If you asked young Vishani if she wanted to attend Tamil school every afternoon after school, I would have given you a very quick “No!” I was convinced that one school was more than enough. Unfortunately, my opinion on the matter was not considered. I was a shy child, timid and quite happy to stay in my comfort zone.

Tamil school was something I was expected to attend, not something I chose out of interest.At the time, I had no idea that the place I was so reluctant to go would become one of the places that helped shape who I am today.

Tamil has always been more than just a language to me. It is a connection to my heritage, my culture and a part of my identity. Like many other South Africans, my ancestors left the port of Chennai for the sea views and sugarcane fields of Durban. I can read, write and speak Tamil, which eventually led me to achieve 96% for Tamil in matric, quite the plot twist considering how strongly I had once opposed attending.

But when I look back, the mark isn't what stands out most to me; it was my exposure to a cultural learning experience.

Through Tamil school, my teachers somehow decided that the quietest girl in the room was the perfect candidate for public speaking at eisteddfods (a showcase of culture: singing, dancing and performing)

I was terrified: The idea of standing on a stage in front of a room full of strangers felt like a custom-designed nightmare.  Yet I stepped out there anyway. First came local competitions, then regional stages and eventually national eisteddfodau. Somewhere along the way, I apparently forgot that I was supposed to be shy.

What started as something I was forced to attend became the exact environment where I discovered my confidence, proving I was capable of far more than I initially believed.

There is also a little irony in the story: the girl who used to pray the teacher wouldn’t call on her ended up choosing a career where talking to people is part of the job description.

Today, I work in HR. At its heart, it's a people-focused profession. The more I experience the world of work, the more I realise that people don't always walk into a workplace knowing their exact capabilities.

Some people are naturally confident and outspoken. Others are quieter. Some are comfortable putting their ideas forward, while others need a little encouragement before they feel ready to speak.

I understand that because I was once the quiet girl who didn't think she belonged on a stage.

My experience taught me that the right environment can bring out something in a person they didn't know was there. Sometimes, all it takes is an opportunity, encouragement and someone willing to believe in you.

That is something I want to carry with me as an HR professional.

HR isn't only about policies, procedures or processes. It is also about understanding people, recognising potential and creating an environment where people can grow. It is about appreciating that every person brings their own background, culture, experiences, and perspective.

That is where my heritage has shaped how I see the workplace.

Heritage Month reminds us that our heritage is more than the traditions we celebrate, the food we eat, or the languages we speak. It is also about the experiences that shape us and the values we carry forward.

For me, Tamil school connected me to my culture, but it also gave me something I never expected to find there: newfound confidence. When I think about the little girl who didn't want to go to Tamil school, I can't help but smile.

I went there to learn a language; I found my voice.

And perhaps that is the most meaningful connection between my heritage and my career in HR: I know what it feels like to discover a part of yourself because someone allowed you to.

Today, I want to help create those opportunities for others because sometimes, people don't need someone to tell them what they are capable of.

They need someone to give them the space to discover it for themselves.

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