Riots and Racism

It is difficult to put into words all the swirling feelings of the last few days but I’ll try and they may be a rambling incoherent mess but these are my raw unfiltered thoughts.

There’s the despair that the place you think of as home, the only land you really know is filled with those who at their core despise you for something you cannot control, the colour of your skin and the religion you are born into.

There’s the anger that that it’s 2024 and we are supposed to be better than this. The anger that we did not choose this place, that the colonisers went to our ancestral land and destroyed it, pillaged it, divided it resulting in millions dying and then to quote them ‘left the rats on the sinking ship’ (BBC documentary about partition, look it up). Then when they needed help during and after WW2 enlisted my grandparents (and others from colonised lands) to their cause to fight for them and to rebuild the country. They took our people and (to this day) ask us to work jobs that they feel they are too good to work, yet the chants in the street are ‘we want our jobs back’. There was a raw, but funny and poignant video circulating on TikTok saying your jobs are on Indeed, just go look!

They also took our culture and capitalised on it with their expensive yoga pants and ‘fitness’ classes and their love for the vindaloo on a Friday night, yet the loudest chants are ‘P*kis out, P*kis out’ even enlisting their innocent children to do their dirty work too.

There’s the fear of your own safety when walking the streets, even if you do live in London. The constant anxiety and stress about the safety of your loved ones who live up north and look visibly Muslim. The frantically checking the news to make sure nothing is kicking off in their local areas. Messaging your parents and asking them to avoid certain areas and to not walk alone to the shops or the mosque.

There’s the sadness that when it’s mentioned by your white colleagues, friends and other people in your life that it feels theoretical to them. Having to sit there politely and listen to the endless comments of

“I’m so sorry”.

“It’s awful”.

“I don’t know what to say”.

“I don’t know what to do”.

“Don’t be sad, It will blow over soon”.

“Try not to think about it”.

“I don’t want to go on about it too much, but yeah it’s bad”.

“I’ve never really had to think about this before as I’ve never experienced anything like this”.

“I’ve done courses on racism and intersectionality, I get it”.

“I try not to think about it and avoid social media and the news because I don’t want to feel sad”.

And robotically replying “Yeah there’s nothing that can be done” when secretly, you wish they would do more in their own lives to stand up against it. The disappointment that there were those who were so vocal and read all the anti-racist books during 2020 when George Floyd was murdered, but now their turn has come to speak up and I hear radio silence. It makes me wonder, was it yet another theoretical exercise because it was a pandemic and they were bored?

In spite of that I do feel the care and I know it comes from a genuine and good place, but it can quickly feel like platitudes when you hear the same thing over and over. I am also glad that they don’t have to experience this, I would never want them to but with that also comes the fatigue of having to constantly educate people through my past, present and intergenerational lived experiences and knowledge.

Whilst, I never want them to have to experience it, I do wish they thought about it more, that they had the conversations on their own without a brown or black person present and considered how they could be activists and allies rather than passively watching it happen and tutting and saying how sorry they are. In doing so it would remove the emotional burden from me and others who face constant discrimination.

I was driving back from an appointment yesterday and Civil Rights song by Sam Cooke -A change is gonna come was playing. When he sings:

“I go to the movie

And I go downtown

And somebody keep telling me

“Don’t hang around”

….

“Then, I go to my brother

And I say, “Brother, help me, please”

But he winds up knockin’ me

Back down on my knees, oh”

It hit raw and hard, to think this song was released in 1964 and 60 years later we are in the same place!

Amongst the sorrow lives love, gratitude and hope. The love and gratitude for those wonderful people in my life who checked in on me and asked me if I and my family were ok. I was really touched and moved by the messages and care.

Then there is hope. I have felt proud at how some of the Imams and others have extended their hand to build a bridge and embraced the rioters with love and care in spite of the destruction that was happening around them. They saw and recognised that hurt people, hurt people! They showed how untrue the stereotype of ethnic minorities being savage and violent really are and literally and metaphorically embraced those with hatred in their hearts with compassion and care.

There is a saying amongst people of colour and indigenous people who have been wronged and want reparations, that the fear is we would do upon you what you did to us, but that is not and never has been the case. We want to be able to live in peace and unity, sharing our culture and knowledge and love. That has was very much on display the last few days from brown and black people even when we are met with violence.

They truly embodied the “I’m ok, you’re ok” life positions that Eric Berne talked about in TA (psychology) theory (look it up) because, as the late Jo Cox said “we are far more united and have far more in common than that which divides us”. We will stand united with those who look like us and those who don’t and are willing to stand with us, because our spirit will not be broken by hatred and violence. We will not be intimidated and silenced, we will not fear you when we go out or walk the streets because we have every right to be here.

It may be naive but I genuinely believe that hope will be the driving force to bring real and meaningful change, without hope there is darkness and despair. My hope is that meaningful change can be made right from the top, it is easy to blame the working class and the ‘uneducated’ as the driving force of racism, but it did not start with them. It started with the intellectuals, the elite and the systems and this is where it needs to be rooted out thus trickling down to the ‘ordinary people’.

Finally, love will always prevail over hate. And to finish with Sam Cooke.

“It’s been a long

A long time coming, but I know

A change gon’ come

Oh yes, it will”