Racism; How We View Each Other

by Nyasha Mhandu

Race for not simply the colour of a person’s skin, it is all things cultural combined that make someone who they are. Where are you from? Where were you born? Where do you live? Innocent questions that I will live with for the rest of my life, when I am in Ireland I am not fully Irish but when I am in Zimbabwe I am not fully Zimbabwean so how do I identify myself? The development of technology has had an increasing effect on migration all over the world and the lines are blurring between who is of this and that race. Ireland as a small society has only began to experience multiculturalism in the last 25 years especially in Dublin although there is still major racial issues evident. The new generation of Irish is not the stereotypical red haired freckled Niamh and Eoin, I know Liam and Nathan born to fully Zimbabwean parents who may never get the chance to see Zimbabwe now that most of their relatives are spread around the world so where are they really from? Being racist or not racist does does not directly imply the dislike of another person because of their race but in our everyday manner and respect for other people. Words such as ‘chink’ ‘paki’ and foreigner itself are wrongly embedded into Irish colloquialism and the negative association with them mirrors an unwelcoming society. Although many of us don’t admit it there is an element of racism in all of us in that when we see someone who is of  a certain who sounds or dresses a certain we confine them to a box of stereotypical mannerisms.

‘Do they walk their dogs?’ ‘Do they have blonde hair’ I distinctly remember asking my dad on the phone before I moved to Ireland, this was my perception of varungu the Zimbabwean term for white people. To 12 year old me if you weren’t black you were white and I was going to live in a country with white people racial diversity was not a notion I had thought of before. I had mostly seen white people on the television prior to the big move and as I look at my attitude back then there I had been raised with an embedded superiority of white skin over black skin. This racial superiority is not something only common in Zimbabwe as I noticed it during the time I spent in Thailand. When the volunteers introduced themselves we all had to share where we are from and I would introduce myself as being from Ireland and so would another pale red head girl I had worked with and there would be a common muddled look on the children’s faces. As I worked mostly with children I noticed a lot of them instantly attracted to spending more time with my white colleagues where as it took them some time to relate to me. However as time developed one of the children got comfortable enough to really get to know the difference she touched my hair skin eyelashes and compared them to hers and I felt satisfied we all equal we really were.

The widespread consensus that has been highly encouraged by the media is very much of a whitewashed society, in black communities there is a significant amount of effort put into having long straight hair or lack of appreciation for very dark skin. I myself have been subject to this as a young black woman I have seen myself making a lot of effort to fit in by getting a very long weave instead of braids just so I can have the same silky smooth hair as all my friends. The older I get the more aware of this I am and it is in my best interest to love myself as I am afro and all. Racial stereotypes about black people that have indirectly affected me include the stereotyping of black people loving chicken or being seen as loud. Growing up in a predominantly white society made it significantly more difficult for me to accept my awkward puberty phase, I grew hips and a bum a lot faster and bigger than the majority of my peers. The body shape I developed is the same as that of my mother and my aunty but I cannot say it is that of all black women. It is only since Hollywood has accepted the current trend of a big bum not being ridiculed and associated with being fat I see people commenting on my figure in a positive manner.

Prior to writing this blog I had not fallen victim to any comments I would have found deeply hurtful however on St Patrick’s Day this year a comment made by a homeless man on Henry Street really hit home for me. Walking out of work with my colleagues he struck up conversation about the violence and noise and immediately he turned to question me about ‘the likes of you’ and why we like fighting. Although the comments were not taken personally it is the fact that no matter how hard I strive to be a better version of myself to someone else my melanin levels will always be more important than my contribution to society that always play on the mind.