Small Great Things - Jodi Picoult
When I picked up this book to read, little did I know that it was going to be one of the most moving and paradigm shifting books I’ve ever read in my entire life. In light of events that have been unfolding around the world during the recent years, racism has been at the forefront of discussions on a more widespread scale cutting across barriers of nationality, age and political leanings. The media has depicted racism in a slightly more enlightened perspective, rather than narrowing it down to a phenomenon that happens only in certain countries.
Before reading this book, I was smugly living in a cocoon which prevented me from seeing the instances of racism, casteism and privileged living, taking place in my own surroundings. I was born in a middle class family and had a roof over my head, four healthy meals a day, a convent school education and equal access to all the facilities that my classmates and friends had. No doors were closed to me because of my background, faith or financial status. I never even knew that there existed a whole section of people in my country who were denied all of this because of their caste and economic situation. My only exposure to poverty was the beggars on the streets and when I would give them a few coins I felt like the most virtuous person on the planet.
I was under the impression that I believed in equality and I would never discriminate against anyone based on their socioeconomic status, colour of their skin or which part of the country they came from. Me? I was the next Mother Teresa in my own eyes, constantly educating my son on how he should never differentiate between people because they were of a different religion, differently abled or any of the million things that society tells us to worry about. During the course of reading this book, my eyes filled with tears at first, were opened with shock later and finally bent with shame when I realized that in my life too, in many minute yet open ways, I too am a racist. All those times when I laugh at jokes targeting a particular section of the community? Yes, I'm being a racist. All those times when I complain that all the government jobs are unavailable to the “normal” people because of the system of reservation? Yes, I'm being a racist. And finally all those times when I silently agree with my peers when remarks are being made about how some religions are intolerant and do not deserve to exist? Yes, I'm being the worst kind of racist there ever is.
My mind has been opened to the possibility that I need not accept these comments and tacitly agree with them even when I know that what I'm hearing is wrong. If I wish to be a part of the change that I want to see in the world, I should speak up and do it loud and clear so that there is no room left for doubt. In this way, I can truly become part of the solution which I'm hoping for, if not in my lifetime, at least in the next generation or two.
