Racism Is A Virus
And i’ve been infected.
Bound in chains, trapped in cages and hung. That’s the price black people have had to pay for being black. Centuries of brutality, oppression and discrimination. Over the course of time, the methods of the evil may have changed but their form remains. From chains to handcuffs. Cages to prison cells. Hung to being murdered by the police. The death of George Floyd has been a reminder that our world is still ever so cruel.
Racism is an epidemic. A virus. Like covid-19, it has the potential to spread like wildfire. And it has. Even though some may say that things are ‘getting better’, our hyper-technological world has only made the spread easier.
But the future is not grim. The ball, however, is in our court. We can not depend on others to fight the good fight for us. This change must happen one individual at a time. We must look within.
The following is my story of ‘infection.’
My own journey of self-reflection began a few weeks ago when I had seen an interview between Emmanuel Acho and Mathew McConaughey that had sparked a train a thought that has in turn led to the writing of this article. For me, one of the most powerful statements in that interview was Emmanuel’s when he said, and I’m paraphrasing here,
‘Why is it that when a black man dresses nice, he is respected yet when that same man wears a hoodie he is feared.’
Truthfully, this hit me hard. It made me familiar with the uncomfortable truth that racist notions had been, through one form or another, been ingrained in my subconscious; against my will. My mind became occupied with recalling all the times I was walking back to my London apartment in the early hours of the morning and I’d come across a group of young black men in hoodies and sweats. The reality is they were just hanging out with their friends. Yet, the racist thoughts ingrained in my subconscious told me to be afraid.
Something bad was going to happen.
I remember finding myself, in those moments as I walked nearer and nearer to them, occupied in a relentless battle between my conscious and my subconscious. I’d repeatedly remind myself of the reality of the situation; they are just hanging out with their friends, like any of us would. There is no reason to be afraid. The colour of their skin is not a symbol of impending danger.
The unwanted thoughts would come back with ‘but what if you’re wrong?’
Whether it be the news, tv shows or movies, they have all, at one point or another, portrayed the black man as a symbol of crime and violence. And they’ve done it time and time again. It’s no surprise that I was always faced with the question of ‘what if’. That’s all they’ve shown. The question is, when will it stop? Or, and rather more worryingly, will it stop at all? Sure, politicians can make all the promises they want but the truth is: where’s the change? America had a black president for 8 years. Did police brutality stop? Were black men no longer portrayed as criminals? Were black men no longer reported as suspects simply because of the colour of their skin? The list, unfortunately, goes on.
At this point you might be wondering how could we have hope in the coming generations to create a better world than we did if they’re also going to be fed with the same racist notions that we have been all our lives?
By starting a conversation — and by doing it now.
The agendas of systematic oppressors would be severely weakened if we were to divert our attention from their evils and focus on ourselves. If we talk about racism enough, our own racism, if we can have an open and honest dialogue, then we can inch towards the creation of a fairer society. In time, and with enough dialogue, we will slowly begin to paint a roadmap for the future. Merely focusing on the ongoings of mainstream media or waiting for them to simply switch narratives is not going to solve the problem.
It won’t change the way in which the mind of the racist works.
That can only happen through conversation. Besides, history has shown we cannot rely on cinema, the news or politicians to do it for us. This is a fight that we must win ourselves.
I’ve started my conversation and I now pass the baton onto you; because like charity, this too starts at home.