Exploring my identity as a young Sikh growing up in the West Midlands

By Arjan Singh Rai

I’m Arjan Singh Rai. I grew up in a small town called Wednesfield, a diverse and multicultural town (a village before the urban expansion) in Wolverhampton, home to many Sikhs and people of other faiths. As a third-generation British-born Sikh, my exposure to my cultural heritage was limited. Unlike many British Sikhs who attend Panjabi school or grow up in culturally immersive households, my area didn’t offer those resources. I initially spoke Panjabi through interactions with my grandparents but like some British-born Sikhs, I also gradually lost fluency as I adapted to the education system. I always tell the story that despite being of Panjabi descent, I grew up on Italian food such as various pastas and I didn’t experience my culture like many others did.

Nevertheless, from a young age, I wasn’t taught about my identity except for a rare religious studies lesson at school. So, I took it upon myself to research my heritage at home. Growing up, people my age shared similar experiences and they tended to be third-generation British-born from diverse backgrounds and weren’t too familiar with their cultures or faiths either. This gave me a sense of belonging as I knew I wasn’t the only one slightly unfamiliar with my heritage, faith, and culture. However, in a wider sense, the lack of cultural familiarity left me feeling adrift, unsure of my place in my ancestral identity.

The disconnection wasn’t our fault but rather a result of our upbringing and environment, which didn’t prioritise cultural education. Some argue that it isn’t the school’s responsibility to teach cultural identity. However, If my faith was scarcely acknowledged in the curriculum, how could others gain any understanding of it? I remember a religious studies lesson where my faith was briefly covered, with the teacher reading from PowerPoint and relying on Wikipedia for information, leaving me entirely uninspired. So I can’t see how others were meant to be educated about my faith and culture either.

Continuing my education at Aston University, known for its cultural diversity, I met people with varying levels of connection to their heritage. Some were deeply rooted in their cultures, while others were eager to learn more, just like me. Though I wasn’t able to participate fully in cultural societies due to personal challenges and low capacity, I admired the strong cultural pride among students. Witnessing their strong connection to their faith and cultures motivated me to explore my own identity further.

As I grew older, I deepened my understanding of Sikhi. I learnt the significance of my Kara (one of the Five Ks), the importance of my middle name Singh (meaning lion, a key part of a Sikh male’s identity), and feeling pride in the meaning behind my name Arjan (name of the 5th Sikh Guru, Sri Guru Arjan Dev Ji, meaning “one who is strong, powerful, and bright”). Now I feel more connected to my faith. I feel proud to talk to and educate people about my faith when I can, whether it’s sharing our rich history and culture or discussing my heritage from Panjab, India. I especially feel proud to talk about how involved we are in local communities and charity work.

Seva (selfless service/acts of compassion performed without expecting anything in return) is at the heart of Sikhi. For me, it’s not just a core principle; it’s a way of life. It’s not just handing out food and water or helping someone. It’s about dedicating time, fostering human connection, grounding myself, and inspiring others. I try to share my charity work and community service with others. Not out of arrogance or ego, but in the hope of inspiring people and raising awareness. I do that to show that if a shy and originally disconnected boy from his culture can involve himself in community work, then anyone can. Seva isn’t just about grand gestures. Even the smallest acts of kindness can ripple into something bigger. Even if only one person reading this feels inspired to give 30 minutes of their time to help others, then that is my Seva to the world. Because Seva isn’t just what we do, it’s what we inspire in others.

Most days, I volunteer with charities addressing food insecurity and supporting local communities, fulfilling what I see as my duty as a Sikh.

Even now, at 23, I am actively learning. Not just about Sikhi but about other cultures, histories, and global issues. Whether it’s the Sikh Empire, the 1947 Partition, different faiths, or world conflicts such as the events in the Middle East where I now find myself on the Forum for Discussion of Israel & Palestine (FODIP) programme. Exploring my heritage and identity is essential to strengthening my connection to my faith and culture. I combine that with my desire to learn what Sikhi means. Sikh means to learn. A student of life. A learner of the teachings of our faith. Learning about ourselves.

My journey is ongoing, shaped by education, community involvement, and Seva. As a child, I was shy and hesitant to speak about my faith and culture. Now? I am immensely proud in sharing them. I feel privileged to have found my path on my spiritual journey, embracing the essence of being a Sikh, a lifelong student, always learning and evolving on my spiritual journey.