Racism

By Giri Sequoya

When the word racism is said or heard, many thoughts, feelings and memories come to my mind. Who are we? Why do we behave differently towards those who are not like us? I’d like to share my own personal experiences with you. I hope this helps in throwing some light.

I am a dark-skinned Australian. I have Indian (Asian) blood in me. Hence I am very different to those around me no matter how you look.

I grew up in a high caste Brahmin family, which drilled into me the superiority of my caste. This did not go down comfortably with me. I could see that my friends, neighbors and other people around me were indifferent to the basic things that we all share. I remember asking my grandmother, “Show me what is different and I will accept that they are inferior.” Of course she could not justify herself. This only caused a lot of anger in her and frustration in me.

I guess most of us grow up with truths that we learn as the truth. Very few of us question this truth. Hence concepts like racism are born.

I feel racism in a different way in all the three countries that I have lived in. In India, I was an outcast because I refused to conform to the caste system. In the United States, people look at me with suspicion. In the US, I have felt this among Friends and people who work with the Alternatives to Violence Project. It gets even worse as I am not of lesser intelligence. I can hold up my end of any intelligent discussion. I am well read, qualified with university degrees, well travelled. All this only works against me, as I am not of white color. Just having to stand up for myself constantly has managed to make me only wiser and more accommodating. Yet this has also put a lot of strain on my psyche, as I am always wary and alert. I just cannot relax. In Australia it is more bearable probably because it is a more multicultural country. Even though I experience it among some people, the Sorry Day that we celebrate in Australia goes a long way in healing hurts.

On the 26^th day of May, we create huge placards in various colors in the shape of hands and most of us walk down the streets waving them above our heads. We call it the sea of hands. It is a national holiday and it is a token to say we are sorry for what our ancestors might have done to divide us by caste, color, race or creed. It is a public statement to acknowledge that even though racism does exist around us, we are trying to heal it to become more tolerant and accommodating of each other.

I read a book called Fear is the Key when I was about fifteen. It gave me the insight that most of our societal evils including racism stem from our fear. Fear of those who are different, wiser, more qualified, different color, from another country, different religion, and the list goes on. What is important is more often than not we are afraid of those who we perceive to be better than us. This makes us feel inferior. Thus we try to put them down. If we could take the time to make friends with them we would more often than not find that it is not so bad after all.

I heard from a Friend that they have a mate [friend] who wears the words “I am your worst nightmare: I am educated and I am black.” This saddens me, as I would not want to be a nightmare to anyone, although I have experienced many a time when I have been perceived thus. Instead, I would wear a message that might read: “I am warm hearted, fun and another human being just like you and I just happen to have a more tanned skin than you. Lets talk!!”