I am struggling to make sense of everything that is going on
right now. I have opinions. I have discussions with friends and colleagues and
sometimes even with strangers. I generally stay away from political, social or
any hard debate on social media because it’s a scary rabbit hole. This does not
mean that I am not horrified at some of the content I see, that I don’t
question things that my Facebook friends post or comment on, that I don’t
wonder how people I love and admire can think so differently to me; assuming
that how I think is the right way. But I stay silent. The resounding message I
am hearing now is that if you are silent, you are complicit.
For the first time in my life I am keenly aware of the
colour of my skin. And I know that saying this is a ridiculous example of my privilege
and my white fragility. Yet I don’t know what to do because I am overwhelmed.
What should I say? What must I do? What can I not? I loved Dr. Seuss as a child,
I still do. But I need to throw that out because it’s perceived as racist. I
have been asked to count the number of black friends in my life and expected to
answer with an appropriate number or explain why it is not so.
I was horrified when Doug Ford, a member the Conservative Party,
was elected Premier. I voiced my support and indignation when he collapsed the
Council and withdrew funding from services like those used to support autism. I
waxed lyrical about his revenge on Toronto for how Rob was treated (who I
really liked, by the way). Yet, in my opinion, he has stepped up. He has
managed Ontario through this pandemic with confidence and assurance and has not
been afraid to single out businesses that take advantage. I don’t support
everything he says or does any more than I do of Trudeau, and I don’t say that
everything is fixed, but he stepped up.
I cannot say a single good word about Trump. He has never
stepped up. America is burning and Trump was the magnesium that sparked the
flame.
I am racist. I am the epitome of white privilege. I feel
like I do not have the right to give my opinion because I have never walked a
single step in the shoes of an abused woman or a murdered black man. But if I
don’t speak up then I am as bad as those that oppress.
I grew up in apartheid and lived through post-apartheid
South Africa. I grew up, looked after by people that cleaned my house and
ironed my clothes who for a long time had a curfew. But I also had a European
father that insisted they ate at the dinner table with us. I was slightly
different but not really and the first black friend I had was at University.
I am a Jew that grew up in a town significantly dominated by
a radical Neo-Nazi-type group called the Afrikaanerweerstandsbewegin (AWB) and once
had a swastika painted on my school bag. I am gay and once got bashed while
cruising a park at 2 am. I’ve lost more friends to crime and suicide than I care
to count. I lived oppression. Yet, I can’t say that I ever felt bullied, I didn’t
feel profiled, I was never made to feel “less than” and I wanted for nothing.
I can assure you that Racism is taught because I lived it. I
can also assure you we can do better. We can deconstruct those images and thoughts
in our mind, but we must listen and then we must act. A huge part of my ability
to deconstruct my racism is because of Canada, I am better for living in this
country and for the people that educate me every single day.
Tell me. How can I step up?
No comments:
Post a Comment