Interesting (again) that you’ve been thinking about this more today.

I know my parents are racist, but in that very British way where all foreigners are bad until they’ve met them. See also homosexuals (my Dad once drunkenly called me into his room when I was about 10 and told me “If you turn out gay, you are out on your ear. I’m not having you doing that shit in my house. And I know you probably will because I’ve seen how you do things.” Which made no sense to me… still doesn’t. I also heard him telling my Mum that “I’d rather him be a bender than date a Paki” (which, though a genuine shortening of the word “Pakistani,” is as bad as the N word here due to it’s repeated misuse in the 60’s and 70's.))

However, there are exceptions to their rules, and my brother’s carer who recently married his long term boyfriend is more like a son to my dad now than I am. Likewise any person of colour that they meet is “one of the good ones.” Do I point out that everytime they meet or communicate with a non English person they accept them? Yes. Do they respond that they’ve heard about all manner of terrible things “foreigners” do? Yes. They also tell me abhorrent things about people (“…and because they thought the man was a paedophile they had him abducted and beat him nearly to death…”/ “…so she pretended she’d thrown her daughter out, and the system had to house her because she was homeless…”/ “…never worked a day in his life unless it was tax free, always beat his wife up…”) before adding “…but AT LEAST THEY ARE ENGLISH” as though that makes things better.

But in spite of their slapdash attitudes to racist views, they raised me, a liberal minded left wing tolerant kind of person. They hate that, really hate it.

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