Showing posts with label racism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label racism. Show all posts

Tuesday, 19 February 2013

On undyeing


I decided to undye my hair. I didn’t even know you could do that until I had not lunch with my friend Rachel (font of all hairdressing knowledge) and she told me you can get this stuff that just take out all the fake colour from your hair leaving it…virgin. 

So why did I want to do it? Why now?  Well I’m not entirely sure but maybe it’s because I’ve been looking through old photographs again and I just sort of wondered what the hell colour my hair is now – cos, seriously, it’s been thirty years since I looked.  And when I was very young it was…this colour…  

Well, actually, that looks a bit light. Could be the film. But, if not, wasn't it nice of my parents to design a whole room around my hair? Or maybe they just wanted me to blend in. 

This is a bit more accurate (at least according to my memory which is, as we know, not too good).  Yes, that's my foot (bad habits start young). No, those weren't my glasses.  

Anyhow. I bought a box of stuff called Decolour Remover. Nice, no-nonsense name there.  ‘Safely removes all types of artificial colour pigments’ it said. So there are unsafe types?  ‘Ultra kind,’ it said.  Hmm, does that mean it proffers tissues and pats you on the back when your original hair colour proves to be solid grey?  ‘Precision “non-drip” cream’ it said.  Well, fine. Whatever.

So it sat on my bathroom shelf for…weeks.  Cos, really, I kinda got a bit scared.  And then, one day, I just thought, sod it. It’s only hair. I can always cut it off or dye it if it’s ghastly. 

Except. No instructions and no plastic gloves. Now the gloves weren’t a problem (I have a whole box of surgical gloves – don’t ask) but the instructions were kinda vital.  So I told the guys from Decolour and a nice chap sent me another box, no questions asked.  So now I had two boxes. But hey, I also have a helluva lot of hair.

First up. The “non drip” thing – might be great once it’s on the hair but the bloody stuff wouldn’t come out the bottle.  Second up. It stinks. Really stinks. ‘No ammonia, bleach or peroxide’ it says. So they must have used extract of cat piss instead. 

But hey.  It sort of worked.  Okay, I missed a few bits and the ends are still suspiciously dark but…yeah.
And I was quite pleased.  Except…
‘What have you done to your hair?’ said James.
‘I’ve undyed it,’ I said.
‘Huh?’
‘This is the real me.’
‘I’m not sure I like the real you.’
‘What?’  Cue hurt look.
‘Nah. I mean, I do like the real you. Of course I do. It’s just I hadn’t realized what the real you was.’
‘Huh?’
‘You said your natural hair colour was red.’
‘It is.’
‘Nah. It’s ginger.’
What?  After all these years of teaching my boy to know that racism, sexism, homophobia and so on are all totally risible – and I’ve brought up a gingist?  Holy smoke.
‘It’s okay, Mum. I love you. Even though you’re a ginger.’
‘Unconditional love, huh?’
‘You bet.’


PS. Apologies if you thought this was going to be a post on rejuvenation or immortality. It's all in the e.  :-)

Wednesday, 11 January 2012

We're all racists

‘We’re all racists,’ Bea Campbell said to me, way back in the day. At the time I was affronted.  ‘How can I be a racist?’ I spluttered defensively. ‘My adopted father is part aborigine and my foster sister is West Indian.’ I nearly went on to say, ‘and I have loads of black friends and if I don’t have a black boyfriend it’s not for want of serious trying’ (but, thankfully, I stopped myself).  Bea just looked at me and sighed. 
It took me nigh on twenty years to realise that she was absolutely right. We are all racists.

Of course, on a physiological level, racism is totally absurd, quite risible.  Peel away our skin and you’d have to be a forensic pathologist to tell the difference between us. Our rational, civilised, nice psyche baulks at it too - and quite rightly so. But on a deeper level, psychologically, it’s a very different story.

Of course you’re already spluttering; already planning your defensive/appalled/caustic comment.  Because that’s what we do. We make up our minds before we have even read something through to the end. We jump to conclusions.  We do what I did with Bea Campbell.  And, (particularly when it comes to racism) we tie ourselves in knots (I read Liz Jones’ piece on the Diane Abbott affair with a deeply furrowed brow – in fact I read it three times and still can’t make head nor tail of it).  


I've thought about writing this post several times but over the last few days I've watched the old game play out on the Authonomy forum and so I figured it was time.
 
Anyhow, let’s pull back a bit and look at why we make these boundaries, why we put ourselves in groups, why we have this urge to divide. In fact, let’s not even talk about black and white to begin with…let’s start with something a little less …emotive.

‘Why do you feel so strongly about being Welsh?’ I asked Adrian back during the rugby world cup or whatever when he was in full Cymru am byth (Wales Forever!) mode.  Again. 
‘It’s my heritage,’ he replied with a shrug. ‘It’s what I am; it’s where I come from.’
‘But, see,’ I said.  ‘If you came from the borders, back in time, you would have been – alternatively – Welsh and English.’
‘Well…politically,’ he conceded. ‘But I’d still be Welsh.’  Is that racist?  In that the corollary is ‘and thank feck I’m not bastard English’ then yes, of course it is.  J
But what does it mean to be Welsh?  I looked up ethnicity online and it seems nobody really knows why we do this; there is no *real* reason for our tribalising.  It’s a societal thing. There are a whole bunch of views and, to be very honest, none of them really answered my question.  Take this…which probably came the closest.
"Constructivism" sees both primordialist and perennialist views as basically flawed, and rejects the notion of ethnicity as a basic human condition. It holds that ethnic groups are only products of human social interaction, maintained only in so far as they are maintained as valid social constructs in societies.”


So having tribes helps us hold together as societies. Really?  But it still doesn’t really answer my question.  And then, see, a few days later Adrian was at it again… ‘Bloody South Waleans…’ he muttered.  Not sure what they’d done this time, apart from existing and being south of Dolgellau. ‘Bloody Cardiff. ’  Yup, even the Welsh (a small nation for sure) can’t help dividing itself further – North v South.  And in Llandudno, Adrian’s home town, they do it too.  ‘Oh they’re from up the valley…’ said with a certain element of scorn. ‘Llanwyrst.’ With an eyeroll.
I see it here too – on Exmoor – within our tiny towns.  Dulverton v Bampton.  Within Dulverton itself – cliques, groups, sub-divisions.  If it’s not race, it’s class, or sexuality or politics or – shit knows – football teams, werewolves v vampires. 
So I started looking into sociology and social psychology and there aren’t really any definite answers there either.  We humans compete for material resources or for social rewards, I’m told.  We have a ‘natural inclination’ for aggression and if that aggression is not unleashed on an agreed ‘enemy’ it turns inwards onto our own societies. 
Rene Girard saw ‘collective violence as sacred’; as the ‘great remedy’ for communal life.  He talked about the scapegoat as ‘absorbing all the internal tensions, feuds, and rivalries pent up within the community…a deliberate act of collective substitution.’ Scapegoat?  Yes. We have lynched and burned and gassed the scapegoat many the time before.  Hold that thought – I’ll come back to it. 
But really, why is conflict latent at our core? 
Psychically, I think, it’s because we’re set up to divide things into two. Me and you; us and them.  Difference is part of the human condition. If we didn't feel different, we would be One. We wouldn’t be here.  We’d have moved on.  We see the world in twos so we can make choices; so we can say No.  Two is freedom.  Yet, paradoxically, it is also irresolvable conflict, standoffs, stalemates, obstinacy.  So One is impossible and Two is a pain in the arse. Is there a solution?  Think about that word and hold that thought. 

Meanwhile, back on the Authonomy forum a big brave knight jousted a dragon (I mean, a filthy racist).  Did he ask the dragon what it was doing? Did he seek to understand why the dragon said what it did? No.  Instead he chose to hit the ‘report abuse’ button and incited the mob (I mean, other members of the forum) to do likewise.  And, because racism is such an emotive word and we’re all so damn scared of it, people did just that and the government booted the dragon off the site. 
'Hurrah,’ yelled the crowd, waving their pitchforks.  ‘We killed the dragon.’ 
‘No,’ said the brave knight, polishing his spear. ‘I was the dragon slayer.’ 
And then it all got very messy indeed as, having made one scapegoat, they felt better for a bit but then a few people went, ‘Huh?’ and so they hunted around for another one and found another guy (this time he just happened to be black) and started all over again with him. 

But really.  Why do we scapegoat? Because it’s far more comfortable to point a finger at someone and go ‘Look! Filthy racist’ than to confront the racism, the separation within ourselves.  There was an opportunity, on that forum, for people to feel the discomfort in what they saw as racism and to explore that feeling; to try, maybe to understand its source rather than just push it under, squash it down…again.  This is contentious, I know, but truly – have our other ways of dealing with racism worked? 
I believe there was an opportunity to look at the ‘field’- what Arnold Mindell calls the unconscious, collective, polarised patterns that lie behind racism and collective conflict.  To engage in ‘worldwork’, working with the psychosocial fields that reach beyond boundaries of race. To use a little deep democracy (in which all voices are heard – both those around us and those inside us – often they’re the same!).  As Mindell puts it: ‘Deep democracy is based upon the realisation that everyone is needed to represent reality. A sense of justice arises only in connection with community, with inner peace of mind, sustainable ongoing relationships, and worldwork that processes the tensions between groups.’  
It’s interesting stuff – check out The Global Process Institute & Worldwork website at www.worldwork.org  I’m not sure I agree with all of what he says but it’s a bloody good start.
But people didn’t question; they didn’t look within. More correctly, they didn’t look between.  In alchemy, separation is the process of establishing Two.  You and me.  Us and them. The next stage is Conjunction.  People mistake this – they see it as the two becoming one. No. Conjunction is reaching Three – you, me and Between.  Yes, it’s subtle, I know. But just think about it.  I reckon it’s the saving grace.


Meanwhile, about that particular filthy dragon.  Is he a racist?  No more than you or I.  And, actually, if people knew his ancestry, they might be very very surprised. J

Okay, I've said my piece...over to you... 

Wednesday, 19 October 2011

Bullying, racism and the Shadow...


'Mum? Can I talk to you?’ James in serious mood last night. I nodded and we sat on the edge of the bed, looking ahead, cos it’s easier to discuss tough stuff when someone isn’t looking straight into your eyes, isn’t it?
‘It’s school.  They say I’m black.  They call me ‘Blackman’ and say I come from Nigeria.’
‘Huh?’
‘It’s cos I tan so easily, cos my skin goes so dark.’

Seriously, I didn’t know where to begin, whether to be more pissed off at the bullying or the inherent racism in the little shits. Or to laugh at their sheer fecking stupidity. Anyhow, we talked it through; about how people who bully do so out of low self-esteem; about how people project their shit onto other people (via racism, homophobia etc); about how you deal with bullies (pretty much the same as you deal with internet trolls really) and so on.  But really I just wanted to go into school and pick ‘em up by the scruffs of their sorry little necks and bang their stupid little heads together.  And, seriously, don’t you just wish that schools taught the basics of psychology? Or that parents could get their own shadows under control and not pass them onto their children?  Yeah, right.  Like I’m so perfect! *hollow laugh*

Projection. A psychological defence mechanism where we plonk our subconscious thoughts or emotions onto other people – either one person or a group of people.  Psychologically it's supposed to reduce anxiety by allowing us to express our unconscious impulses and desires without owning them in conscious thought.  In our generally spiritually barren society, in which we generally turn away from the healing power of myth, more and more people project their inner potential, their ‘kingdom’ and ‘queendom’ onto celebrities. It’s heart-rending.  And our shadows?  The parts of us that shame or scare us?  We project them all over the place, willy-nilly – we scapegoat.
Interesting word, scapegoat.  Apparently it’s a mistranslation (ez ozel = the goat that departs = the ‘escape’ goat or ‘scapegoat) of the word Azazel.  Azazel was a demon; also the name of a hill from which sacrifices were thrown.  But anyhow. 
We project our shadow onto individuals (the child who is ‘different’, the ‘whore’ down the road, the drunken tramp, the crooked politician etc) but also onto groups. Men on women; whites on blacks; Christians on Muslims; socialists on capitalists (and, of course, all vice versa and every which way).  War erupts from collective shadow projections – look at any war and you see devils and demons dancing straight from the human unconscious.  

Curiously, the more creativity and ‘sophistication’ in a society, the deeper and darker the shadow annihilation that will loom up in its wake. 
But, see, the shadow isn’t all bad.  We project our darkness but, interestingly, we also project our light.  In the shadow lies power – it’s just that we misdirect it.  

William Blake talks about exactly that in The Marriage of Heaven and Hell

“Without Contraries is no progression. Attraction and Repulsion, Reason and Energy, Love and Hate, are necessary to Human existence.”

Heaven for form, hell for energy – marry the two and you find the highest form of creativity.
How do you deal creatively with the shadow?  I guess that's another post - though I read somewhere that there are language schools that teach by getting you to adopt an identity entirely different from that which you use in your normal life - causing not only swift learning but also great eruptions of energy.  Interesting, huh?


Ah heck.  This is getting a bit complicated for a blog post, isn’t it?  But really, I go round in circles at the moment. 

Back on the bed, I hugged James.  I also said a few things that made him laugh like a drain but which probably aren’t terribly good examples of ‘proper parenting’ so I won’t repeat them.
‘What can I do, love?’ I asked, after we’d stopped laughing (cos really, you have to laugh, don’t you – or you’d just end up sobbing all over the place). ‘What would you like me to do?’
‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘It just feels better having talked about it really.’

And, in a world where often there really isn’t anything you can do physically, cos really, it's all crap, it really is - sometimes talking is all there is. 
But then - if you can't find the right words?  If words only make things worse? Then what?  Shit huh?