I have the privilege and responsibility to end racism. The layers of responsibility are not always obvious, but I know that it has to go deeper and be better than an “If you see something, say something mentality”. Racism is alive in Canada and we have the power to end it.
I’m a white Canadian woman raised to love, honour, and respect others. I passed these similar values to my sons. I value our Canadian culture rich in a multitude of races, practices, and beliefs. I have simple confidence to speak up when I see injustice. Yet, One day, two years ago, enlightenment came: speaking out against obvious injustice is unequivocally not enough.
Toronto’s Pearson International Airport can get crowded, busy, and noisy enough to frustrate its occupants. It felt especially confusing and frustrating, to me, that day as my husband and I tried to check our luggage in, before a flight overseas.
There were haphazard lines and people standing everywhere. After getting through the check-in lines, we then had to drop our luggage off, the last step before navigating our way through security. When we went to the luggage drop-off area, they weren’t letting people in at the normal drop-off spot. Instead, they directed all of us quite a way further down the building to the beginning of a roped-off area for the line. I couldn’t see anyone in the line, so it annoyed me they had it blocked off, and made us walk what felt like a football field just to return to the same point that the worker wasn’t letting us in at.
We navigated through the ropes, with some people ahead and behind us. When we were about 10 yards from the spot we had just been directed away from I watched a family open the clip that held the rope in place and walk through into the spot ahead of us.
I was hot, tired, and frustrated that I just watched people skip the line that I had just walked all the way through. I sighed and made some noise of frustration, caught the eye of a woman in the group behind me, and had some unspoken look of mutual annoyance. I resolved that it was what it was so then I faced forward to collect myself.
After the line settled and people tightened up the woman behind me started talking to me, pretty loudly, about her annoyance. I agreed, calmly that it was frustrating, but at that point, I just wanted us all in line to chill and wait quietly.
That’s when the woman behind me began a rant with those three racist words –
“Here in Canada…”
as in
“Here in Canada, we don’t cut in line,”
“Here in Canada, we wait our turn,”
“Here in Canada, we…. (insert superior rant here)”.
Her tone and words were laced with racism, superiority, and privilege.
The family that cut in line was East Indian and she was showing her disdain for them. I was shocked she said it and wasn’t the only one, as I heard audible gasps of shock from people around.
I spoke out angrily; her actions were wrong, and I let her know that she shouldn’t say that. I specifically said, “You can’t say that. It’s racist”. She argued with me it wasn’t racist – I argued back that it was. I remember being so mad at her meanness and her ignorance in assuming she was right to speak out that way. I told her what she could and couldn’t say, but to my fault, I didn’t take the time to explain why or how her words were wrong. I shot her down and said that Canada is a melting pot and that’s what makes our culture so rich. But, I did nothing to change her mind, choosing to chastise her instead.
This scene has played out in my mind many times over these last couple of years and through the replay, I realized that I didn’t do enough against racism that day, nor the days before.
The layers and effects of racism go deeper: After a bit of time, I had calmed down enough that I could speak conversationally to those around me. The man that had cut in line was directly in front of me and he chatted with me as his wife spoke to the woman in front of her. This part of the conversation would also replay in my mind with a soundtrack of sadness. In replaying it I got insights that I didn’t quite observe that day. This family showed significant experience in calming those around them, they divided themselves to talk with others as they soothed frustrated people with skill.
The man, whom I enjoyed speaking with, discussed travel destinations and flight schedules with me. Small and pleasant conversation. We tried to act as if nothing horrible had happened. Attempting to shake it off with small talk. Yet laced in the conversation he also mentioned that he was an Engineer that helped bring Telcom lines to Ontario with Bell in the 60s.
I picked up that he was sharing with me his worthiness of my standing up for him and that he wasn’t what the woman depicted. I’m not sure if he was letting me know that he was born in Canada or had been here for over 40 years, or that he was a professional, hard-working person who added value. That woman was straightforward in her actions she thought of him as an unworthy immigrant that needed schooling in the Canadian way.
Regardless of status – born here, living here for 40+ years, or brand new to Canada, I truly felt that he, as a person, had just as much right to be there in that line as we did, without a need to justify it. My heart broke at the fact that he felt the need to justify his worthiness to me. It made me realize that I hadn’t done enough to let him know that I felt he is valuable, as he was, where he is. He owed me nothing yet he was offering his experience. I let him down by not ensuring that he knew that I already felt his worth and didn’t require proof.
Through that day, and all the replays in my mind here’s what I learned.
Yes, I confidently speak up, and assertively shoot down racial comments and actions that I observe – but I need to do more.
I judged the woman for her comment but did nothing proactive on that day to prevent it or to adjust her thinking after she said it. There must have been something in my mannerism, or built-in confidence between white women, that made her think it was ok to say a racial comment in my presence. It surprised the woman that I called her out, I could tell that she felt betrayed by me. I believe it’s wrong for someone should ever feel right to make a racist comment or action and it hurt my ego that they could dare to think I would allow it. Almost like there should be a no-meanness force-field around me. That it affected my ego is also my issue to deal with; How could I blindly assume that I can have this magic bubble of niceness around me? I’ll save that discussion for another day though.
In sitting with the events I have determined that I need to use my words more, I need to speak up with exact language that clarifies how I feel when I am frustrated. I was cranky before that family cut into the line, and my noise of frustration and knowing glance at a person behind me showed that they frustrated me. I was comfortable in my misery with her. However, because I didn’t use my words, my knowing glance validated her thoughts. While it merely annoyed me that people cut the line, she took issue with the race of people that cut the line. My unspoken works sparked her confidence.
This is how quickly someone can slip into shades of complicity. My presence helped fuel her racism. Because I didn’t tell her what specifically annoyed me I unknowingly validated her hatred. She felt that my look of frustration was in agreement with her unspoken thought. Other than frustration our thoughts weren’t remotely close. It was like we were sitting on two opposite ends of a frustration see-saw; I sat on the how dare people cut the line side and she sat on the racism side. Yet, unspoken frustration lets the grey area in, and that blur can look like you’re both sitting in agreement on the same side.
Besides speaking out when I see or hear racism, I need to monitor my own actions to make sure they don’t lead to someone else feeling validated being racist or feeling superior. I need to speak up; I need to speak out and share my thoughts. I need to take action to eliminate injustice. Peaceful and caring qualities are not enough. Hoping that the rest of the world is caring too, is not enough. It comes down to sharing the care, modeling it for others, and helping them develop their own soft skills. It’s about growing together to appreciate, value, and celebrate what makes us similar and different.
Doing more is also about helping to heal. Yes, I shut down her rant, but there was way more possibility in the conversations that day. I could have helped to heal. The man and I never discussed the fact that it even happened. I felt but didn’t say, that I was sorry that he had to face racism that day. I never mentioned that he seems skilled at dealing with the effects of racism. I never stated how unfair it was that he had to be. I have always lived by the belief “If it’s kind and true then I need to say it.” But now I’ve added to my belief; “If it’s kind, true, and especially if helps with healing after pain then I need to say it”.
Layers upon layers: The other thing that happened during the conversation that I had with the man was I overheard his wife tell the person ahead of her that the staff person told them to lift the rope and go in at that spot. Yup, so the very thing that I had silently wanted the staff to let me do, led me to judge the family as line cutters. They didn’t even own fault for jumping the line.
I was cranky, and judgemental that day and should have shown up better. I jumped to conclusions and never asked myself if there was another way to look at it. That staff told them to do it, never crossed my judging mind.
That family went through the same busy airport frustration that we all did, followed staff instructions, and ended up having a frustrated group of people complaining about them, then had a woman’s racist comments to deal with. They then turned around and helped the rest of the people feel comfortable with their existence in the line-up.
They showed us how to rise and take the high road, at all times, even under duress. Especially when people were unfair to them. What if they just wanted to have a crappy day too and sit in their cranky misery of the day? My white privilege allows me to have a moody day in public. The woman’s white privilege allowed her comfort to express racism. This family had no moody day, instead, they gifted everyone grace. They were a blessing that day.
Repeatedly this day goes through my mind, I wish I could go back to the man to apologize for not doing or being enough for his family that day. They deserved better. They were better. That he treated me so thankfully for speaking up tells me he’s faced this and more, many times. I could have done more for the prevention of racism, not just by being a vocal opposer when I see it.
White privilege exists and with it comes white responsibility. We are responsible to prevent it, weed it out, and create a culture, that supports minorities. To check in and be present for others that don’t have that same luxury we unfairly gained because of skin tone.
As a pacifist, I thought I was doing enough, but there is more I could have done that day. Not being racist is not enough. I repeat; not being a racist yourself is not enough. An active effort to eliminate racial injustice is the new bare minimum. Regarding racism; if I am not part of the solution, I am a part of the problem.
Racism is sneaky. This was an obvious event easy to call out. Yet, often racism happens where no one is there to witness it. Sometimes it appears so slight that you’re not sure what you’re observing. But, trust me, racism is alive in Canada. A white person is not always going to see it happen. Often racist comments and actions only happen when people think they can get away with it, or if they feel they have a sympathetic audience. For every time a white person witnesses, I can’t even imagine how many times it happened without a witness. Just because a person didn’t see it, doesn’t mean they can assume it’s not happening.
White privilege exists and with it comes the white responsibility to create change. We need active action to eliminate all layers of racism. I commit to doing better; I commit to being more proactive, and less reactive. I am no longer blindly passive. My eyes, my heart, and my voice are open and activated. I will create change.
Cathy
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Feature Photo by Alexas Fotos from Pexels
