Is it racist if someone says your accent is delightful? Identifying people different from us and demonising them is how we got into this mess
Around me, I see a thousand ways in which otherness is noted and scorched rather than oneness celebrated. Representation Pic/Getty Images
It was an online poetry forum. 3D avatars of real-life poets sat in a virtual garden on virtual chairs and read out poetry in their real voices. There were about seven, including the host, Sabretooth, and his partner, Janice. Others were Gianno, Wallflower, Merrimac and Wordsmith. I was nervous as I read out my poems but all went well.
ADVERTISEMENT
A text message from Janice reached me. “What a delightful accent! Where are you from?”
It’s not the first time I’ve been asked this question and I don’t take offence any more. When I hear a playback of myself, I know I’m a little more sing-song than a Londoner or an American.
I answered Janice’s private question in public. “Janice, about my delightful accent, I currently live in Thailand but —”
“That explains it!” she interrupted. Clearly, Thailand or any country in that region was exotic enough for her. I had confirmed that I was from a non-English speaking place, hence my accent, but wrote interesting poetry nonetheless. Delightful.
I let the rest of my sentence die. I could have pointed out that Gianno had a northern highland accent, Sabretooth had cockney moments, Wallflower seemed straight out of old New England and Janice herself had a posh lilt. But only mine stood out to her — as different.
My question: was Janice being racist?
A Canadian friend told me kindly that I was being a bit too woke and oversensitive to Janice’s harmless, even affectionate, remark. She’d probably meant no harm by it. I’d agree — Janice, had sounded genuinely warm and likeable. Neither the Canadian nor Janice would have described themselves as racist.
And this was when I began really reflecting on racism.
You could forgive me for thinking that for a word that’s used so freely these days, people would have a pretty clear idea what racism means. But a quick poll will reveal that racism is whatever you want it to mean. Take the following ‘racist’ statements, any of which could lead to a bar-room brawl —
Blacks take drugs and commit crimes.
Muslims are dangerous.
Catholic girls love sex.
White people are smarter.
Indians are arrogant rapists.
Jews are ruthlessly shrewd.
Hutus are better than Tutsis.
Chinese hate Indians.
There’s a problem with all those statements — none of them refers to a race. Black is a skin colour; Catholicism and Islam are religions; Indian and Chinese are nationalities; and Hutus and Tutsis are tribes of Rwanda.
It turns out race means nearly nothing, which should disturb you considering how many millions have been killed for it. All human beings together make up just one species. Your DNA is 99.9% similar to any other human being on the planet. The scientist Michael Yudell said, “Genetic methods do not support the classification of humans into discrete races.”
What about skin colour then? Aren’t white and black people races?
We were all black once, because hot Africa is where it all started. The first humans to reach Europe 40,000 years ago were black. Even 8,500 years ago, dark skin seems to have been the norm there. Then, from bodies found at a 7,700-year-old dig at Motala, Sweden, they found two genes that lighten the skin, SLC24A5 and SLC45A2. They also found the HERC2/OCA2 gene, believed to bestow blue eyes and lighter hair.
These gene mutations helped the skin continue producing vitamin D even in low sunlight.
Whites became white, it seems, because that’s how they could survive in cold climes. How disappointing.
So why was I so upset by Janice’s question and even more by my Canadian friend’s dismissal of the episode? At that moment, I felt that in some subtle, innocuous way I had been tagged as not quite like the rest of that group. I was different, I was the ‘Other’. Competence in English or poetry was a pleasant surprise, not expected. Oh, of course they still loved me because we’re all for diversity and I did receive a genuine patter of applause. Nothing to see here.
Identifying otherness, alas, seems to be an instinctive and automatic human habit. We flock towards those who feel similar — and demonise those who differ sometimes even in small ways.
Declaring Jews as ‘Others’ and giving them identifying armbands was Hitler’s very first step towards the Final Solution. Around me, I see a thousand ways in which otherness is noted and scorched rather than oneness celebrated. The word racism catches that moment with its pants down, with all its brutal, unspoken implications.
You’re not racist? Let me puncture your balloon.
Let’s say you are an eligible person asked to choose from five stunning candidates, identical in brains, looks, biology and raw sex appeal. There’s a white American, a Bihari, a black Nigerian, a Pakistani and a Thai. They all want to marry you.
Choose one of the five. Then ask yourself why you rejected the other four.
Here, viewed from there. C Y Gopinath, in Bangkok, throws unique light and shadows on Mumbai, the city that raised him. You can reach him at cygopi@gmail.com. Send your feedback to mailbag@mid-day.com
The views expressed in this column are the individual’s and don’t represent those of the paper.
Subscribe today by clicking the link and stay updated with the latest news!" Click here!
