It is not so easy being white. Of course, I do not have to deal with pervasive hatred and people treating me worse because of the colour of my skin. Sure, I come from a position of enormous privilege, allowing me the freedom to hone and explore my talents anywhere I wish. The reason why being white is so hard is because I still stand on the podium of oppression, my heritage stems from the subjugation of people of colour. Racism runs through my veins. It is surprisingly difficult to purge yourself, as a white person, of racism. It becomes significantly more difficult to remove that malignant bias when it is so deeply ingrained in your parents. It is nigh impossible to have a pleasant family meal when vitriol is being flung from both sides …show more content…
The news to which they listen, the people to whom they talk, the streets they walk, all only express the attitudes of a mostly white, empowered slice of the population. Unfortunately, I share the same lens. I have never walked the streets of Mtata nor Alexandra. I attend an almost exclusively white school. The vast majority of my social interactions are with wealthy, white friends. This means, whether I want it to or not, my perspectives are subtly shifted towards a more bigoted attitude. Too often, I find thoughts I would expect to hear from my parents flickering through my mind. I reject them, but that does not mean that they did not occur. These thoughts are dangerous. If I leave them to fester for too long, they will only worsen and become more extreme. I rationalise that these thoughts are evil and should be cleansed from my mind, but rationality is no weapon against racism. I want to be a light, a source of guidance for my parents. I want to push them in the right direction, but I fear that they will drag me onto the wrong path. I struggle to keep my composure, to challenge them as best as I can. I just wish they would change, not only for me, but for themselves