Exploring Identity for Social Justice: Insights from Multilingual Speakers of English in Malaysia and Singapore

Abstract

While it has been pointed out that identity is complex, unfixed and intersectional in nature, many studies tend to be restricted by their very conceptualisation of identity, which projects a sense of purism and essentialism rooted in Global North epistemologies. In this article, we consider the concept of (diasporic) identity and discuss how labels and categories of identity often prescribed to a community can and should be deconstructed for social justice purposes. We demonstrate this by examining the translanguaging practices of six Malaysian and Singaporean speakers of English in relation to their identity perception and construction. Although these multilingual speakers seemed to regard their use of multiple languages as fixed and bounded, they all showed, to varying degrees, a flexible languaging approach. The findings also suggested a defiance of expected categories of identity defined by the Global North, such as racialised language use and diasporic identity. We suggest that these prescriptive named categories are not useful in describing identities and question the labels and categories used to construct ‘identity’. We conclude by arguing for an ‘oceanic’ approach to identity, one that emphasises the fluidity, interconnectedness and boundless potential of identity to challenge oppressive structures and contribute to a more just and equitable world.

1. Introduction

An emerging issue in the field of applied linguistics is that which concerns justice—that is, interrogating the ways that language and labellings have been used to marginalise and oppress certain communities or perpetuate ethnic-, gender-, sexuality-, environmental-, and/or socioeconomic-based discrimination (Rosa & Flores, 2017). This has manifested in research that spans such areas as raciolinguistics (e.g., Flores & Rosa, 2015; Rosa & Flores, 2017) or linguistic racism (e.g., Dovchin, 2020a, 2020b), ecolinguistics and ecojustice (e.g., Chau et al., 2025; Martusewicz et al., 2015; Mliless et al., 2025; Stibbe, 2015), and multilingualism (e.g., Chau et al., 2022; Fang & Xu, 2022; García, 2022; García & Li, 2014; Li, 2022; Li & Zhu, 2013; Zavala & Tupas, 2024). These various areas of research are all connected by how they seek to decentre dominant Euro-American centric worldviews and hegemonic discourses as a mechanism of control and restore justice to subaltern groups of people and their languaging practices (Kubota, 2020; Li & García, 2022). The complex intersections of aspects of identity found in such research (e.g., race, ethnicity, gender and class) and language have also been of increasing interest, with a burgeoning move towards exploring issues of identity for social justice (Baker-Bell, 2020; Block & Corona, 2016).

While an increasing number of scholars have suggested that identity is complex, unfixed and intersectional in nature (Block, 2013; Block & Corona, 2016; Farnsworth, 2010; Haeruddin et al., 2018; Wang et al., 2020), some seem to be still holding on to fixed-state definitions of identities and a singular view of identity, rather than acknowledging the existence of multiple identities for an individual (Gaither, 2020; Urrieta, 2017). Despite efforts to continuously push for the portrayal of identity as a dynamic, mercurial process, many studies tend to be restricted by their very conceptualisation of identity. A range of methodological choices in identity research have been subject to critical examination, such as in Waterman (2015), who notes the difficulties in capturing—or more accurately, quantifying—‘paradoxes’ in identity, when participants seemingly present one ideology, only to express a contradicting ideology at the same time. It is this apparent yet persistent practice to label or put a name to people’s subjective lived experiences and their explorations of identity, which creates a sense of purism and essentialism dictated by larger, invisible structures that maintain hegemonies (Urrieta, 2017), that we argue constrains identity research (see Bardhan & Zhang, 2017; Bucholtz & Hall, 2004).

In this article, we explore the concept of a (diasporic) identity from a Global South perspective, illustrating how multilingual speakers of English from the Global South deconstruct the labels and categories of identity often prescribed to them. Specifically, we turn to Southeast Asia, a region with a rich history of multilingual and multicultural practices since pre-colonial eras (Reid, 1990), focusing on Malaysian and Singaporean speakers of English. From here, we seek to problematise and deconstruct the notion of identity, including what constitutes a ‘diasporic’ identity from a Global South perspective, through a translanguaging lens (García, 2009; García & Li, 2014; Otheguy et al., 2015). Translanguaging, as many are aware now, suggests that multilinguals draw from a unitary linguistic repertoire, instead of storing multiple ‘named languages’ that are strictly defined by ontological boundaries (García & Otheguy, 2019; Otheguy et al., 2015). We draw upon the notion of translanguaging to explain the fluidity and dynamism of identity-making within the context of the Global South. We conclude this article by proposing an ‘oceanic’ approach to understanding and conceptualising identity. Embracing the interconnected, ever-changing oceanic nature of identity, we argue, empowers us to dismantle oppressive structures and contributes to a more inclusive and equitable future for the global community.

2. ‘Diasporic’ Identities, Multilingual Practices and Global South Knowledge

The term ‘diaspora’ has been used in the past half-century to describe ethnic communities who have left their homelands for another nation, usually either due to trauma (e.g., war or systemic discrimination) or economic opportunities, but remain oriented towards them and “preserve a group identity” (Grossman, 2019, p. 5; see also Tölölyan, 2013). As a result, many nations, usually from the Global North, have experienced an influx of immigrants, leading to a massive shift in ethnic and cultural demographics and structures, with issues of transnationality, multiculturality and multilingualism becoming increasingly salient through these mass migration patterns. This is a phenomenon which has been termed ‘superdiversity’ in the last two decades (Blommaert & Rampton, 2011; Vertovec, 2006, 2013). Currently, most of the notions and discourses concerning diasporas and superdiversity have originated from and been theorised in the Global North (Khattab, 2010). As Ndhlovu (2016) rightfully observes, this has excluded voices from the Global South. Where superdiversity is seen as novel, brought on by ‘globalisation’ processes, the reality is that characteristics associated with superdiversity, such as transnationalism, transculturalism and multilingualism, have long been entrenched in Global South communities (Makoni et al., 2023).

Multilingualism, particularly from the perspective of superdiversity, has been traditionally viewed as a non-normative practice, an ‘unnatural’ consequence of languages (and communities) that are forced to come into contact with one another (Auer & Li, 2007, p. 2). With such ideologies driving much of the history of multilingual research, it is no surprise that the languaging practices of superdiverse communities are still viewed from a deficit perspective (Schissel, 2020; Bodis, 2021); learners of an additional language will never achieve ‘native’ fluency, for example, according to linguistic standards predetermined by a political authority (Schissel, 2020, pp. 91, 93; Tavares, 2023). Yet the reality is that multilingualism is the norm, and that the Euro-American centric concept of superdiversity is rendered obsolete when it reinforces the same monolingual ideologies that superdiversity initially sought to challenge (Flores & Lewis, 2016), without taking into account the rich histories of Global South nations that often transcended cultures, communities and practices. For instance, H. Y. H. Lee (2019) noted how multilingualism has existed in Thailand for a long time and that the current situation seems to be best explained by a polycentric model and multiple hierarchical relationship among different named languages. Language users are affected by magnets of trends namely globalisation, regionalisation of major Asian languages, nationalism and urbanisation. Different groups of people are differently influenced by these forces and draw upon diverse repertoires in various communicative situations.

The current literature regarding diasporic identities, classically rooted in the Jewish diasporic experience (Bhandari, 2021; Cohen, 2022), has its dominant definition, referring to the community’s strong cultural attachment to the ‘homeland’, formulated from the North’s perspective of a diaspora (Demir, 2022). Kelley (2004, p. 41) challenges the novelty of diasporic studies, arguing that “the making of the African diaspora was as much the product of ‘the West’ as it was of internal developments in Africa and the Americas”. Likewise, Jackson (2013) demonstrates the constraints of defining a diaspora solely from a Northern perspective, dissecting the intricacies of how a ‘Nigerian’ diaspora may not even identify as part of a diaspora through Ngozi Adichie’s The Thing around Your Neck. These studies suggest that the diasporic identity of the South resists the specific traits assigned to it by the state, or by a Euro-American centric understanding of ethnicity and nationality. It is critical that issues of identity and multilingualism in the context of the Global South are explored from the Southern perspective, if we wish to enact a movement of social justice for all, where minoritised individuals and groups based on their geopolitical, socioeconomic, racio-ethnic, linguistic and/or cultural backgrounds are given equitable treatment, opportunities or privileges. We acknowledge how other scholars have previously contributed to and argued for a recentring of Global South voices and epistemologies (Makoni et al., 2023; Makoni & Pennycook, 2023; Makalela & Silva, 2023). Here, we build upon the path they have paved for us to argue for a holistic view or ‘ubuntu-ness’ in identity research in Southeast Asia, which emphasises inclusive research practices that value diverse perspectives and embraces the complexities and disorderliness in co-existence (Makalela, 2016; Makalela & Silva, 2023).

3. Multilingualism and Transculturalism in Malaysia and Singapore

We first present some background information about Malaysia and Singapore. These two countries largely consist of three major ethnicities: Malays, Chinese and Indians. Based on Demographic Statistics (2025), the Malays form the largest ethnic group in Malaysia, representing 58.1% of the 34 million-strong population (Demographic Statistics, 2025); they are also known as ‘bumiputera’, or ‘sons of the soil’, a term used to claim indigeneity and ownership of the land (Ibrahim, 2013). However, it is critical to note that there are also other non-Malay bumiputeras in Malaysia, who are ethnic minorities and form 12.3% of the population. Meanwhile, the Chinese and Indians represent 22.4% and 6.5% of the population, respectively. Conversely, the Chinese are the majority in Singapore, comprising 74% of the total population, whereas the Malays and the Indians represent 13.5% and 9%, respectively (Singapore Department of Statistics, 2020). Here, we focus primarily on the (non-)diasporic translanguaging experiences of these three ethnicities, although we also acknowledge the unique and complex languaging practices of the minority Indigenous groups, as well as the significant number of foreign workers residing in Malaysia and Singapore.

What we currently recognise as ‘Malaysia’ and ‘Singapore’ were part of British Malaya under colonial British rule pre-1957; this did not include the island of Borneo, part of which is currently known as East Malaysia. Compared to the ‘native’ Malay population (a loose racialisation of descendants of Indonesian seafarers and Indian-Muslims; see Embong et al., 2016; Khattab, 2010), the Chinese and Indian diasporas, as part of British colonial imperatives concerning the economy, are mostly descended from labour forces shipped into the Malayan Federation from their homelands (Gabriel, 2011). As suggested by Kahn (2006) and Khattab (2010), the Malays can also be considered as diasporas, defined by the hybridity in their culture. This was a result of cross-border contact with various Asian regions, such as Southern India, China and other Southeast Asian nations, especially those situated in modern-day Indonesia (Amrith, 2013; Reid, 2001). Clearly, more complex political issues can arise from considerations of this kind. Within this melting pot of cultures and communities, individuals were designated ethnic identities and were expected to act within the boundaries defined for each ethnic group (Reddy & Selvanathan, 2021; C. B. Tan, 1997).

It is based on this perspective of what the Malaysian and Singaporean ‘diasporas’ look like that we consider their languaging practices. In addition to the colonial legacy of English, three other languages, Malay, Mandarin and Tamil, are the most widely spoken languages in these two countries (Bolton & Ng, 2014; Pillai et al., 2021; Rajendram, 2022). Yet, while these two countries may share the same languaging practices on the surface, in reality, they have departed along vastly different routes in language planning ever since their separation in 1967. Malaysia, in recognising the value of language in nation- and identity-building, established Malay as its national and sole official language (Y. S. Tan & Santhiram, 2017), rejecting English on the basis of anti-colonial sentiments (Alsagoff, 2017; Noor & Leong, 2013). The National Language Act in 1967 established Malay as the primary language of education; English was still included in school curriculums as an official second language. Vernacular schools offer Mandarin and Tamil as language subjects, but Malay is still the medium of instruction in all other subjects (see Pillai et al., 2021).

Singapore, on the other hand, embraced its postcolonial heritage as a measure to rapidly industrialise the country post-independence (Alsagoff, 2017). As an island nation with scarce natural resources, it was deemed crucial by the then-fledgling government that its citizens were proficient in English, the lingua franca of commerce, science and technology. At the same time, cultural heritage was seen as a quintessential pillar to support Singaporeans’ national identity. Four official languages coexist in the country, although English is used as the medium of instruction, commerce, administration and science and technology in the country. Mandarin, Malay and Tamil, also dubbed ‘mother tongues’, are compulsory subjects that each ethnic group must take in their schooling years up until secondary school. Interestingly, Malay is listed as the national language in the Constitution of Singapore, but its role is certainly symbolic and ornamental when compared to the marked prominence of English. As pointed out by Shang and Zhao (2017, p. 9), English is, in fact, the “de facto national language” in Singapore (see also Alsagoff, 2017; Tang, 2020).

Both Malaysia and Singapore present intriguing cases of a ‘settled diaspora’, where the constant flows of migrants and the people’s adaptiveness to the various other cultures they come into contact with produce a seemingly single integrated, assimilated culture, either of which is considered ‘Malaysian’ or ‘Singaporean’. However, it is important to note that the education systems in each country—the Chinese and Tamil vernacular schools in Malaysia and the ‘mother tongue’ classes in Singapore—have perpetuated a co-naturalisation of race and language (Rajendram, 2022; Pak & Hiramoto, 2023), where the Malay language is associated with the Malays, Mandarin with the Chinese and Tamil with the Indians. At the grassroots level, however, languaging practices in Malaysia and Singapore are reflective of in-between cultural spaces, which we now turn to in the next section.

4. Translanguaging in Identity Formation Among Multilingual Speakers of English in Malaysia and Singapore

Originally introduced by Cen Williams (1994) to refer to the concurrent use of English and Welsh in class, translanguaging has rapidly evolved from its pedagogical roots to refer to the naturally protean languaging practices of multilinguals (García & Li, 2014; García & Lin, 2017). According to García (2009, p. 140), it is an act where a bilingual/multilingual accesses “different linguistic features or various modes of what are described as autonomous languages, in order to maximise communicative potential”. Linguistic features or modes that the bilingual/multilingual accesses are stored in a single, aggregated system (Otheguy et al., 2015), where the user selects and utilises features from their repertoire that are appropriate in a sociocultural situation (Canagarajah, 2011; Velasco & García, 2014). Simply put, translanguaging is fluid and dynamic, and is a constant, unbounded process of meaning-making (García, 2014).

Translanguaging has gained immense popularity since its introduction into mainstream research on multilingualism. There were, for example, 895 journal articles published on the topic of translanguaging in 2023 alone, compared to 37 published in 2013 (see https://www.lens.org/, accessed on 11 November 2024). Of all these articles, most still originate from Global North regions, namely the U.S., the European continent, Australia, and Canada. Recently, however, there has been a burgeoning interest in the translanguaging practices of communities from the Global South, captured saliently in the works of Ndhlovu (2018); (Ndhlovu & Makalela, 2021) and Makalela (2016, 2017); (Ndhlovu & Makalela, 2021) (see also Pennycook & Makoni, 2019; Makoni & Pennycook, 2023). Comparatively, however, far fewer studies on translanguaging have been conducted in Malaysia and Singapore, with multilingual research in these two nations more often focusing on practices from a code-switching and/or code-mixing perspective (e.g., Ahmad & Jusoff, 2009; Ariffin & Husin, 2011; C. L. Lee, 2003; Lyu et al., 2010) and on the interplay between these practices and identity construction (John & Dumanig, 2013; Nair-Venugopal, 2003; Stroud & Wee, 2007).

Studies conducted with a translanguaging label in Malaysia and Singapore have tended to explore perceptions and ideologies concerning translanguaging (Rahman et al., 2024; Too, 2023), observable practices in academic settings (Shah et al., 2019; Ting & Jintang, 2020), and practical functions in a pedagogical context (Ooi & Aziz, 2022; Vaish & Subhan, 2014). There are two studies, however, that are relevant to a consideration of translanguaging and identity in linguistically complex communities. Ng and Lee (2019) examined the translanguaging practices and identity shaping among five young Malaysian graduates through their use of digital media. Specifically, they looked at both the translanguaging practices in their emails and on social media (i.e., WhatsApp and Facebook Messenger) in a workplace setting. What they found was very much congruent with previous findings in identity studies—that is, identity comes with a variety of permutations, even within a singular ‘category’ of people (e.g., Li & Zhu, 2013). It was also suggested that translanguaging practices were prevalent amongst all five participants, in spite of the formal nature of the workplace, which would usually call for a ‘monolingual’ approach to languaging. This, in turn, helps to build not just an individual identity for the Malaysian graduates but also fosters a communal identity. Meanwhile, Rajendram (2019) focused on the affordances and constraints of a translanguaging pedagogy in a Tamil primary school in Malaysia. In her ethnographic study, Rajendram explored how the Year 5 students engaged in translanguaging practices during collaborative learning sessions. She demonstrated how Tamil school students, as part of a minoritised community in Malaysia, asserted their cultural identity through translanguaging practices. In these studies, identity construction through translanguaging was not limited to an individual’s identity, but a collective, shared understanding that fostered a sense of belonging.

This brief review suggests the need for more research on translanguaging in Malaysia and Singapore. In this article, we hope to contribute not only to this area of research in these two countries but also to the discussions on language and identity relevant to the wider Southeast Asian community and to the Global South as a whole. The excerpts and the relevant analysis we present in this article are part of a larger research project conducted in 2020, comprising a total of 130 undergraduate students from Malaysian and Singaporean universities. Six participants were selected, representing the three major ethnicities residing in Malaysia and Singapore. Following Li and García (2022), we explore the complexity of languaging within multicultural, multilingual communities and show how these languaging practices contribute to the construction and deconstruction of identities using these six cases. The six individuals were all 18–25 years old when the study was conducted. Pseudonyms are used to refer to each one of them in this article. It should be pointed out that the six multilingual cases considered are intended to be illustrative, serving to raise questions and stimulate discussions about the nature of identity in diverse cultural and linguistic contexts.

We follow Li’s (2022) choice of not italicising any ‘foreign’ words (e.g., ‘aku’ or ‘lah’) in the participants’ utterances. To the authors, these ‘foreign’ words are, in fact, part of the languaging process that the participants utilise in their day-to-day lives. This is part of our effort to normalise and valorise what are traditionally seen as ‘deficit’ or ‘different’ forms of English, such as Malaysian English and Singaporean English in this case.

5. Languaging Practices in Multilinguals’ Lives

In this section, we will describe the six multilinguals’ experiences with translanguaging as well as their opinions regarding it, where we present the individual cases by country; subsequently, we discuss these practices and perspectives as a collective whole.

5.1. The Malaysian Multilinguals

Among the Malaysians, Clare, a Chinese multilingual, described herself as being most comfortable with English, followed by Mandarin and Malay, and has a rudimentary understanding of Hokkien. She shared that her family shuttle between English and Mandarin during their everyday conversations, yet Clare’s parents converse in Hokkien with each other. This, as well as her experience of studying in a national school, where Malay and English were the main mediums of instruction, has led Clare to learn how to draw the appropriate linguistic resources with her audience, and hence translanguaging is something she engages in quite often.

I would say quite often … especially when you’re speaking to someone who is better in one language and you’re using another language. For example like when I’m speaking to my—again—Chinese speaking friends, sometimes I use English and they cannot really understand what I’m trying to say, so I use Chinese to explain to them.

(Clare)

The next individual, Kaliesha, a Punjabi multilingual, was most comfortable with English, followed by Mandarin, Malay and Punjabi. Like Clare, she selects and appropriates linguistic resources accordingly as she moves between various communities in her circle: in general, English with her family and friends, Mandarin with certain groups of friends, and Malay during formal classes. Interestingly, even though she is Punjabi herself, Kaliesha rarely has the occasion to utilise the language, and claimed to have a cursory understanding of Punjabi. Like Clare, again, she shuttles between named languages quite often, especially when conversing with her Mandarin-speaking friends:

Especially when you’re speaking in Mandarin and you can’t think of a certain word in Mandarin, and the first word that comes to your mind is something in English. Then that’s when language mixing happens for me lah.

(Kaliesha)

Lis, a Malay individual, on the other hand, mainly uses Malay or English within her social groups, but also shuttles between the two named languages depending on her audience, especially with her friends:

Well, we would just say something like, “You guys, nanti let’s go to—let’s go to lunch sama-sama nak?” Yeah it’s like that. Let’s go to lunch, it’s in English. “Sama-sama nak tak?” like in Malay. Like that.

(Lis)

While the Malaysian participants all practised translanguaging (albeit to different degrees) in their lives, they also shared the idea that named languages were discrete, separate entities:

I just perceive people who use only one language to be more firm on their point compared to people who mix languages in their debates.

(Kaliesha)

Well, for my classes, all of them solely use English but for the faculty classes that I had before, some of them mix languages and I honestly did not enjoy them.

(Lis)

Because you see to me I feel that it’s more professional always when you speak to—speak in one language, you consistently speak in one language rather than you mix languages kind of thing…

(Clare)

5.2. The Singaporean Multilinguals

The first individual from Singapore, Jean, a Chinese female studying Industrial Systems Engineering, predominantly uses English in her everyday life. She also speaks Mandarin with certain groups of people and noted that she keeps her colloquial Singlish—or ‘Singaporean English’—to a minimum:

…most of my friends speak English. It’s more like if I have to order stuff at a hawker centre and like it happens that it is a Chinese speaking like vendor and then I speak in Chinese. Or if it’s like the cleaners around school then I usually speak in Chinese lah…

(Jean)

Like, maybe a bit [using Singlish], but not to say a lot.

(Jean)

The second Singaporean individual, Rafiq, a Malay male Linguistics student, described himself as fluidly shuttling between English—viewing his own English as Singlish—and Malay, which he used at home as well as with other members of the same ethnic group.

And for English basically I use it in school and basically for like university purposes and like, communication in Singapore in general… And Malay is basically my home language. I use it a lot at home, basically all the time. Cause I have a grandpa who speaks Malay all the time, and my close friends speak Malay. I think it’s more of like our comfort language.

(Rafiq)

I would think my variant of English is Singlish.

(Rafiq)

Lastly, Kumar, an Indian male studying Mechanical Engineering, predominantly uses English in his everyday life, and occasionally Tamil with his family. He also understands and speaks basic French. However, he stated that he would use Singlish more often in everyday circumstances.

So with more familiar friends I tend to switch to Singlish. Also with—like unfamiliar friends or people I meet who tend to speak that way so if they can’t speak formally I would also speak to them in the same way so that it’s approachable. Like so that I’m approachable. So that extends to anyone that speaks—that tends to speak Singlish.

(Kumar)

All three Singaporean speakers of English have divergent practices of languaging, and have divergent opinions regarding the practice, though as a whole, English seemed to be the ‘de facto’ language for the participants (Shang & Zhao, 2017). While Singlish is considered as a ‘variety’ of English in a more conventional sense (Kachru, 1981; see also Harada, 2009; Kareba et al., 2022; Low & Azirah, 2012), it was regarded by Rafiq as a different language. Rafiq explicitly stated that Singlish is a different language from English:

I think I would classify it as a—a different language, by virtue of how like specialised it is like it only exists in Singapore…

(Rafiq)

Kumar, on the other hand, viewed Singlish and English more as part of a unitary linguistic system, as he did not feel that he was explicitly moving between two named languages when he shuttled between Singlish and English.

I’d consider it dialect, perhaps yeah. Yeah. I’ll call it a dialect…you could say I code switch a bit? Like I would go from speaking properly to like more Singlish. That’s—but that doesn’t equate to switching languages, like I’m not actually speaking a different language. I’m just like, the accent—my accent and the words I use changes based on who I’m talking to and what the purpose of the conversation is.

(Kumar)

Meanwhile, Jean clearly considered Singlish as a “subpar” version of English:

… I think Singlish itself is not professional…So whether or not it’s in a formal or informal context… It doesn’t matter lah.

(Jean)

Interestingly, at the same time, Jean also presented an apparent holistic view about language use in her description of Singlish. While linguists have continuously attempted to identify features of Singlish that originate from other named languages (e.g., Goh, 2016; Lim, 2011; Ningsih & Rahman, 2020), she noted how she does not need to know different named languages, such as Hokkien and Cantonese, in order to converse in Singlish:

I just see it as part of Singlish because like, like you say lah it’s a mixture of other languages like Hokkien and Cantonese but I don’t even know any of those languages. I just know the term and like what it means and that’s why I use it.

(Jean)

The various perspectives on Singlish, though divergent, also share a single common thread—that the components constituting Singlish itself are ‘fuzzy’ and not easily defined. In some sense, the Singaporean multilinguals were defying state-sanctioned and linguistically defined expectations of language, demonstrating how Singlish cannot be captured by fixed definitions and strict boundaries, even as a ‘basilectal’ variety of English (Harada, 2009).

5.3. Translanguaging Practices Multilingual Malaysian and Singaporean Speakers of English

As a whole, both groups of multilingual speakers of English from Malaysia and Singapore appeared to adapt very well to various social situations, moving between their families, their different groups of friends, their university communities, as well as the larger communities they are embedded in. For example, Rafiq and Kumar had a flexible, pragmatic approach towards ‘language mixing’ or translanguaging, recognising that it was a useful tool in communicating ideas or presenting themselves to be of better social standing.

[in regards to Singlish use] As long as it’s effective, I can understand, it’s fine.

(Kumar)

Like—like…for example, for a short example, like if I were to call an operator—maybe I’m calling like Apple, to say like I need to repair my MacBook, like I would heighten my English usage a bit more just on purpose… It’s a bit bad, but like I guess sometimes I do that just to like…get better service maybe?

(Rafiq)

Yet at the same time, we observe that some of the individuals seemed to have a fixed, bounded idea of what language looks like, naming their linguistic repertoire as comprising ‘Mandarin’ and ‘English’ or ‘Malay’ and ‘English’. Lis, Kaliesha, Clare and Jean were of the opinion that translanguaging was only acceptable in ‘informal’ circumstances, for instance, and translanguaging by extension was a corrupted or unprofessional form of language. Clare shared that it was more professional to converse in a single named language, explicitly referring to her background as a Law student as a reason why she felt that way:

So I’m—I’m in law school and to me I feel that it’s more professional if you stick to one language, which is usually entirely in English or in BM [Bahasa Malaysia/ Malay]…Because you see to me I feel that it’s more professional always when you speak to—speak in one language, you consistently speak in one language rather than you mix languages kind of thing, so… I—so it can help people to understand yes, but it might not be that professional to me lah.

(Clare)

These multilinguals placed distinct markers on where ‘English’ ends and where ‘Malay’ begins, or how ‘Singlish’ can be distinguished from ‘English’. Yet interestingly, translanguaging practices seemed to come reflexively to all of the individuals, being highly contextualised and audience-dependent, without much reference to how they are expected to communicate as members of a certain named ethnic group or nationality. Though seemingly contradictory, we find it noteworthy that these paradoxes co-exist for the participants. In the next section, we explore how their languaging practices, while appearing to sometimes be at odds with their verbalised perspectives on language, aid them in indexing both ethnic-based and ‘contradictory’ identities.

6. Translanguaging and Identity

In this section, we discuss each of the multilinguals’ experiences with how they exercised translanguaging to assert or index their identity. We present the cases not in terms of nationality or the named languages they speak, but in terms of how each individual’s cases reflect or contrast with one another’s.

6.1. Lis and Rafiq

We start our narration with Lis, who—as discussed in the previous section—viewed the two named languages, Malay and English, in her repertoire as discrete. In this sense, she subscribed to a ‘two solitudes’ approach (Cummins, 2005), which involves a strict separation of languages in education institutions. This approach is reflected in how Lis utilised the two named languages, Malay and English, with different groups of people. She highlighted that she almost exclusively used Malay with her family, and either Malay or English with her friends.

…I’m a Malay-based family so I use Malay more often in my family, with my family members. But when I’m with my friends I tend to use English more… If it’s my high school friends, then mostly I would just use Malay but my university friends, since I’m taking English Literature I would just speak fully English.

It appeared that Lis rarely felt the need to index her own identity through shuttling between named languages, as she was seemingly comfortable with conversing in a single named language at any one point in time. Yet at the same time, she also expressed that due to the Malaysian languaging environment, she translanguaged to fit in with the communities she interacted with:

I don’t wanna be that person who doesn’t mix languages because other people do that.

On the flipside, as part of a minority ethnic group in Singapore, Rafiq explained that he enjoyed asserting a distinct ‘Malay’ identity for himself through utilising the Malay language among peers who shared a similar linguistic repertoire. To him, it was a comfort language. This was mostly due to his home environment, as his grandmother was Indonesian.

And like my grandmother is from Indonesia… So like… I have to speak in Malay lah, since a young age. So— If not she wouldn’t understand me…

(Rafiq)

Through this, he found familiarity and comfort in Malay, even though the dominant named language in Singapore is English. He then found creative, marked instances where he was able to shuttle between Malay and English, clearly experiencing great joy in exerting such practices. This can be seen when he narrated a languaging trend among the Malay students in his university:

Okay so like…there were instances…there are instances where we say like… “Aku was makan at the Deck.” … Yeah, like that kind exists now. Like it’s slowly gaining…popularity. Or… “Aku was studying.”

[Note: ‘Aku’ means ‘I’ in Malay, and ‘makan’ means ‘eating’ or ‘to eat’.]

When probed as to why the Malay students at his university practised such language conventions, Rafiq replied as follows:

I just realised that … I suppose that we’re really using the language to like mark our identities, and like…a very confusing identity that we have in Singapore.

At the same time, he lamented that he was unable to utilise as much Malay in his languaging practices as he would like to, especially when conversing with the younger Malay Singaporean students inducted into his university. These younger Malays, from his perspective, were raised to speak English since birth, and thus distanced themselves from what he saw as a Malay identity:

…they…call us like very pak cik you know. Like we speak Malay, and they’re like, “Oh my God you’re so pak cik.” Then I’m like—like this is how we speak. This is our language. Yeah, so—so they do categorise it as a old person kind of language, even though I’m just like 24 and they’re like, 21 or something. But yeah they view us quite quite pak cik lah.

[Note: ‘Pak cik’ means ‘uncle’ in Malay.]

Yet as he reflected upon the fact that it was these ‘Anglicised’ Malays who constructed the unique expression of inserting ‘aku’ into English phrases, he articulated how this purposeful translanguaging expressed their (Rafiq and the younger Malay students’) own identities in being part of the Malay ethnic group in Singapore.

So I guess with all those conflicting identities, or maybe they’re not conflicting, but in an attempt to just like demonstrate that, oh we are this this this this this, all at the same time, we—we use those kind of substitutions lah, like ‘aku’ to signify like “Oh I’m Malay speaking, but I’m just using English to kind of adapt”, or to…to somehow cope with the fact that we’re university students, and we’re supposed to, you know, be more comfortable with English and all that.

(Rafiq)

This is an interesting case where translanguaging was considered to be contributing to purposefully marking an ethnic identity. In Rafiq’s case, it was used to mark a Malay identity between him and his fellow younger Malay interlocutors and among the younger Malays within the university context. This is an example of how languaging aids in indexing identity. To Rafiq, translanguaging with Malay and English indexed a Malay ethnic identity within Singapore, where the majority of the population is of Chinese descent. Conversely, using ‘English only’ indexed a non-Malay identity. The dynamic shuttling between these identities in Rafiq, between ‘Malayness’ and ‘non-Malayness’, alludes to how transcending languages means transcending cultures, between ‘Malayness’ and ‘non-Malayness’, and projects a strong cultural identity of an ethnic group, especially in the context of English-dominated Singapore. In contrast, Lis, who is from Malaysia, saw no need to particularly index a ‘Malay’ identity, as Malay is also used significantly in her everyday life. These two cases alone demonstrate the diverging perspectives and identities of people from a single ethnicity, where their respective circumstances and languaging practices denote how they choose to position their identities.

6.2. Clare and Kaliesha

Next, we examine the cases of ‘migrant’ communities in Malaysia and Singapore, starting from cases from the former nation. We return to Clare, who as a Malaysian Chinese would usually be expected to primarily use Mandarin or a Chinese dialect in a Malaysian context. Instead, she shared that she was most comfortable with English. Note how Clare used the word ‘unfortunately’ when sharing that most of her friends were Mandarin speakers:

Yes [English is my first language]… Usually I speak in English and BM [in formal contexts]. And for informal especially with my friends I use Chinese. Occasionally English. Because unfortunately most of my circle of friends are Chinese language speakers. … But my preferred—preferred language is English.

(Clare)

Clare also divulged an interesting anecdote about languaging practices in her faculty, where instead of solely shuttling primarily between Mandarin and English with her friends, they bring in a third named language, Malay, to emphasise a point:

There’s a phrase going around in my faculty, where to annoy people we—When somebody says something, instead of just saying okay, noted thanks or something, you just say faham.

(Clare)

Note: ‘Faham’ means ‘understand’ in Malay; or as Clare has already explained herself, it means ‘noted, thanks’.

This use of ‘faham’ in this situation is notable as the interlocutors were all, in this case, of Chinese descent, as Clare shared with us. Yet they also transcended the boundaries of a ‘Chinese’ identity and were clearly purposeful in using a Malay word with other Chinese students. The way they languaged is not bound by racial expectations of language, but rather is reflective of the larger multilingual Malaysian environment.

Similarly, Kaliesha, a Malaysian Punjabi, shared that she was more comfortable with English instead with Punjabi: more interestingly, she expressed that she was more comfortable with Mandarin than with Punjabi, the common language used among the Punjabi community:

Okay. So I speak mostly English and Mandarin and also Malay. In daily life I usually use English and with friends, uh most of my Chinese friends I speak Mandarin. And I learned Mandarin from being in a Chinese school when I was in—being in a Chinese primary school… my Punjabi is not that good because we don’t practise much at home.

(Kaliesha)

As Kaliesha and Clare’s cases demonstrate, multilingual communities cannot be identified solely by their ethnicity or the languages they are typically expected to use as part of that ethnic group identity, as this discounts the diverse, creative translanguaging practices they constantly engage in (Ndhlovu, 2009). A neat racial and linguistic categorisation or an assumed racial-linguistic correspondence is to be questioned, such as associating someone of Chinese descent with a person who speaks Mandarin or other Chinese dialects, or an individual of Punjabi descent with a person who speaks Punjabi as a dominant language. The act of co-naturalising languaging practices with one’s state-defined ethnicity (Rosa & Flores, 2017) places restrictions and assumptions upon an individual and sorts them into boxes that do not capture the full breadth of their experiences. This is incidentally also a colonial, Euro-American centric practice that has proliferated the mainstream discourses of today (Gargroetzi, 2024). Returning to our study, through breaking free of these ‘linguistic boxes’, we can see that the participants indexed both ‘conventional’ and ‘non-conventional’ identities shaped by ever-shifting sociocultural spaces.

6.3. Kumar and Jean

As Rafiq’s case from earlier demonstrates, English is indeed the dominant language of Singapore, where everyone is expected to converse in English, regardless of racial identity. This practice can be observed in Kumar, who grew up shuttling between English and Tamil in his household, due to the fact that his parents usually conversed in Tamil with him. Unlike Rafiq, who developed a strong sense of attachment to Malay (his home language), here Kumar shared how comfortable he was with English. He almost exclusively utilised English with his friends:

I don’t have like a group of Indian friends. So even my, like, the few Indian friends are like amongst the bigger group. If by chance it’s just the two of us, like me and the other guy that are like—we find ourselves alone, then we can possibly switch to Tamil? But some of them I know—some of them who are more comfortable they would at least speak to me in Tamil. But because my Tamil is not great, I’ll end up replying in English. But besides that, with most others, most of my friends aren’t Indian so like, it’s… I’m alone… It’s fine. I’m not like left out.

(Kumar)

Despite Kumar, as part of a minority group in Singapore, not having many social spaces to use Tamil in Singapore, he did not feel as though he was left out of the larger community. In fact, he shared how English—or more precisely, Singlish—was useful for capturing certain ideas and bridging gaps of understanding between Singaporeans, narrating an account of a professor of his who utilised Singlish when delivering classroom content. This was done in spite of the formal situation, where a monolingual ideology was valorised, and even though the professor was aware that there were international students who did not know Singlish. For instance, he pointed out that the professor, when demonstrating a piece of fluid mechanics equipment to Kumar and his coursemates, used the word ‘kiap’.

I’ve had professors switch to Singlish, but not—so like Singlish would like very generic Hokkien terms and so on, so those are terms I would know and understand… I had a professor use ‘kiap’. Like you kiap together. And he was trying to show us what it looks like.

(Kumar)

To the average Singaporean, they would immediately understand ‘kiap’ to refer to the motion of clipping something using a two-pronged tool, ranging from tweezers and hair clips to clothespins and thongs. Instead of criticising the professor’s practice, Kumar expressed great respect for him, citing him as someone who graduated from MIT and was considered a prominent scholar in the field. Here, for Kumar, speaking Singlish or English mattered less to him so long as the content of the message was delivered effectively.

In contrast to Kumar’s professor, who used Singlish in a formal lecture, Jean respected people who are highly proficient in English, and not Singlish. She expressed that she would not enjoy lectures that were delivered in Singlish, and criticised how a Singaporean minister did not utilise ‘proper’ English when addressing his audience.

[Referring to lectures] It just doesn’t feel that right for him [a lecturer] to be using that much Singlish in… when he’s actually teaching something proper?

(Jean)

[Referring to a Singaporean minister] Maybe younger generation lor like he wants to like be able to relate to them better that’s way he uses Singlish but I think is not that appropriate because…Like I say lah it’s like as a minister and you’re giving a speech that goes out into the government into like, like even the world speech, you wouldn’t want to sound so casual and, and like it’s just like how you relate to someone.

(Jean)

Although Jean occasionally used Singlish to communicate with others, she also stated that she was conscious of these instances and tried to avoid using Singlish if it was not necessary.

I think cause I’m quite aware of what I’m speaking. Like I actually write like a script. So I know not to include all this Singlish.

(Jean)

Additionally, while she had some understanding of Mandarin, she found it of little use in her context, only using it when conversing with canteen or hawker centre workers or Chinese nationals visiting Singapore. She stated the following:

…but I don’t know why like we just don’t see an interest in learning Chinese, cause like—we already are strong in one language.

While her account is wildly different from Rafiq and Kumar’s experiences, this is nonetheless a significant expression of her own identity. Jean descended from the Chinese diaspora and would be expected to have strong ties to her ‘motherland’, and with Singapore’s mother tongue language education system, where all schoolchildren are required to attend either Mandarin, Malay or Tamil language classes, she might also be expected to have a strong sense of ‘Chineseness’. If we were to subscribe to expected raciolinguistic performances, Jean would demonstrate significant use of Mandarin. However, Jean’s unique claiming of English, a language supposedly associated with Anglophonic regions, highlights her own lack of connection with the Chinese ‘diaspora’.

6.4. Identities Among Malaysians and Singaporeans

In some sense, Jean and Kumar’s experiences are similar to Clare and Kaliesha’s. Where the Singaporean Chinese and Indian pair positioned themselves as being more comfortable with English, thereby distancing themselves from their ‘mother tongues’ (i.e., Mandarin for Jean, and Tamil for Kumar), the Malaysian pair indexed a flexible identity that can be perceived as—in Rafiq’s words—’confused’. For Clare, it means regularly languaging with Malay and Mandarin, although English is her preferred language. As mentioned earlier, she started to wield Mandarin more often simply because her current environment demanded it so. Additionally, though she claimed to have a basic understanding of Malay, she had to use it regardless due to the nature of the legal system in Malaysia, which is in both Malay and English.

BM [Bahasa Malaysia/Malay] I’m not that—I’m not that great at it, though I went through quite a few years learning it. But my BM language is mostly just for informal contexts. My formal one is a bit rusty.

(Clare)

A similar case was observed for Kaliesha, who pushed beyond what she dubbed as her limited understanding of Mandarin in order to connect with her coursemates, as the majority of those she came into contact with were Chinese. At the same time, she tried to convey meaningful phrases utilising the full breadth of her linguistic repertoire, drawing resources from her different named languages whenever necessary. Still, she made it clear that English was her preferred language of communication.

Or like some things in Mandarin like there’s no English word for it or you can’t think of a proper, suitable word for it, then that’s when you mix a language lor. Or sometimes like when you’re talking about something then you thought of the Chinese word but you can’t think of what it is in English or vice versa then that’s when you mix language lah.

(Kaliesha)

The experiences shared by Jean, Kumar, Kaliesha and Clare suggest how the Chinese and Indian diasporas of Malaysia and Singapore resist the traditional notion of diasporic communities (Gabriel, 2011) and choose specific ways of languaging to express their unique identities, existing in a transcultural space. It is evident that they have moved away from a traditional sense of identity as defined by ethnicity, the ethnicity’s associated language, and country of origin.

For the Malaysian and Singaporean participants, translanguaging—or even a lack of it—is to a great extent a signal of their identity; it was also a way through which they expanded or strengthened their social identities. Lis, though only using either Malay with her family or English with her university coursemates, shuttled between languages to create a sense of belonging within the community. Rafiq, meanwhile, asserted creative manners in his language use to index a Malay identity in English-dominated Singapore. Kaliesha and Clare, who were more comfortable with English than other named languages, only started using Mandarin when it became the dominant language within their social groups. Jean and Kumar, though possessing different perspectives on Singlish and how it is positioned against English, are similar in a sense that in their view, English is the main medium of communication, and Mandarin and Tamil, while still useful with certain groups of people, remain largely unused in their day-to-day experiences. As can be seen, every individual’s translanguaging experience and identity is unique, though they also share some common languaging practices.

7. Deconstructing Labels and Categories as Identity

While the Malaysian and Singaporean multilinguals each presented distinctive accounts of their language use and identity, they also revealed how they indexed and expanded their identities through their transcultural languaging practices, as they constantly traversed different social groups. They marked what they wanted to express through specific language choices, whether it be through their translanguaging practices or by explicitly stating their positioning. This supports previous studies that postulate identities as unfixed and dynamic (e.g., Block, 2006; Onorato & Turner, 2004). Identities are discursively constructed and negotiated as discourse participants navigate and shift through different identity indexing during interaction (De Fina et al., 2006). Identity positioning is creative and oftentimes chaotic, which is reflected in what was shared by the multilingual speakers of English in this study.

Although the multilingual speakers themselves provided labels and descriptions for their translanguaging practices and ethnic identities, there were times when these state- or socially- defined labels for ethnic groups and language did not wholly capture their experiences. These speakers, in expressing a sense of belonging and identity, capitalised on their languaging practices to express a unique translingual and transcultural identity. This is in line with the ‘fuzziness’ reported in previous studies regarding diasporic identities, which “extend far beyond ideas about ethnicity” (Blunt, 2016, p. 205). Koh (2016), for example, highlighted the lack of connection between the Malaysian Chinese ‘diaspora’ (in this case, the ‘diaspora’ refers to Malaysian Chinese who migrated out of Malaysia) and the politically defined nationality or ethnicity; instead, the participants in the study resolutely referred to their families and friends as their definition of ‘home’. A more politically driven case of the shifting identities of second-generation Austrian-Egyptian youths was highlighted in Müller-Funk (2019): while these youths initially identified themselves as both Austrian and Egyptian, their focus shifted more to the Austrian context following politically linked violence that started to plague Egypt from 2011, leading them to distance themselves from an Egyptian identity. Koh (2016) and Müller-Funk (2019), though presenting seemingly disparate cases of ‘diasporic’ identity, demonstrate how identity ebbs and flows, is never constant, and cannot be siloed within state-defined boundaries. Just as in Kaliesha’s case in the present study, who had expanded her languaging practices and defied expectations of what a ‘Punjabi’ should know or do, the ‘second-wave’ Malaysian Chinese diaspora discussed in Koh (2016) and the Austrian-Egyptian youths reported in Müller-Funk (2019) defy fixity and consistency in their identity.

7.1. On Labels and Categories

Obtaining a glimpse into the lives of the multilinguals in Malaysia and Singapore helped us to realise the divergence of their translanguaging practices and identities. This is especially contrasted against static, rigid definitions used to categorise people, which are traditionally rooted in Global North epistemologies. The ‘fuzziness’ in identities and translanguaging practices from the part of the Global South considered in this study brings into question the very idea of labels and categories. As we label a person as speaking ‘English’ or ‘Malay’, or as part of the Chinese ‘diaspora’, we create assumptions about the identities they represent and the (oftentimes, Euro-American centric) norms that they seem to be expected to adhere to. This prescriptive approach towards identity has been dubbed ‘categorical thinking’ by Macrae and Bodenhausen (2000), which has long-standing effects on sorting phenomena and people into neatly labelled boxes, disregarding the continua and complexity of the natural world, and selectively organising traits into ‘categories’ (Young, 2016). While some scholars such as Quinn et al. (2007) submit that these categories can both facilitate and inhibit the process of understanding others during social interactions, we suggest that these labels, in fact, do more harm than good. Ecojustice scholars and feminist scholars have cautioned against the oversimplification of labels; the former postulate how the labels we choose to prescribe to our natural environment perpetuate its systematic destruction through anthropocentric thinking (e.g., Martusewicz et al., 2015), whereas the latter highlight the (often) horrifying normalisation of derogatory labels and sexist language used to characterise women (e.g., Felmlee et al., 2020; Swim et al., 2004).

For example, although our participants fit the ‘conventional’ definition of a ‘diaspora’, as they are descendants of immigrants (e.g., Rafiq mentioned that his grandmother is Indonesian), they clearly do not define themselves as part of a ‘diaspora’. While they certainly still embody cultural customs or practices that are common within their ethnic group, such as in their languaging choices, not all of them identified themselves solely based on how ‘Chineseness’, ‘Malayness’ or ‘Indianness’ should be like (except for Rafiq, who suggested that translanguaging with Malay and English in Singapore contributes to a Malay identity). Instead, most of them were carving out an expanding identity; they seemed to be transcending the boundaries of culture and were continuously moving in between liminal translanguaging spaces as they came into contact with various social groups. In this sense, what Global North scholarship has defined and labelled as a ‘diaspora’ is clearly to be questioned. In the Malaysian context, for example, Gabriel (2011, p. 342) succinctly notes that “the newer [Chinese and Indian] generational descendants now define their cultural identity in terms of a ‘Malaysianness’”, although the very idea of ‘Malaysianness’ can itself be challenged. The issue that Gabriel raised was a point we have emphasised in this article: that such diasporic or colonial notions as ‘race’ and ‘language’ can conceal rather than inform a true understanding of the complexities of identity. In a similar vein, while the Chinese and Indian migrants shipped between the 1810s and the 1910s to Singapore can be considered ‘diasporas’, the descendants of the migrants themselves challenge this perspective by considering themselves Singaporeans (see Ho, 2020; Rai, 2008; Yap, 2000), although of course just like the notion of ‘Malaysianness’, a ‘Singaporean’ identity can be challenged. The Malays of contemporary Malaysia and Singapore, in general, also do not consider themselves diasporas. This lack of connection with a ‘diasporic’ identity is also very much reflected in the findings of the interviews with our Malaysian and Singaporean university student participants.

7.2. On the Limitations of Labelling

To further illustrate the limitations of prescribing labels for identity, we again return to cases where the participants did not conform to the language co-naturalised with their race: Kaliesha, despite being of Punjabi descent, preferred to speak English, and used Mandarin more than Punjabi with her circle of Chinese friends at her university; Clare, of Chinese descent, used Mandarin only because ‘unfortunately’ her current group of friends were mostly Mandarin speakers; Jean, another individual of Chinese descent, felt little need to use more Mandarin, as English was enough for her; and Kumar, an Indian Singaporean, turned out to be more comfortable with English even though his parents spoke to him in Tamil at home. Even Rafiq, though representing a different case, shared how his practice of languaging with English and Malay defied an expectation of an English-speaking, ‘Singaporean’ identity. These participants, in their comfort with using languaging practices that were not ‘expected’ of them, demonstrate how the boundaries placed upon the labels or names for these ethnically or linguistically labelled communities are not useful in aiding to truly clarify or define identity. Through a multilingual lens, we can see how an exploration of our participants’ languaging practices can challenge the “ethno-linguistic divisions and separatist ideologies of the past” (Makalela, 2015), reconstituting the definition of what a ‘Chinese’, ‘Malay’, or ‘Indian’ situated within Malaysia or Singapore looks like. As Kurzban et al. (2001) aptly observe, categories, and even a notion as ‘fundamental’ as ‘race’, can be deconstructed if approached from a different lens.

As the cases of these Malaysian and Singaporean speakers of English suggest, identities and their co-naturalised languages are far less simple than the ‘characteristics’ we tend to assign to them. On paper, these participants fit into racialised categories that are part of a colonial legacy (Bardhan & Zhang, 2017), but their practices defy the expectations that come from these ‘races’. It is clear that to define the languaging practices and identities of people from the Global South based on the scholarship mostly produced in the Global North would not do their lived experiences and practices justice. The labels and categories placed upon what constitutes identity, we suggest, are to be questioned; they are evidently binding the very theorisation and understanding of identity itself, largely defined and shaped by Global North scholarship. Rather than adopting a general (Euro-American centric) rubric of what constitutes identity and language, we argue for the deconstruction of the very notion of identity and language and consider instead a broader perspective that takes into consideration locally grounded, Global South contexts. Conforming to Euro-American-centric metrics only erases and silences diversity and alternative epistemologies, even in a supposedly diverse area of research, such as in diasporic studies. It is essential to acknowledge the divergence, complexities and intersectionalities in identity if social justice is to be propagated effectively (Pugach et al., 2019), and that not all people who belong to the same ethnic, racial, gender or socioeconomic status on paper possess similar ideologies. The very notion of social justice or ‘human rights’ itself has, after all, only been beneficial to communities who already have ‘human rights’ (Suárez-Krabbe, 2015). There is an urgent need to highlight and question the “implicit belief that knowledge produced by authors in the global North about societies and individuals in the global North is more generalisable than knowledge produced by, in, and about peoples in the global South.” (Castro Torres & Alburez-Gutierrez, 2022, para. 29). This means that the very idea of identity and language, with all its labels and racialised definitions, cannot be accepted as the universal truth for communities residing outside the North.

Scholars in African Studies and other such related fields have long fought for valorisation of their rich, complex histories that propagate the very fluidity and dynamism that are only now being recognised by dominant Global North communities (Heugh et al., 2021). In the healthcare industry, ethnic labels for descendants of African diasporas have also wrought much confusion. Agyemang et al.’s (2005) review of these ethnic labels calls for specificity in such labels in order to better understand these populations and to provide better healthcare systems beyond simple binary distinctions, such as White/Black categories. In a more contemporary example, Tyla, a South African woman making waves in the North American music industry, has resisted being labelled as ‘Black’ by her American audiences, releasing a statement on her Twitter account—now known as X—to proclaim that she is considered ‘Coloured’ in South Africa, despite its derogatory connotations in North America, and that “race is classified differently in different parts of the world” (Barrett, 2024). We find similarities in Barrett (2024) and Agyemang et al. (2005), where it seems that there is a constant demand for people of the Global South to fit into Global North narratives of identity and how it should look. For example, it might be argued that Jean should not have claimed to see no need for Mandarin and feel that her mastery of the English language was sufficient for her, if we were to follow the racialised expectations of a Chinese descent’s languaging practices. However, in claiming English as a strong foundation for her identity, she resisted traditional static labels of identification, just like in Agyemang et al. (2005) and Barrett’s (2024) cases.

7.3. On the Need for a More Inclusive Identity Theorisation

In this article, we have challenged, through the illustrative cases of Malaysian and Singaporean multilinguals, the identity theorisation traditionally from the Global North. To push for an equitable world means to acknowledge, include and value ways of being, knowing and doing beyond Euro-American norms. A critical assessment of theories that have long been accepted as objective and true is always called for (Held, 2019; Thambinathan & Kinsella, 2021), such as the very notion of ethnicity and language. In the present study, Clare’s practices would quite naturally lead to a consideration of her as a ‘native speaker of English’, as it is her ‘first’ and ‘preferred’ language. Ethnically, she is ‘Chinese’. Conventionally, she would be labelled as Chinese. Is this, however, an accurate, all-encompassing descriptor of her? To call her ‘English’, instead of ‘Chinese’, would imply a different connotation, though it is also accurate in a sense that she was languaging primarily in English. Or should we label her as ‘Chinese-English’, despite the term not taking into account the evident complexities in her languaging practices, such as when she used Malay and Mandarin in tandem? This example demonstrates the evident problems that arise if we accept fixed labels and categories as true, for these very labels and categories do not fully capture the sheer complexities and intersectionalities that are embedded in an individual’s identity. We support the call for scholarship from the North to not generalise its findings derived from Northern communities and claim universality (Keim, 2023; Sondarjee, 2023; Zeleza, 2007), like assuming that a ‘Chinese’ identity in the Global North would be the same ‘Chinese’ identity for an individual in the Global South. As we have discussed earlier, even a concept as ‘inclusive and diverse’ as a diaspora can be questioned when one interrogates the roots of such labels prescribed to diasporas.

Recentring Global South epistemologies has also been part of a decolonial call to research, to shift away from Euro-American-centric epistemologies and rediscover alternative ways of thinking that have often been violently eradicated through colonisation processes (Chalmers, 2017; Maldonado-Torres & Cavooris, 2017; Ndlovu, 2014). The decolonisation movement, in calling for the resistance of labels and terms originating from the Global North (Makoni et al., 2023) disputes socially unjust inequalities in academia that marginalise Global South citizens and their locally rooted knowledge production (Eybers, 2019). Our article is in line with this resistance, demonstrating and arguing how labelling and categorising people according to their perceived identities has created more limitations than allowing us to scrutinise the real racial and political inequalities associated with each of these ethnic and linguistic categories. If identity is to be utilised to empower people, the current conceptualisation of identity needs to be questioned and deconstructed.

8. An ‘Oceanic’ Approach to Understanding Identity

In the light of our discussion, we propose that identity be reconceptualised and approached as ‘ocean’. We use ‘ocean’ as a metaphor that challenges rigid, fixed notions of identity and instead embraces fluidity, interconnectedness and boundlessness.

8.1. Identity as Limitless and Unbounded

The ocean is vast, deep and ever-changing, with no inherent boundaries. Similarly, identity can be seen as a dynamic, evolving construct that resists confinement. Just as the ocean flows freely, identity is not static but is shaped by experiences, relationships and contexts. This perspective rejects the idea of identity as a fixed, unchanging essence and instead views it as a continuous process of becoming.

For example, ethnic or linguistic identities are often treated as fixed categories, but in reality, as illustrated in this article through the six multilingual cases, they are shaped by historical, social and cultural interactions. Just as ocean currents mix and merge, identities are constantly influenced by external forces and internal transformations. This oceanic view emphasises the interconnectedness of all identities, highlighting how they overlap and blend rather than exist in isolation.

8.2. Humanmade Boundaries as Disruptions

In the ocean, humanmade boundaries—such as aquaculture pens or territorial waters—are imposed to control and exploit natural resources. These boundaries disrupt the ocean’s natural flow and ecosystem. Similarly, the boundaries we place on identity—such as racial, ethnic or national categories—are artificial constructs that serve specific social, political or economic purposes.

Colonial powers, for example, often imposed rigid racial and ethnic categories to control populations and justify exploitation (e.g., Baker, 2024). These boundaries, while socially significant, are not inherent to human identity. They are tools of power that can limit our understanding of ourselves and others. By recognising these boundaries as humanmade, we can challenge their legitimacy and work towards a more inclusive and fluid understanding of identity.

8.3. The Ecological Perspective: Interconnectedness and Diversity

The ocean is a complex ecosystem where diverse forms of life coexist and depend on one another. This ecological perspective can be applied to identity, emphasising the interdependence of different identities and the importance of diversity (cf. Pretty et al., 2009). Just as the health of the ocean depends on the balance of its ecosystems, the richness of human identity lies in its diversity and interconnectedness.

This approach encourages us to move beyond binary thinking (e.g., ‘us’ vs. ‘them’) and embrace the multiplicity of identities. It also highlights the harm caused by imposing rigid boundaries, which can lead to exclusion, discrimination and conflict. By adopting an oceanic view, we can foster a more inclusive and harmonious understanding of identity that celebrates its fluidity and diversity.

8.4. Identity as a Site of Resistance and Liberation

The ocean’s boundless nature also symbolises resistance to control and domination. Just as the ocean cannot be fully contained, identity cannot be entirely defined or controlled by external forces (cf. Jefferess, 2008). This perspective empowers individuals and communities to reclaim their identities from oppressive systems and redefine them on their own terms.

For example, marginalised groups have historically resisted imposed identities by asserting their own narratives and creating new, hybrid identities. This act of reclamation is akin to the ocean reclaiming its natural state by breaking down artificial barriers. By embracing the oceanic nature of identity, we can challenge oppressive structures and envision a more liberated and equitable world.

8.5. Implications

Adopting an oceanic view of identity has practical implications for how we navigate social, political and cultural issues. It encourages us to:

• Question rigid categories: Recognise that identities are fluid and overlapping, and avoid reducing individuals or groups to fixed labels.
• Promote inclusivity: Create spaces that celebrate diversity and allow for the free expression of multiple identities.
• Challenge power structures: Critically examine how boundaries are used to maintain power and privilege, and work towards dismantling them.
• Foster empathy and understanding: Recognise the interconnectedness of all identities and cultivate a sense of shared humanity.

All this has important implications for education and policymaking. Adopting an oceanic approach encourages a more inclusive, equitable and empathetic society. By recognising the fluid and interconnected nature of identity, we can create educational systems and policies that celebrate diversity, promote understanding and empower individuals to navigate the complexities of a multilingual and multicultural world. This approach not only enriches individual lives but also strengthens the social fabric, fostering a more harmonious and just global community.

Before turning to the conclusion section, we invite researchers from other regions of the Global South to explore their own community’s unique understanding of identity and language and share with us their findings. We believe it is through a diverse range of sources of insight that we are able to learn and embrace alternative epistemologies. Future research might also consider conducting longitudinal investigations to explore issues of language and identity. This would make possible observations about changes in multilingual, multicultural identity over time. Additionally, we also wish to acknowledge the limitations of the labels of ‘Global North’ and ‘Global South’. These terms should not be taken as binaries with clear cut definitions between them (Trefzer et al., 2014), as there are Global South communities in the Global North, and vice versa, Global North communities in the South: these terms are more complex than the geographical division they suggest. More importantly, we would like to see more research conducted with individuals or communities subjected to a history of misconceptions or unequal treatment due to unexamined labellings and categorisations, and how such research contributes to capacity building for positive personal and social change, which ultimately addresses issues of justice and equity.

9. Conclusions

In this article, we have questioned the existing construction of identity by considering through six cases how multilingual speakers of English from Malaysia and Singapore adopt different approaches to translanguaging and how their translingual, transcultural backgrounds reflect and shape their complex, dynamic identities, removed from the notion of a ‘homeland’ or co-naturalised notions of race and language. While the six cases discussed are by no means strong evidence for generalising Malaysian and Singaporean translanguaging practices and how they are interrelated with identity, we hope the discussions and insights offered in this article have successfully raised some important questions and encouraged critical reflections.

We have further argued for reconceptualising identity as an ocean. Adopting an ‘oceanic’ approach to identity has profound implications for creating and promoting inclusive education and policies. This oceanic approach to identity also offers a transformative way of thinking about who we are and how we relate to others. Viewing identity as an ocean challenges the artificial boundaries that divide us and emphasises the fluid, interconnected and boundless nature of identity. By embracing this oceanic approach, we can move towards a more inclusive, equitable and liberated understanding of ourselves and the world around us. Just as the ocean defies containment, identity, in its truest form, resists limitation and thrives in its limitless potential.