I’ve been thinking about what it is to oppose inequality and prejudice.
It’s easy to state one’s commitment to equality, justice, and anti-racism; as easy as stating anything. One can easily take to Facebook or Twitter or Tumblr and proclaim their allegiance to social justice, and receive affirmation from a legion of like-minded anti-racists, feminists, and warriors for the cause. This online culture of justice provides an anonymous (and sometimes quite rabid) dialogue that anyone, of any background and any privilege can join. This certainly makes it more accessible to “care about the issues”. But where the rubber meets the road is being in contact with someone else; someone else with whom a general agreement on the subject of, say, racism, is not enough.
The challenge manifests itself for me at different times. Recently, someone recounted the tale of meeting an Aboriginal community organizer who would “not shake a white person’s hand.” It is a small matter in the grand scheme of things; one handshake in the vast spectrum of making the world a better place, and it didn’t even happen to me. Nonetheless, it feels like a “tough nut” that it is my intellectual obligation to crack. It’s been on my mind a lot as a kind of watermark for myself, and just how well I’m getting on with this adaptation.
I confess the story at first gave me a knee-jerk reaction of feeling offended, and even deeply unnerved. It feels, at first, like there’s nothing more to this sentiment than just blatant racism; a ghastly, almost cartoonish racism, in which one party refuses to physically touch another of a different ethnic background.
Obviously, there was far more to the situation; I’m told the shake-refuser was very polite and friendly and in all other ways entirely gregarious with the shake-refusee. The stipulation came from the uncomfortable history of Aboriginal-Settler handshakes, and the terrible legacy they leave behind. Gradually, I’ve gotten more and more accustomed to it. I can understand why the shake-refuser would present this seemingly inflammatory behaviour to another person.
Do I think that it is unreasonable or racist to reject the shake-refuser’s point of view? No. But it belongs in the discussion nonetheless.
And let’s put the cards on the table. I certainly consider myself “anti-racist”.
But I’m also racist.
I’m racist because, sooner or later, either due to ignorance or a momentary lapse of reason, going to say, or do, something that is racist. I’m going to omit something important. I’m going to forget someone vital. I’m going to speak when I should listen. I’m going to manifest my privilege, accidentally and otherwise, in a myriad of different ways for as long as I am on this earth. I may not even notice my racism, and if I do, I will feel remorse for it.
I am okay with this idea, because making (minor, relatively well intentioned) racist mistakes is the way I’ve made progress. Understanding that racism is both inexcusable and inevitable has been a formative centerpiece in my intellectual life.
With regard to the shake-refusal, there’s a teachable for me – I don’t know about you.
The important part is not whether or not the guy was rude, or out of line. Rather, the important part is simple, and overshadows any other consideration; if you want to know something about the effects of racism, you just have to examine how strongly someone feels about it. Strong enough, in this case, not to want to “shake hands with the Devil.”
Two-Eyed Seeing for Health 