Day 11 - A photo of something I hate

I can't show a picture of what I hate - it doesn't have a face, it's not something that's easy to illustrate.  But it is something that is insidious in our culture and there are times when I am deeply ashamed to hear people I know and respect (at least until that point) make highly inappropriate comments.

I am referring to racism.

This is Nicky Winmar.  He's pictured showing the colour of his skin after being racially vilified during an Aussie Rules game in 1993.  AFL has come a long way since those days.  There are strict rules against racism and racial vilification in the code.  There is a strong indigenous players program to develop indigenous people in our game.  There is zero tolerance to racism - be it black to white, white to black and all of the colours of the spectrum in between.

I hate racism.  It is cowardly.  It is misguided. And it is usually the result of gross ignorance by those applying it.  It results from general stereotyping of a person based on a perceived difference from others.  And it's wrong.

I first spoke out about racism in high school.  We were learning about apartheid in South Africa.  I was appalled.  I joined a public speaking forum and entered competitions to get my voice heard.  I began to research and realised the problem wasn't just abroad.  It was right on our doorstep. 

I studied indigenous studies at Uni.  I began to appreciate other cultures more.  I appreciated their differences.  I had heated debates with friends who were happy to be likened to Hitler in their belief in the great, white way.  Who believe white is right and anything else is an inferior choice.  (Needless to say, our friendships did not survive these debates).

And then I got lazy.  Friends would make comments that would normally lead me to put them firmly in their place and correct them on their words.  I would look away.  Or walk away.

Where was the passionate woman who would have spoken out?

She was overwhelmed.  The world is a harsh place.  Not only do we judge on cultural background, but also religion, sexual preference, age, gender - we find reasons to hate across the board.

And at the risk of upsetting a lot of people, let's face it, Australians are great at hate.  We love passionately and hate even more so.  A certain red-headed politician came on the scene and spouted her ideal on putting people in their right place, cutting welfare, cutting immigration, whitening Australia with her innuendo.  Australia lapped it up.  They voted for her.  I was so ashamed of my country that day.

But then my kids helped me see the way again.  I remember Jordan coming home from school and talking to me about a boy in her class.  I didn't know the boy she was talking about, and asked her to describe him.  She said he had brown hair and eyes.  I still couldn't pick him.  The next time we went to school she pointed him out.  He was indigenous.  I told her if she'd told me he had brown skin, I would have know who it was.  She looked at him, looked at me, looked at him again and said, "but I didn't even realise he was different."

That moment gave me heart.  Children don't see in colour.  When it comes to skin they are colour blind and it is what they learn from their nurturers that shapes the people they will become.

So while I may not be able to make wholesale change to the world, I know I can change the world one person at a time thanks to my very beautiful, colour-blind children.  My kids give me hope that the world can be a better place.  Cos in the words of one of my favorite performers - "It don't matter if you're black or white..."