In a recent
creative writing class, we were asked to describe the days of week as people –
the clothes they wore, their hobbies and the temperament that they displayed.
Reading over my descriptions it occurred to me that much of what I had written
was stereotypical. My Monday was a business man and he wore a bowler hat. My
Friday was an unemployed youth, trousers half mast, spray painting walls. My
Wednesday housewife was decked in leggings and baggy jumper and had “let
herself go.” All stereotypes. As I writer I felt ashamed. I should be able to
come up with something more creative.
I remember one
Christmas season way back when I had a holiday job in Boots Pharmacy. I was on
checkout, beeping my way through the day. For the most part the customers were
polite. If things were moving slowly, they took it in their stride. There was
one woman packing her carrier. Money had changed hands. Handing back the change,
another lady in the queue piped up, “You’d better check your change. These
checkout girls – they can’t count, you know?”She had fallen into the pit of stereotyping people. She couldn't know just by looking at me that I had a degree and seven years teaching experience. After a year of gospel outreach, I was waitng for another door to open.
At the Bike Shed cafe last night Lynda Stirratt was sharing her experiences as a black
woman living in Inverness. Being a single black
face in a white community in the early days of moving here was a real
challenge. She talked about the racial slurs she endured, of children on a bus
scraping the back of her hand with a fingernail wondering if the “blackness” came
off and of feeling unsafe walking along a street. I have always known her as a
confident and lively woman, so it came as a surprise to me. I thought that if
some people were unpleasant to others of a different nationality, it didn’t include
her because she was a generous and loving person.
She had us filling out a sheet that identified the ten
most important people in our lives, their gender, and their religion. The sheet
went on to ask about nationality, about their education and their sexual
preferences. It was a tool to simply say that like gravitates to like. We are
attracted to people who are like us.
But how do we treat the people who are not like us? We
watched a short clip. It featured a man in a park stealing a bike. He didn’t
try to hide the fact that the bike wasn’t his and he was using a chain saw
because he didn’t have the key. He was challenged by some, ignored by many and
one person phoned the police. The actor was replaced by a woman. Blonde hair.
Pretty. She made it clear she was stealing the bike and men did the hard work
for her with the chain saw. She rode off into the sunset. No one challenged her
– they helped!
When the actor was replaced with a young black lad – the
bystanders didn’t ask what he was doing. They presumed he was stealing the
bike. There was no walking by and looking the other way. They gathered around
the bike, around the boy and a mob was born. They didn’t listen to what he had
to say, they took out mobile phones, took pictures and phoned the police. The
atmosphere was aggressive.
How do we treat people who are not like us? It depends on
whether we are in the majority or in the minority. Living in a multi-ethnic
city like Leeds is different from living in the Highlands of Scotland. Inverness
is more diverse than it used to be, but in Leeds there is a whole community to
fall back on. You can be part of a majority in some areas of come cities. Here is Inverness
that doesn’t happen. It was important for Lynda to make sure her sons visited
family in Leeds, to feel what it meant to be a member of a black community.
Much of what we say or do is acting on a subconscious
level. What we say and how we are heard can be very different. We don’t have
the history that the black community has, or their mind set. We might say that we don’t notice
colour. We are all human beings. We are all the same. But we are not all the
same at all. Not to acknowledge colour is to not acknowledge the differences
that are there and to be able to respect people regardless.
The young twenty-something Lynda was when she first moved
to Inverness is very different from the woman she is now some thirty years
later. The strength and confidence that is seen on the outside does not cover
up insecurities on the inside. She is proud of who she is and what she has
achieved. She walks tall.
The battle has not ended, by any means. Lynda called on
us all to take a stand. Silence is taken as approval. If there is injustice and
it’s not being challenged, not only does it continue to happen but if it is unchallenged,
it’s like saying it’s normal when it is anything but. And it is not just about
the other person and what they have said or done that treats someone as “less
than”. We need to take a close look at our words and actions. What have we
assumed about a person from what they look like or where they live?
Good societies, like good people, are not born that way.
They are made.
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