Respect Your Elders (Even If They’re Toxic): Decoding the Unspoken Rules in Brown Families

"Don’t talk back." "Say sorry first, even if you didn’t start it." “Keep your head down."

If you grew up in a brown household, you know these phrases like the back of your hand. You probably didn’t even need to hear them out loud — the look in your mom’s eyes, the slight shift in your dad’s tone, the awkward silence after a family argument — said it all.

In our culture, respect is often confused with obedience. Especially when it comes to elders. You’re not really taught how to be respectful. You’re just told that elders deserve it, always. Automatically. Even if they’re wrong. Even if they hurt you. Even if your inner child is screaming that something isn’t right.

The Invisible Rulebook

Growing up brown means living under a set of silent expectations:

1. Don't question your parents.

2. Don't set boundaries.

3. Don't ever make the adults uncomfortable.

Because making someone older than you uncomfortable? That’s somehow a bigger crime than how they made you feel.

We’re raised to think that maturity is about staying quiet. That letting things go is a virtue. That swallowing your feelings is just part of being a "good kid." But what happens when staying quiet starts to hurt?

When Respect Feels Like Fear

Let’s be real: not every elder is a wise old monk. Some are emotionally unavailable. Some are harsh. Some are so wrapped up in their own unhealed pain that they pass it down like a family recipe.

And when you try to speak up? You get hit with:

⤷ "You’ve become too Western."

⤷ "Why are you always so sensitive?"

⤷ "We never did this in our time."

Respect becomes a weapon. It’s used to silence you, not support you. It’s no longer about mutual care — it’s about control.

And the psychological toll is no joke:

• You feel guilty for having boundaries.
• You second-guess your emotions.
• You tolerate toxic dynamics in friendships, school, or work because it feels normal.

You’re stuck in this loop of wanting to protect your peace but being terrified of being labelled the "bad" child. Or worse — the disrespectful one.

Can You Still Be Brown and Set Boundaries?

Yes. You can.

You can honour your culture without enabling toxic patterns. You can love your family and still say, "That’s not okay."

Real respect is not blind obedience. It’s accountability. It’s communication. It’s being able to say, "I love you, but I need to protect my peace."

Here are a few things you’re absolutely allowed to say, even in a brown household:

✦ "I’m not comfortable with that comment."

✦ "Let’s talk when we’re both calm."

✦ "This topic is triggering for me — can we skip it?"

You might get pushback. You might get guilt-tripped. You might get hit with the classic, "So now you think you’re better than us?" But here’s the truth: boundaries aren’t betrayal. They’re survival. And in some cases, they’re the first real step toward healing generational trauma.

Rewriting the Script

Cultural respect doesn’t have to mean losing yourself. You can fold your hands and say ਸਤਿ ਸ੍ਰੀ ਅਕਾਲ (Sikh greeting) while also knowing that you deserve to feel safe in every room you walk into — even the ones with your elders.

And maybe, just maybe, when you start standing your ground, the silent rulebook begins to lose its grip.

Maybe younger cousins start noticing and feel empowered to speak up too. Maybe the cycle starts to shift, slowly but surely. Healing doesn’t always look like dramatic confrontations.

Sometimes, it looks like finally saying, "That hurt me," and not backing down when the room goes quiet. So no, you’re not being dramatic. You’re not being disrespectful. You’re just tired of pretending that being quiet is the same as being okay.

And that, in itself, is the most respectful thing you can do. For yourself. For your future. For the next generation of brown kids still trying to find their voice.