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Whenever I fill out an application for employment or a market research poll, I am asked my gender and race. The choices are usually:
Black or African-American
Latino or Hispanic
Asian
Other
Caucasian, White or Northern European
No response or prefer not to disclose
I often sit and stare at the categories for a bit and wonder, am I white or Caucasian, what an odd word. I wouldn’t define myself in this way. And why does it matter? There’s an odd resistance to being categorized. Labeled and put away in a small box. As I get older, I become less and less comfortable with the boxes, yet ironically find myself resorting to them more and more.
This is a round-about way of discussing racism, a hot-button topic that for me at least has always been present in my life. Odd, I know, since I am white. You would think being “white” that I would not be affected by it. But what is white exactly? What is black for that matter? People aren’t really white or black if you think about it – their skin color is shades of brown. Mine is olive brown for example. White is a very light almost pale shade of brown, beige, but not pure white unless of course the person is an albino and bleached of color. Black is a very dark shade of brown, no one is really pure black, with a few exceptions. Most of us are either light brown, yellowish brown, reddish brown or dark brown.
But racism isn’t based on just color alone. It’s not that simple. If it were, it would be easier to understand, to catalog, and to eradicate. It’s not a matter of being black or white or in reality, different shades of brown. Nor is racism limited to the color of one’s skin. You can be racist and have black skin, and you can be racist and have white skin.
When I looked it up in two different dictionaries – Webster’s and American Heritage – the definition was the same: “The belief that some races are inherently superior to others.”
Superior.
That’s the one word that stands out for me in that definition. Why? Why is it so important for someone, anyone, to be better than someone else? One tribe, one culture, one country, one person, one family, one group, one species, one animal, one planet, one spec of dust, one book, one painting, one movie, one play, one song, one piece of land, one body, one gender – the list goes on.
When I was watching TV this week, I lost count of the number of times people were competing for a person, a thing, an item or an award. Stating they were “the best” or “superior” in some way.
Why do we compare everything and everyone to one another – placing people and things in slots based on the comparison? As opposed to appreciating people and things for what they can do and who and what they are on their own? As individuals, separate from the group or category?
I’m tired of doing it. I wish I could stop doing it. Comparing and contrasting. Ranking. Rating. Competing. It is making me miserable. If I could just find a way to turn off that part of myself for just a little while.
( cut for length )
Black or African-American
Latino or Hispanic
Asian
Other
Caucasian, White or Northern European
No response or prefer not to disclose
I often sit and stare at the categories for a bit and wonder, am I white or Caucasian, what an odd word. I wouldn’t define myself in this way. And why does it matter? There’s an odd resistance to being categorized. Labeled and put away in a small box. As I get older, I become less and less comfortable with the boxes, yet ironically find myself resorting to them more and more.
This is a round-about way of discussing racism, a hot-button topic that for me at least has always been present in my life. Odd, I know, since I am white. You would think being “white” that I would not be affected by it. But what is white exactly? What is black for that matter? People aren’t really white or black if you think about it – their skin color is shades of brown. Mine is olive brown for example. White is a very light almost pale shade of brown, beige, but not pure white unless of course the person is an albino and bleached of color. Black is a very dark shade of brown, no one is really pure black, with a few exceptions. Most of us are either light brown, yellowish brown, reddish brown or dark brown.
But racism isn’t based on just color alone. It’s not that simple. If it were, it would be easier to understand, to catalog, and to eradicate. It’s not a matter of being black or white or in reality, different shades of brown. Nor is racism limited to the color of one’s skin. You can be racist and have black skin, and you can be racist and have white skin.
When I looked it up in two different dictionaries – Webster’s and American Heritage – the definition was the same: “The belief that some races are inherently superior to others.”
Superior.
That’s the one word that stands out for me in that definition. Why? Why is it so important for someone, anyone, to be better than someone else? One tribe, one culture, one country, one person, one family, one group, one species, one animal, one planet, one spec of dust, one book, one painting, one movie, one play, one song, one piece of land, one body, one gender – the list goes on.
When I was watching TV this week, I lost count of the number of times people were competing for a person, a thing, an item or an award. Stating they were “the best” or “superior” in some way.
Why do we compare everything and everyone to one another – placing people and things in slots based on the comparison? As opposed to appreciating people and things for what they can do and who and what they are on their own? As individuals, separate from the group or category?
I’m tired of doing it. I wish I could stop doing it. Comparing and contrasting. Ranking. Rating. Competing. It is making me miserable. If I could just find a way to turn off that part of myself for just a little while.
( cut for length )
