Tag Archives: Racism

racist-dove-ad

I’m to Blame for That Dove Ad

Honestly.

I am.

Why?

Because for far too long many females of colour have perpetuated the myth that anything but pale, white skin is ugly.

There’s no two ways about it.

It sounds harsh, we try and put our political correctness spin on it but the truth is, it’s girls of colour that promote our skin as being ugly, undesirable and almost “dirty”. Why else would we need a clean, white Dove brand to help us scrub away all that ugliness.

I’m going to get haters on this but it needs to be said.

When my country’s malls and department stores are literally littered with Caucasian models that we all aspire to look like (when none of us do no matter how many whiteness products we use) I think we need to get off our hypocritical arses and wake up and smell the roses.

It’s not Unilever’s Dove or any other whitewashed brand’s fault. It’s ours. Yours and mine.

Until we start saying I am beautiful, I am desirable and I want more representations of the way I look and feel in my malls and shop fronts, the Unilever’s of the world will keep doing what they are doing because it’s what we’re asking for.

This is not a hate post against Caucasian women – far from it. What this is a post about is a celebration of ALL of us – of all colours and sizes.

There’s a reason we’re told from day one that one size does not fit all because boy, would that be a boring world.

Here’s the ad if you haven’t seen it yet.

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The Casual Racist

Know a Casual Racist?

You know who and what I’m talking about.

I think we’ve all probably had the misfortune of coming across one or two (if you’re lucky).
That person who isn’t racist but thinks that adding a smile at the end of a thinly veiled racially motivated comment makes it alright to just chuck one at you anyway.

I have spent the past five weeks traveling across India through Shimla, Delhi and Mumbai, completing my superb trip at Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia. In one word – amazing (sing that while you read it for added emphasis).

I must admit to spending some of my time dispelling stereotypes about the land down-under vehemently because you know, ignorance is never an excuse for sweeping generalisations that can come across as rude because they are, people, they are. Simple as that. No, no matter what ever angle or perspective you look at it.

What I didn’t expect was Pauline Hanson’s vigorously and scarily increasing popularity. As a side bar, what exactly is happening to the world and it’s dangerously increasing xenophobia? It takes two to tango in life for everything and the Trumps, Hanson’s and every other right wing party leader in Europe is where they are because of all of us (those of us who vote for them and those of us who can’t be bothered getting off our arses to put a stop to potential future genocide for the gazillion-th time).

I also managed to meet every racist Aussie I strongly believe exists in my vicinity in the week I got back. I know this is highly unlikely but like everything negative, the numbers seem to exponentially build inconceivably, like something out of a J.K. Rowling novel.
Comments like, “ugh Dehli, way too many people in your country” (adding a smile at the end of that sentence still pisses me off by the way), “must have been sweaty and hot in your country” (that’s rich coming from someone who is currently battling 42 degree Celsius weather), “did you take any photos of elephants and tigers while you were there?” (the next time you take a photo of a kangaroo jumping over the Harbour Bridge in Sydney city, please-let-me-know).

I could go on but why?

Why should I waste my time trying to educate casual racists on not so common etiquette and courtesy? If they haven’t learnt yet, they never will.

Just note please …

Sticking a flag in countries that were never yours and never will be was never and will never be right.

Full stop.

Just like adding a smile to the end of a sentence you may think is manipulatively cloaked but glaringly obvious to the people you have been attempting to “civilise” for centuries is not and will never be acceptable.

This may be offensive to some and I get it.

Because this entire piece has been written with a clear and complete absence of a smile.

For the rest of you who have managed to find this writing somewhat palatable, I’ll be posting pics of my amazing journey soon hopefully. I trust your open-mindedness will allow you to see through the stereotypes and generalisations towards the glorious similarities we all share against the backdrop of exciting cultural nuances.

See you soon xoxo

14 reasons people should Google Indian before asking us these questions!

Let me just point out at the outset that some of these hilarious remarks are a little over the top for added effect … but not by much.

If I had a penny for every single time strangers slow down their sentences in case I don’t understand English, well let’s just say, I could quit my day job and write full time!

Apparently, the more tanned you are is in direct opposition to your ability to string coherent English sentences together 😀 😀 😀

My granduncle was constantly asked whether we still lived in trees back home to which he would aptly reply, “of course we do, we just get up there with escalators. Climbing trees is so yesterday”. Why anyone would actually believe that was a suitable question to ask a lawyer living in Europe for ten years is beyond me, but hey … each to their own I guess.

Where – are – YOU – from?

My dad passed this along to me over the weekend and now I have permanently bookmarked the page on my phone for every single time I’m asked the loaded question!

It’s only been used a couple of hundred times so far 😀

Check out the Help Me Find Parents YouTube channel for this wonderful video by Ken Tanaka & David Neptune 😀 😀 😀

We’re Different & Proud of it!

Apparently loads of immigrants the world over have been having a hard time explaining their differences or what we like to commonly refer to as our “uniqueness” and what originals term as our “whacky inability to fit in syndrome”.

I know, ours is so much catchier 😛

Either that, or the constant clicking on my video link is a subtle warning for impending death threats coming my way.

Phew, thank the good Lord for virtual reality sometimes, death threats are so much less permanent nowadays.

Dear Racist … I Love You, Man

Nope, you read the title right. I love racists.

Now, before you start slamming tomatoes at your computer screen, just hear me out. I really do love racists, they’ve played a massive part in my life and I’ve learnt a lot from the bigoted comments sometimes casually, sometimes not so carelessly, thrown my way.

I owe many life lessons to the racist encounters I’ve lived through, and no doubt will after this post is posted. I was a late bloomer when it comes to experiencing racism, I was eight years old (at least I wasn’t in the double digits, because that would have just been embarrassing!) and I could hardly blame the twelve year old bully who let her tirade loose on me.

I mean I was obviously unaware back in the day that school benches were reserved as “White Only” at lunch time and my massive confusion only seemed to incense her more. To top it all, my British accent (gained as a result of being schooled at the British Continental School in Jeddah), my Middle Eastern upbringing till that time, my Indian heritage, and my new found status as a fresh Australian citizen would have served to do anyone’s head in, least of all a prepubescent blonde, blue eyed poster child Aussie schoolgirl.

I went home, told my mum about my unusual encounter enthused with wondrous enthusiasm at only just realising skin colour differed, and oh my gosh, actually mattered on the planet, who promptly reprimanded me for relenting and told me if I did it again, I wouldn’t be let in the front door, or the side one for that matter.

Now this set me straight because clearly no racist bashing (emotionally or physically), could ever compare to an Indian mother’s scolding which unfairly always boils down to a hunger strike and if any of you have been reading up about me, you know that there could be no possible worst punishment than starvation for my poor undernourished body (I wish!)

So lo and behold, lunch time came around again the next day and as humans are such boring creatures of habit, my new found bane of my existence told me to vacate the seat (which was another bench by the way, as I had attempted for the past week to find one that suited my skin tone). I told her “No”, she said “What?”, so I repeated again, only slower, making a mental check to clarify that the national language of Australia was in fact English.

Turns out it was, because she simply shrugged her shoulders and never bothered me again.
I burrowed my brows in uncertainty thinking if all life’s battles were that easy, I was going to be cruising my roller coaster ride, and then proceeded to devour my half-finished sandwich.

Racism can also be very funny, like the time a Southern Italian yelled at me to go back to where I came from. In Australia? I asked him to repeat his sentence because I was absolutely certain I had heard him wrong which only frustrated him more to yell it out.

I was happy because I’d saved on my healthcare to go check my hearing and left him quietly at his disposal. Not because I was afraid or had nothing to say, because as I am sure you all know by now, I definitely have a motor mouth, but because I thought it was cruel to harm anyone with such a humungous case of an Identity crisis.

This finally brings me to why I love racists as much as I do – because I owe a part of my appreciation and love for everything that makes me to them. People often naively believe that racism will push the victim into being ashamed of their heritage, but often (not always unfortunately) the exact opposite happens!

Racist encounters make me feel more proud of who I am and just more pitiful about the close-mindedness of those who inflict hateful comments and activities on people who are happy, that’s right – happy and content in their lives.

No matter how much I exercise my cranium, I sincerely believe that anyone who has the time and energy to hate can’t possibly be happy, because they’re expending so much wasted effort on just that, hate.

So, to all the Racists out there, I’d like to give you some happiness and thank you from the bottom of my heart for making me stronger, happier, healthier and proud. I love you, man 🙂