Blonde hair, blue eyes, white skin complete with a sprinkling of freckles--what could I possibly add to the conversation about race relations and racial profiling? For that reason, I have been very hesitant to write this blog, but the more I think about it, the more I feel that I need to confirm the obvious: racial profiling is a very real thing. A very real, terrible thing.
I know this because I myself have been guilty of it.
I am not going to devote this blog to statistics and my poorly-crafted interpretations of those statistics. Instead, let me tell you a story:
Three girls not yet eighteen amble through the historic streets of 'old Pari', completely enraptured by the ornate cathedrals glinting in the sun, enthralled by the old time-y vendors dotting the banks of the Seine, charmed by the old French man smiling as he sells his delicious masterpieces: nutella crepes.
Then, jolting them out of their 'I-love-Paris' reveries--a (peaceful) protest of some sort, consisting of twenty or so men of color. The trio quickly crosses to the other side of the street, eyes downcast and satchels clutched tightly to their sides. They exchange furtive glances, as they scurry away to the metro, despite the obvious lack of danger.
The protest is soon forgotten as the three marvel at the day's purchases: a painting of the Seine, kitsch-y figurines of the Eiffel Tower, a true 'parisian' baret. The dank metro car is crowded, mostly with work-weary Parisians, and the three giggle at one woman's complete lack of regard for personal space. Oh well, it must be a Paris thing, they thought; she's harmless, she basically looks just like us, right? Wrong.
Turns out the woman was a thief, and while the girls were completely unaware of their surroundings (lulled into a sense of security while surrounded people that 'look just like us'), the woman was in fact, cutting the straps to one of the girl's satchels, which the girl had carelessly flung over her shoulder, in spite of the crowded metro.
It is probably not hard to figure out that one of the girls in the story is me, but allow me to get to the bigger picture: I do not consider myself a racist; I do not think that any race is inferior to any other, and yet why am I guilty of racial profiling? I wasn't born thinking 'black is bad' or dangerous. So why?
As a firm believer of John Locke's 'blank slate' theory, I believe that throughout my socialization process, society has scribbled my 'slate' with racism. A racial slur here. One scribble. A racist comment there. Two scribbles. And so it went for 18 years until my slate was so messed up that little high-schooler me thought it was OK to make judgments about one group of people based on the color of their skin.
And so, in order to fix this 'very real, very terrible' thing, I think that the first step is that people (like myself) need to be made aware of this issue at hand. And not just made aware of the unnecessary police brutality against people of color (because honestly, we can condemn and condemn those officers all we want), but rather, people need to be aware of their own subconscious thoughts, and how society may have influenced those very thoughts.
Until this awareness of subconscious is universal, I do not think that a change can truly be made. One the surface, yes, but deep down, no. To bring about a change, society really needs to work on erasing those scribbles of racism that are ingrained on the subconscious of so many.
No comments:
Post a Comment