Racism - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Racism hijacks the fear centre of the brain - it hardwires the image of the one you are taught to fear straight into the same part of the brain that ancient man needed to run from, or fight, a predator. Yet we are no longer cavemen and the use of hate over love is something ugly and cruel. It is counter to our creator's wishes; it is against our duty to love and show compassion. So resist the call of fear and hate. Use your higher mind and the emotions that bring a sense of love; for with evocation of such love comes bravery, nobility and the right kind of pride. It is then we can feel as one national family in all our ethnicities and faiths.
"We didn't fight Nazi ideology just to let it in the back door. Fail to fight racism and Churchill will be spinning in his grave. Patriotic is looking after everyone right, loving everyone, pulling together in our communities as Brits do. I'm tired of this BS; it's not just mentally lazy clap-trap, messed up excuses to hate and take cheap superiority and entitlement rides, it's the first tip toe into evil and we've all seen where that leads."
I will never have to teach Darwin about racism. These concepts are meaningless now, but it's not because we're more enlightened. To cut off a trading prospect because they don't share your ethnicity is just dumb. To give someone unearned trust because they have the same hue in their skin is frequently lethal. It takes time to see a person's true nature. Sure you can get a good sense of it on a first encounter, but some people are just class acts. Unless they do something for you at a cost to themselves they are not your ally. We have replaced the notion of friendship with these relationships of convenience. It's probably what most of my friends were anyway, but I miss the close few, the three who mattered, the ones who would have battled by my side had they lived.
Little May sat on her Grandmother's knee listening to an old Bajan tale. Sometimes the old lady would get a twinkle in her eye and she would alter the story to make the child giggle and ask for more. From the kitchen came the steady clanking of pots as her parents washed up from dinner and from the wireless came quiet jazz music. Each person was busy and content until there was a thump on the door so loud that it reverberated around the little house commanding their immediate attention. At first no-one moved. It wasn't a friendly noise. Then May's father put on his suit jacket and straightened his white shirt. Before he reached the door there came the thumping again and this time May ran to he Daddy's arms. He scooped her up and took her to her mother before opening the door. In the blackness outside was not a man or two or three or four, but more than a dozen. They were clad in white with white hoods covering their faces. In seconds a burning cross lit the night and they jeered "Go!"
Nadya stopped trimming the brambles. There was a movement in the grass behind her. When she turned there were no less than twenty people assembled. To get that close without her knowing sooner they must have marched without talking to one another. To a man and a woman their faces were grim. These fine warriors of middle England knew that this was Romany land, and if she tended it she was a gypsy. A man in a stiff suit and shoes not suitable for long grass stepped forward into her personal space, he meant to intimidate. "You're not welcome here, this is a quiet village, we don't want your sort." Nadya made no response. Back in her home town she lived in a nice brick house with her husband and three kids. She was likely more wealthy than any of them due to the businesses she had built with hard work and determination. She had friends from many races. But right now she was scared and angry. Then a woman stepped forwards and in simpering tones offered her ten pounds to clean her bathrooms.
As Leah made her way through the crowded market more eyes turned her way than ever did back in the city. She was attractive but no super model, her only distinguishing feature in rural Sussex was the colour of her skin. She was black. She was proud of being black. She was strong and intelligent, she loved her family and was good to her friends but these eyeballs around her couldn't see all that, they just saw her deep brown hues. In awkward fleeting moments someone staring would inadvertently catch her eye then hurriedly look away. Their faces were etched with distaste, like it was her fault they felt offended and fearful. She kept the smile on her face and began to wait at the fruit stall. There was no queue, the vendor just kept tabs on who got there first. After a while she noticed that people there after her were being served first. She had been raised well and gave the benefit of the doubt, but then it occurred to her how conspicuous she was, he just couldn't have missed her.
In the post-dawn glow the girls returned from the well carrying not water but an infant. A bitter divide in the village flashed like summer fire. It did not fall neatly along generational lines, but more young folk argued to adopt her than the elders. She was marked an enemy by her brown skin and poker straight hair. Every nighttime story told to them since infancy decried these people as savage, dull-witted and violent. Now she cuddled into her saviours unaware of the protection they gave or what they risked to give it. A mob gathered around demanding the child pay for the crimes of her nation, she would be a poison to their purity, a spy and a traitor. They believed her a plant to soften their attitudes to their enemy and pave the way for the invasion of their culture. Some of the teens moves aside at the demands of the crowd, but most formed a tight circle with the child corralled in the centre, as unaware as only a baby can be.
A child bursts bubbles in the air-
Too young to vocalize his thoughts,
Too young to care.
A mere infant, unprejudiced, unaware…
Unaware that because he was born black,
He’ll always be labeled a criminal.
Unaware that his color classifies him “stereotypical”
Society still focuses on his pigment, rather than the individual.
A child bursts bubbles in the air-
Believes she’s a princess, a crown in her hair.
Completely oblivious to what the media blares…
It blares that if she’s overweight, she’s not good enough.
It blares she must starve herself to correct her “bluff.”
It will make this princess believes she’s ugly,
But the media won’t acknowledge that it’s corrupt.
A child bursts bubbles in the air-
Practically a baby, can’t comprehend what is fair.
This baby cries because his brother’s blood has been shed everywhere…
Everywhere his brother went, he was bullied for play.
His brother was ostracized because he was labeled “gay.”
His brother decided his life wasn’t worth it,
His brother committed suicide today.
Society will discriminate for anything you are.
No matter how well you’re doing
You’ll never be “up to par.”
Nearly forty year ago, a man “had a dream.”
To eliminate racism, change his current scene…
When then, in hatred are we still bound?
When will we tear the walls of discrimination down?
A child bursts bubbles in the air-
Many years from now, with no more walls to tear.
The weight of injustice they will no longer have to bear.
Their world is a blank slate, to be filled by pure imagination…
Because we, as Americans, chose to end segregation.
Because we, as Americans, united as one nation.
The genocide had been coming like a slow motion train wreck. For years the fear and propaganda had been increased, just a little at a time. Nadine had made the connection between the current climate and the pre-world war II vilification of the Jews some time ago. It was easy to think of those Germans as evil, but such black-white thinking was dangerous. Those Germans were decent hard working family people made to hurt and fear, then supplied with a scapegoat and a final solution. It was people thinking themselves superior that allowed it to happen again. We were no better, no wiser, no smarter, just as simple to manipulate. First the "muslim terror" had been abroad and more heinous than hollywood movies. Then it came to our own shores in waves of attacks. Once the electorate started to think with their primitive survival brains all sympathy for the "enemy" was gone. They were inhuman after all, we'd all seen that on the televisions. With the coming "solution" came the resources grab...
The function of racism is to dehumanize, to cast the victim in a light whereby they deserve the maltreatment. It is always a harbinger of cruelty and callous behaviour. It is the permission slip the darker side of people's minds needs to take over their behaviours, suppressing any emerging empathy. We saw it in the slave trades, in Nazi philosophy and continuing in the treatment of Aboriginals, Romany peoples and refugees. The solutions can appear complicated, but in essence they are always the same; love without boarders, love without prejudice, be the people of our better natures. Work with open hearts and Love will find a way.
Through a swirl of sickening fears comes my mother's voice, casual and light. As usual, I can't hide my problems for more than a few seconds; but what can she do? Fight the police? Alter the minds of the masses? Help them see me just as I am - a teenager, a boy, stressed about homework, deadlines and making money at my part-time job. How can I tell her that my biggest fear isn't drugs or gang indoctrination, but those who swore to protect and serve? She's worked all her life to give us a good home, food and more. We've never been left wanting for hugs, smiles, laughter and acceptance in these four walls. But out there...out there I'm marked by my black skin and afro-hair. My white friends are envied for their physiques and I'm feared. Somehow my muscles threaten and theirs protect. What did I ever do? How can you prove a negative - that you're not bad? So I turn and flash a boyish smile, "Nothin' Mam, just thinking about math."
Arc finished her glass of wine before answering. It wasn't that she needed time to think, but there were times she began to feel like a scratched record being asked for the same song over and over. "When cultural guilt becomes submerged, it resurfaces as racism. The stronger the guilt, the stronger the abuse and prejudice that follow. Should there be a greed or power motivation to maintain the racism, then it becomes culturally reinforced and defended. Rare, induced or orchestrated occurrences of violence in the victimized population generate fear and the problem becomes entrenched for generations. But we can do better than that; we can choose to be fair and kind, to know that we are one species belonging to the Human Era. Don't look so glum, Cleopatra, welcome to the year 12, 017 - though in truth we've been evolving for far longer than that. After all, what is racism when seen in the light of evolutionary history? It's a crass excuse to be shitty to another person. Any idiot can be nasty, it's empathy that takes real brains."
My actions have brought you only good things, gifts of a human soul cracked open... and still you show cruelty, a cold indifference, born of some need for retribution based on the hue of my skin. Were I born with the skin of my father, I would be a sister; that I have the appearance of my mother I am to be "other," a "them." Perhaps you need help to comprehend that the gene for skin colour has no baring on any other, on my worth, or culpability for crimes of another generation. I help out of love for all humanity, to give a higher platform to all to leap from. Trauma populations come in all ethnicities, languages and faiths - it is right and proper to focus on their needs and give help. Yet the biggest problem we face is these false dichotomies, because they drain the mind as it considers so many divisions and the social importance of each, the fear closing off higher abilities. Willpower is a finite resource and these power struggles drain us, make us think in the primitive ways, lock us in to various "them" and "us" groupings. So I can tell you this - when you free your mind of such things, when you leave the arena of these dichotomies, you will be free to develop your intellect, creativity and empathy. We are human, with the same emotions and pains. The only way out is to love one another and look past these superficial markers. None can tell the content of the character by the skin colour, that is a story we tell with our deeds and... I'm here to help.