Monday 21 October 2019

Subtle Racism


A few weeks ago this pretentious small Asian girl posted a video titled 'subtle racism' on her Instagram story.  Of course I watched: racially diverse person after person, providing anecdotes about their experience in this predominantly caucasian country, looking for something, anything, a statement, that would jump out at me with a world-changing relatability -- but it was nothing I hadn't heard before.  Next slide.  "Don't ask me where I'm from," she begins.  Black background, white words.  Next slide. The paragraph continues.

Don't get me wrong, in no way am I trying to illegitimise people's racial experience.  However, all these little stories, honestly, they don't bother me that much.  I find that today's generation is generally accepting of other races.  Gone is my parents' time, when hearing "Go back to where you came from" was not uncommon on the streets.  Neither myself nor the people I have grown up around have ever questioned whether I belong in this country or not.  Of course I do.  I can tell that small, unpolitically correct statements regarding my ethnicity have nothing to do with ignorant or malicious intentions.

When I talk about subtle racism, I'm talking about the experience of this generation.  I'm talking about the way stereotypes have manifested to become another sucky nuance of our ingrained views, resting alongside the likes of gender roles and beauty standards.  Nobody talks honestly and openly about the current experience because they're not the words we've heard and seen over and over again before.  Firstly, a description of racism today requires critical thought and subsequent social commentary; and secondly, I think the book I'm reading, 'Americanah' has an important point: the general caucasian, or otherwise, population here doesn't want to hear the honest experience.  They want us to preach to the converted what they already know.  My honest thoughts could come across as entitled or unreasonably angry.

I wrote all this in my diary a few days ago.  For the last few days I've been writing about spiralling emotions, being stuck in my own head, feeling bitter without knowing why.  And suddenly, after having a chat to her about it, I've come to the conclusion that all my emotions have boiled down to SUBTLE RACISM... Do you know what subtle racism is?

My friends are gorgeous, in the most classic hot girl way imaginable.  They have the super power of being skinny, blonde and tan.  Over dinner drinking games, without speaking a word, they can be voted 'person I would most like to get to know better'.  Step into an elevator, without speaking a word, and the small metal box of people will immediately make an effort to impress them.  Arrive at a party, without speaking a word, and they will be offered invites and opportunities based on the stereotype that as a skinny, blonde and tan girl, surely they must be fun.

I am a small Asian girl.  Over dinner drinking games, if I don't speak a word, I will be quiet and unnoticed.  Step into an elevator, if I don't speak a word, I will either be ignored or given one-word careless small talk.  Arrive at a party, if I don't speak a word, I will again, be quiet and unnoticed.  Subtle racism is the fact that I must work five times harder at having a super interesting personality in order to be considered somebody worthy of getting to know. I used to tell myself to effortlessly let people approach me, but the reality of the situation is that my societal stereotype start line is miles behind, and I need to run to catch up. In case you couldn't tell, I'm bitter.

I have this close friend.  She's small.  She's ethnically ambiguous.  She has dark hair.  We're very different people.  I've been called her name by two different caucasian boys on two different occasions, both of whom I am on a friendly basis with.  Both occurrences were honest mistakes.  Both occurrences were not a big deal.  Both occurrences made me feel like absolute shit.  They made me feel like I am not an individual who matters.  No matter what I say, what defining individual characteristics I put forwards, perhaps my being is being added to some conglomerate of small, dark haired, Asian girls, going right over Caucasian boys' heads.  Is this how society sees me? In case you couldn't tell, I'm bitter.

Perhaps these thoughts, or discoveries, have come from the recent close friendships I have developed with a different crowd of people.  In Sydney there are certain Asian-dominated communities: particular suburbs, particular schools, particular university degrees - to the point where some of my Asian friends have spent their entire lives in this country as part of a majority.  What an interesting social experiment.

As I spend more time around these groups of people, my perceptions of the norm are slowly shifting to somewhere in between; or perhaps somewhere neither.  My beauty standards are different now.  The characteristics that impress me are different now.  While I appreciate that my skinny, blonde and tan friends are pretty in their own way, perhaps it is narcissism that I consider some of my small, dark-haired, Asian friends to be gorgeous.  But again, that's just physical appearances, and it sucks how evident pretty privilege is in this society, but that's another topic altogether.

Upon spending more time around my own minority, particularly the boys, I have the thought, oh. So this is what it's like to be noticed as a regular girl, without all those connotations attached.  This is what my skinny, blonde and tan friends feel when a cute boy eyes them from across the room.  We've all seen Asian girls screenshot their tinder messages, but now imagine these situations in person - less vulgar, more nuanced, and still making you feel like a fetish rather than somebody beautiful in their own right. Try hearing the statements "I would never date an Asian." from your reasonably attractive guy friend, or "I think you'd have to be a weird person to like someone like that" from your other reasonably attractive guy friend, referring to a photo of an LG or an ABG.
I like the way I look, and this saddens me.

I then finished my diary entry with but perhaps I'm just hanging out in the wrong environment.

Society is whack, and in case you couldn't tell, I'm bitter.

Love,
M


2 comments:

  1. I love all the uses of 'I'm bitter'.
    Bitterness seems to be my only emotion lately.

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  2. I always get so emotionally invested in your writing M! I feel for you here, I am with you.

    ReplyDelete