Racism...forgot that one.
It's been a long time since I pulled out my soapbox.
The BHV sister-in-law is my favourite target. The woman who wanted to know how a bunch of 'slopes' could run a French Bread Shop. Totally ignoring the fact that the incredibly lovely and hard-working family were Vietnamese and their anscestors had lived under French colonialism for centuries.
In fact, totally ignoring the fact that her own, very white brother cooked in a Chinese Restaurant for two years.
The woman who referred to her own Aunty as a 'coon' and resented her cousins receiving Austudy, but is now collecting a pension, working under the counter and collecting maintenance from three guys.
This is the woman whose daughter I bought a black babydoll for.
She's got another daughter these days, and another child on the way - time to buy a 'Hambel' doll I think. Then the girls can learn ALL the good words, really early on.
Hopefully the next baby's a boy - I'll send him a tutu and a fairywings and we can get started on gay rights really early.
Why bother with racism?
There's enough wankers in the world to denigrate - who needs to categorise them by colour-of-skin or place-of-birth?
Again, it's probably just like sport - it's easier to pick 'the enemy' if you give them their own uniform.
2 comments:
Ah the innocence of children.
I was chatting to someone recently whose young son was watching a netball game in the Commonwealth Games between Australia and Jamaica, both of whom have uniforms which are mainly yellow.
Turning to his parents he asked "But which ones are the Jamaicans, are they the ones with the spots on their skirts?"
SA country towns aren't reknowned for their multiculturalism and The Man and I have been very conscientious of raising PC children.
I didn't realise all our 'little talks' had sunk in until one day and Indian neighbour of mine walked past and my daughter declaimed in her dulcet tones "that man's skin is dark brown and mine is pink isn't it mummy".
And I cringed at her volume but said yes, because, well, it's true, which is when she sing-songed "but we are all the same on the inside aren't we Mummy?"
Kids are funny - like my son looking at an old photo I was packing away this week (yup, there's a lot of that going on)announcing "wow Mum, you were thin...and pretty - that must have been a LONG time ago!"
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