Why I No Longer Carry the Burden of Racism

 

You become truly free only when you travel light through life

Back in early winter, I was quietly shopping alone in an ethnic food store in the small Northern European town where I these days spend most of my time. It was around 4 pm, and the exotic fruit outside the store drew my attention to it. I had never seen this particular store before, so I was curious about checking it out. More so, I needed to restock some oyster sauce. I am not sure about the ownership of the store, nor am I interested in finding out. For purposes of this blog post, I will mention that the race of the pleasant-seeming older woman at the register was ambiguous to me. She was of course of lighter pigment but from her features, she appeared to me as biracial, perhaps only partially European.

Microaggression or Rudeness?

Immediately my eyes met the cashier’s, I received a cold reception. Her face darkened. The smile she gave the previous client fled from her face like a flash of lightning. In its place were a pursed lip, and a stern look with a hint of either disgust or annoyance, I couldn’t exactly tell which. But I noticed it. I paid for my items, thanked her, and left, slightly surprised by the interaction.

This is what many people of color face when living both in and out of our homelands. We face confusion when our lighter counterparts are treated in a way we perceive to be different. For some, it is a microaggression, for others just plain rudeness, but for many, the answer lies somewhere between these two opposite ends, and it is puzzling.

The question, “Was I treated in a (blank) manner because of my skin color?” is one that often causes mental torment among people of color like myself. And it doesn’t necessarily have to be in faraway lands, it happens even in our own towns which are 99% composed of our race. For instance, when a fairer-skinned customer in the local restaurant is served quicker than us as we wait hours more for our food despite arriving before them.



Burdensome Burdens

For years, I carried this burden of racism on my poor back. I reacted and internalized the actions of others, which I now know to have absolutely nothing to do with me. The hate, ignorance, or fascism of another person should never be mine to carry. Because taking them on merely leads to resentment, bitterness, and a life lived in eternal anger. It is a sad existence I refuse to live through.

My mind started to change years ago after I assisted people of the same race group as me, and later when my hour of need arose, I failed to get the same reciprocity from them. I believed in the invisible pact that my skin folk would always be in my corner. Sadly, they displayed selfishness and exploited my vulnerability, pinching whatever pennies I had on me in return. This shocked me as I thought I was ‘one of their own’.

Instead, in that crucial moment, an acquaintance who was my polar opposite in many ways came to my rescue. Our skin colors and ideologies were as far as the earth is from the sun. However, I required help, and that person stepped in without taking advantage of my situation like the members of my in-group had done.

This is not to say that people who have the same race as me have never been reliable, in fact, I can count on more than one hand those who have been a friend indeed. However, there are an equal number of people who come from different racial groups who have treated me just in the same kind manner.




No Longer a Victim
I realized that I live out internalized victimhood when I think that only people who look like me are in my corner. Any attachment to a quality of a person based on their skin color, whether positive (my people will always help me) or negative (those people will never respect me) is internalized victimhood and rarely beneficial. More unites us than divides us, and it is often external things like political agendas, misinterpreted religious texts, or unresolved ancestral wrongs that attempt to force us to draw internal hard lines between "us" and "them." I no longer wish to be a victim of all of these elements. Life has so many beautiful moments and ugly ones too, which would not benefit me one bit if I constantly wear the rose-colored glasses of racism.

Shaking It All Off
Over the years, I gradually shed this load of racism off myself. I now try to take confusing interactions that may have anything or nothing to do with race with a grain of salt. There may be many reasons other than the color of my skin that made the store clerk treat me the way she did as compared to the previous customer. Or, perhaps, my race was the sole reason that she was unwelcoming. Whatever the reason may be, I will never know, and it is pointless to simmer in speculation. It only causes anguish and diminishes my life's joy and productivity when I carry the load of racism.


The racist attitudes of others should be none of my concern. I refuse to be weighed down by hostile experiences, overthinking them, or ruminating in anger after they happen. Doing that would only dim the light in me. If someone chooses to hate me for such a minor feature of me as the hue of my skin, it has everything to do with their choices and should not affect who I am within. That only exposes their weaknesses, and cannot diminish my strengths. It is definitely never a burden of mine to carry.