’ behaviours for example, outside their home countries in the eagerness or lack of patience when finding seats on public transport. Often I'll notice disapproving or disgusted reactions to migrants’ fervour in this regard. However, I have come to recognise it as a learnt response from a high demand, limited resources, upbringing, and mindset; if you do not push your way through and fight for space, you will be left behind.

I believe that the scarcity mindset bleeds into the toxic work ethic of migrants as we perceive resources as limited. We play a game of survival where winning is measured upon the most hours worked and most money made. Coming from overpopulation and increasing demands, but limited resources and aid, we migrants overwork in fear of not having enough, not making enough and not saving enough. 

Patriarchal society

There is immeasurable pressure for women in Indian society to make something of themselves if they do not wish their fate to be marriage. It is embedded into the culture that a woman is a liability – although specific to Hinduism, Kanyadaan or the practice of “giving away the bride”, for example,  is symbolic of transferring the responsibility of said bride onto another man from her father. Equivalent practices persist in Judaism with the tradition of Kiddushin, Muslim traditions of Nikah, and in Christianity with the “giving away of bride”. 

For many girls, from a young age, they are made aware of their fickle identities as people and the predominant idea that their worth must be proven for them to live freely and without the control of a man. 

Growing up, I was always indirectly aware that unless I applied myself in some area of study or work, the pressure of marriage would be far greater. If I wasn’t making money or working towards that goal, how was I going to sustain myself? The only logical step would be to get married off so I no longer am a burden to my parents. At least then, I would have a purpose. 

A toxic work ethic is inevitable when women are aware that they do not have the same freedom or luxury of messing around or slacking off as their male counterparts. 

Boys and men aren't married off. Their wife comes to live with their family and, they are inherently removed from having the pressure of ‘making something of themselves in a limited time’ (before what is seen as the appropriate age of marriage for a woman). If a man doesn’t make much of himself, he's not going to be forced or encouraged to marry as the liability of his wife would fall onto his parents. 

It is embedded in the culture that a woman needs to work no matter what. If she's not going to help around the house, study, or make a living, then she will be married off to help her husband as he pursues being the breadwinner – hammering in a toxic relationship to work and work-life balance. 

The National Mental Health Survey 2015-16 revealed that nearly 15% Indian adults need active intervention for one or more mental health issues and one in 20 Indians suffers from depression. These concerningly high numbers are a result of the toxic environments which persist in India but stem from the many facets discussed above. 

But perhaps detaching ourselves from the toxicity of our work behaviours starts with realising that the migrant work ethic is not "toxic", but rather a learnt response stemming from culture, years of colonisation and the lack of resources that still render many living in their home countries into poverty and impoverished living. The unravelling of ‘toxicity’ begins with questioning long-standing traditions and igniting such conversation.

Aastha Agrawal is an Indian writer and creative based in Naarm, Australia. She'd been published in the likes of Refinery29, Anthesis Journal and Fashion Journal, to name a few. Find out more about her and her work on her website, enchantedclub.net.