Check Your Racism

I have a fear that as I get older I will become racist without realising it.

I hear so many people my age huff and say, “You can’t say anything anymore!” Somehow, I suspect that is the start of becoming unintentionally racist.

In the words of the Avenue Q song, ‘Everyone’s a little bit racist, it’s true.’ As humans we are good at fear. We notice people that aren’t like us. Historically, this otherness has been manipulated by people with power to keep their grip on things. Irish jokes in the Seventies were specifically designed to allow us to see the Irish workers that came here to do the building work we didn’t want to do (or couldn’t do cheap enough to make the powerful richer and even more powerful). We bought into the idea that the Irish were stupid. It helped us make them other. It helped us feel superior. It stopped us noticing that the powerful were getting richer while we were getting poorer. Something similar happened with the Polish workers but then the powerful took it a bit far and we got scared.
“It’s not fair,” we cried. “They can’t come here and have our jobs and our women!” And Brexit happened. This ‘otherness’ can take many forms. Obviously, depending on who you are. My daughter once had a landlord from an Asian background who insisted her flat mate, whose skin was a very dark brown, pay her rent in cash because ‘her people couldn’t be trusted.’

People like me have rarely been disadvantaged by someone noticing my ‘otherness’. There have been Essex girl jokes and Blond jokes but I don’t think they were used to oppress light haired women from East of London.

I’m of the opinion that you can make any joke you like, providing you are happy to deal with the consequences. A joke is probably going to offend someone. If you laugh at someone then they have a right to feel offended. They have a right to tell you that they are offended and you have a choice whether you are happy to continue to offend them. It is possible to repeat a joke that you didn’t realise was offensive because you aren’t in the other group. Then, when it is pointed out, you have a choice to continue making that joke or to stop. You can’t tell them that because you didn’t realised they would be offended that they should not be. It’s not for you to say how they feel.

White Christians in England seem to be running scared at the moment. They fear losing their dominance.

Some of the hymns we have been singing this term have made the children question whether they are actually racist. The BBC Come and Praise Book is full of classics that have stood the test of time. If you go on any social media someone is always reminiscing about the hymns they sang in the ‘good old days.’
“Kids today. No one sings All Things Bright And Beautiful anymore. No wonder the world is as it is,” Bert57 writes.
“You are so right,” replies Carole1970, “It was having oil in my lamp that kept me burning.”
Nostalgia is attractive and it’s very easy to believe that children aren’t having very similar childhoods. When the children I teach now are in their fifties they too will be cleaning the toilet, humming Kum Bah Yah and thinking about the good old days.
Anyway, I digress.

Back to racism.

Hymns like Family of Man , When I Needed a Neighbour and The Ink is Black point out the divisions. They say that the creed, the colour and the name don’t matter. However, some children were laughing during the Black and White hymn because it says, “The child is black, The child is white.”  Just using the word black to describe a person feels racist to them, even though the words are about tolerance and inclusivity. I did remove the line ‘coolie from Peeking’ from Family of Man because I felt the same thing. Language changes over time and I worry that I’m not keeping up.

It would be too easy to become racist but think I wasn’t, just because I hadn’t kept up with the change in language usage.

The Long Suffering Husband and I listened, slack-jawed to an old couple in a coffee shop, congratulating themselves and both agreed that they were, in fact, as racist as they come.

“You and I are unusual for our generation, my dear.”
“Yes. You know I’ve never thought to call someone a deago or whatnot.”
“Wog. Wog is another one.”
“Yes and and that other word. You know it’s interesting that that word was only used in England. It was invented by a Boy Scout in Tasmania.”
“You see I’ve known several Carribeans.”
“Yes, there were loads in our street.”
“I prefer to judge people by who they are, rather than what they look like.”
“There’s Clive.”
“Oh yes, Clive. Clive is the most disgusting human being on earth.”
“Mmm. He is my dear.”
“It’s not because he’s black. He’s just the worst person.”
“Yes. We are unusual for our generation. People our age are racist.”

Please tell me.

If I ever think I’m not racist, when I clearly am. Please tell me.