I am checking my privilege: Colour does define you!

Tensions of race tend to ebb and flow in society. Heightened at times, forgotten at others. The situation in America right now is a moment of height for the war against racism. “Enough is enough” is the feeling of Americans, because they are tired and they are angry. They are tired of hurting as a collective for the continuous pointless killing of black people. The fact is that America is not alone in this. Countries all over the world feel the effects of racism against black people and other ethnicities. This racism is so deeply embedded in society that it is not a surface-level problem. Institutional racism is evident and disguised on many levels in society and while countries may feel the effects in different ways, racism is always there. I would like to add my voice to the cause, to say my perspective on racism as a white person who learnt that colour does not define you. I was wrong.

Colour in our society is a huge defining factor.

I grew up post-apartheid with parents who knew that discrimination was wrong and unjust. I grew up with the message that I must not determine my feelings towards a person based on the colour of their skin. I was taught that we must love who we love and no skin colour should determine who we love. I learnt to look past the colour of one’s skin. So I based my liking of a person on their personality, how they carried themselves, who they were as a person. Thus, I had friends from different races, I was in social circles with a mix of colours and I respected regardless of skin colour. It became normal for me to have some of my closest friends coming from different races. I never saw it as abnormal to be close to people of colour. It was ingrained in me that colour did not matter. I was wrong. Colour does matter.

Growing up in a model C school, where I sat in classrooms with a mix of races, where I shared desks with black guys, coloured guys, whatever race guys and girls. I grew up with what I thought was a very good message, be colour blind. I was wrong. While, the message that I was taught was good in the sense that it made sure that I did not pre-judge anyone based on their skin colour, and that I treated everyone the same. The problem with this philosophy was in that word I used, “colour blind” because it made me blind to the issues of races, it made me blind to the continued racism which is seen in society today. It blinded me of my privilege as a white person. It gave me the impression that apartheid was the worst of history and things had been rectified. Black people can vote, can sit anywhere on buses, can go to the same beaches as us. They even sit next to me in school now. I could not have been more wrong. Institutional races was not taught to us. I can easily blame the school system for not teaching us the reality of racism back then and now, I can blame the media for not speaking out more, I can blame so many institutions and people for this outlook on race that I had. Yet, it is so important that I blame myself. I could’ve known better; I could have done better.

I didn’t, that’s on me.

Racism in school.

In school, I felt that we were fairly progressive, that racism was not a big issue in the school. I sat with people of colour, I played sport with people of colour, I had sleepovers with people of colour. I failed people of colour. A few years after leaving school I heard of a racist incident that had occurred at my old school. I was shocked by it, but what shocked me even more, and gave me a reality check was people from my grade, my school friends, guys I sat next to in class. They posted that this was nothing new to them and they were familiar with racism at that school, it hit home for them. I had failed them. Not seeing what they had experienced, not being open enough for them to talk to me about it, or just being plain blind, I had failed them. I had come to know racism more and more after school, seeing more incidents and just how deep the dirty beast of racism was. This opened my eyes up even more. I then started to realise what I’ve seen in many posts lately, it is not enough to not be racist, we need to be anti-racist. This was the first of many lessons I would learn about racism. This is just proof that I know so little about racism, what it does, how it makes people feel, and this is because of my privilege. My privilege sheltered me from the extent of racism. Despite me seeing the police brutality, the racist remarks on social media, the institutional racism, I still cannot fully understand what racism does to a person, how it makes them feel, or their experiences, and I can never know this fully. Because I am privileged. I can only try and understand, I can only try and help, I can only try and do my best to right the wrongs of our society.

I am sorry.

I am sorry that I didn’t educate myself more. I am sorry that I didn’t look deeper into the experiences felt by my friends and social circles in school. I am sorry that I didn’t know better. I do know better now, and so all I can do is be better, do better, try harder to speak out. To be a voice for those who have none, or whose voices are stifled by the institution. I am privileged. It is time that I use my privilege as a white person to speak out. As a woman, I have acknowledged that when it comes to Gender-based violence issues, we need men to step up and fight with us from their safe and privileged platform. So it is only fair that I do the same as a white person. I am deeply sorry for the times that I was too timid to speak out, the times that I was too shy to say what I felt. I am guilty of laughing off the veiled racism amongst white people that I have been around. Just as I am guilty of laughing awkwardly when men have made sexist and harassing comments to me as a woman. Being shy and anxious does not help my case. It is time that this changes, I will no longer laugh it off, I will no longer ignore the comments. It’s time that I step up and speak out for those not present. While I keep my circles as devoid of racism as possible, there have been times when it is acquaintances or married in family that has made these remarks, and no matter how small they have been, it’s time that it stops. If someone is comfortable enough to make small racist remarks around me, when they don’t know me so well, we can only imagine what they say in their close circles. A lot of people don’t like uncomfortable situations and that’s why some people don’t speak out when comments are made, but my discomfort is minor compared to the discomfort that the racist will feel. Both are minuscule compared to the discomfort felt by people of colour daily. So let’s make these racists uncomfortable. Let’s create unbearable situations for them. Let’s not allow them to feel the comfort of saying racist remarks, no matter how small, in our company.

Colour does matter

Colour matters when black parents need to teach their children how to act when pulled over by the cops. When white parents don’t. Colour matters when black people wonder if this is how they will die when being stopped by cops. While white people just worry about the fine they will receive. Colour matters when black girls are told their natural hair is too much for school. While white girls just can’t dye their hair different colours. Colour matters when there are offensive words towards black people, which are deeply rooted in colonialism, slavery, and apartheid times. While white people are offended by being stereotyped as a “Karen”. Colour matters when domestic workers are known as “maids” (again a word used in colonial times) and have been given or chosen a name which is more convenient for their white employer to pronounce. While white people are annoyed if someone doesn’t spell their name right. Colour matters when these humans who work extremely hard for white people have to be familiar with a name which is not their own, because white people don’t have the patience or the empathy to learn how to pronounce their names. This is a practice which is deeply rooted in slavery and apartheid. Maya Angelou describes this in her autobiography titled, I know why the caged bird sings (1969) where she details a white woman telling her employer that her real name Marguerite was too long, so she should be called Mary. Maya Angelou disagreed with this and had herself fired. She later changed her name on her own accord to Maya. Have you ever known a white person who is known by a name which is not their own and one which was not given as an affectionate nickname, but rather a name of convenience?

To my white friends.

I will continue to keep learning, to keep understanding, to listen more, to ask more, to do better, to try harder. I call on all my white friends, family, and acquaintances to do the same. I will no longer associate with blanket racism, I will no longer let the heavily veiled racist remarks pass by. The end to racism starts in many places, and for white people, it can start as small as changing yourself. Understanding that you are not exempt from being a racist, you may unknowingly be racist at times, or make hurtful comments to other races. It is not enough for you to say that you didn’t know, that you believed it was not racism, that your intentions were pure. That does not matter. When a person of colour tells you that your words or your actions were hurtful and racist, you listen! You hear what they have to say, you apologise for not knowing and for being naïve, and you do better!

I don’t know, so let’s talk

Again in my privilege, I must admit that I don’t fully know and understand. I have seen the call for us to educate ourselves, and I am extending that call. We must teach ourselves about the history of racism. We must understand the years and years of pain. We must understand the false narrative which was taught to white people which instigated their racist prejudices. We must admit that we know better than the short history we were taught in school. We must admit that we have unlimited knowledge at our fingertips. We must take the responsibility to learn and to understand. While I have already learnt so much from movies, series, books, academic papers. I can still learn more and the feelings and experiences of black people are important and need to be heard, so I must listen more. It’s here that I say to my black readers, I am open to learning, I am open to listening, so if I am wrong, if I do wrong, please teach me.

I extend my support, my love, my sympathy, and my white privilege to help in the ways which I can help. I stand with you, even though I can never walk in your shoes, I will walk with you.