I am a racist, a textbook racist - Human fragility

This post will most likely eat me alive at some point. But hopefully not. 

A couple of months back, I met a guy - quite famous, knowledgeable and respected all over the world. 

I happened to say that I know what discrimination feels like and wrote an essay about my experience with a minority in my country. 

I was somehow offended... hurt – hurt is the right word - that he asked: `why do you call yourself a victim when speaking about this minority?` 

I didn't think `I called myself a victim`, I was a victim in the right sense of the word. 

I was proud of this essay that was my experience in which I added a few stereotypes, based on studies. 

I won't say what minority was involved and what stereotypes were quoted. I am already risking too much. 

I've never heard from the guy again. 

I didn't like him from the start. He was... out of my league and I normally don't mix up with people that are above me. I know my place in the world. But... at 46, people, both male and women, could and might have a midlife crisis. 

For some stupid reason, I thought he would understand what I meant. 

He... clearly did understand a lot more than I wrote. A lot more that I knew about myself. 

He read between the lines. 

Then I listened to a very famous book on... racism. A book he mentioned and suggested I read – that before the dreadful essay, of which I was... somewhat proud. 

While reading it I realised that I was a racist. 

A textbook one. 

It made me think. Reflect. 

Am I really a racist? 

I write books on racism. `Ten Years in Italy, Three Weeks a Human.`

I was discriminated against and faced discrimination often. 

Can I really be a racist when I am discriminated against? 

The answer is... Yes. Sadly. 

I am racist against all my beliefs. I am racist, despite being a good person, a good Christian... and I am ashamed of myself. 

Then again... whatever I say in my defence would be a textbook excuse. One after another. 

`I am a good person. 

I have friends from all over the world. 

I am a Christian. 

I faced discrimination. I know what it feels like. I couldn't and would never be a racist. It's against all that I believe in.` 

Bam, bam, bam! 

Textbook excuses. 

I am white. I was born in a `white country`. 

I have always benefited from `White Privilege`. 

But is it really true? 

In my country?! Back then, during Ceaușescu's communist regime?! 

It didn't feel that way, quite the opposite I would say. 

Is it true that I am a textbook racist? 

Is it true that I don't know that I am a racist? 

I thought about it. 

I shed tears. 

For my sins you say... 

Maybe. 

I am yet to know what my sins are regarding the bigotry. 

I mean, I am a sinner, but.... a racist? 

God, please, forgive me for thinking that this is not fair. That it is not right. 

What about the opposite, the vice versa, the other side of the coin? 

What if I am not a racist? 

What if... what if I am a racist against.... bad people? Regardless of their skin colour, nationality, gender and sexuality? 

I used to be a racist, a homophobe... a long time ago. Twenty or more years ago. 

I am disgusted by how I used to think. 

I didn't know any better. 

Then I emigrated. Left the village, left the church, the society, the country and saw another world, learned about other cultures. Met homosexuals, and became friends with them. 

I mingled with all sorts of people. All races, all religions. 

At first, I was prejudiced. Yes. 

I was afraid, 

Judgemental. 

Critical. 

God, God... how horrified I am now of those feelings. 

Despite being a racist and a homophobe in the past, I have never, EVER, not once been unjust. I have not treated them differently. 

I didn't joke about them. 

I didn't laugh at them. 

I was secretly... appalled by some things... things I didn't understand. 

But I wore a mask and nobody ever knew... except for myself. 

I admit that I was racist. 

But I learned to love everyone who was good. 

BAM! This is another thing that a racist would say, according to that book. 

Therefore, I won't say it because if someone were to confront me, I can't defend myself. 

I could never. 

I didn't bow my head, I didn't die inside without a fight. I fought racists. 

Openly. In real life and in the virtual one. 

It didn't bring me any good. 

It didn't make me feel better. 

I didn't win. 

I could never win. 

So, when they will come for me... when I will be accused of racism again... I will simply admit that I am. 

It will save everyone's energy and maybe they - the ones who would want to decapitate me for ever daring to speak about my experiences... about me being a victim of a minority - will focus on... 

I don't know. 

On reality? 

People, regardless of who they are, where they come from, their education, their religion, gender and so on etc. people discriminate against people. 

That's what we do. We are flawed. Big-headed. Arrogant. Presumptuous etc. 

But I am not a racist. Not anymore. 

BAM! 

Another textbook phrase. 

I have to write a better plea. 

But I am not as educated or knowledgeable as those who came up with such texts. 

I know who I am, how I think, what I felt... how I was treated by... people like me. 

The `Fragility` goes both ways. All ways. 

I won't make a list. 

You know what I am talking about. 

German people pay for what Hitler's done even now. They will always be discriminated against by... people. 

People who think they have the right to do that because... 

I am a victim. I was a victim. My parents were a victim. My siblings were victims. 

No, not of Hitler. No. 

I do not blame an entire society. An entire country. I blame those who did it. 

Those people only. And they are gone. 

I don't take it upon their children. They have no fault. 

You want to be fair? 

Acknowledge that (some) people are racist against... other people. 

But I do understand why the books, the seminars and the fight. 

I fought too. 

I just couldn't shout that loud. 

May all of us be forgiven. 

And those who think of other beings as being inferior humans.. well, I hope they will come around. 

One day. 

I support the fight against racism, discrimination and injustice. 

But punching me in the face... is not... fair. 

I have the right to defend myself the way I know. 

It isn't with big words. 

I am who I am and I am not ashamed of myself as – nowadays, in 2022 that is – I would never think less of a person because they are different. 

I do, however, reserve myself the right to think less of those who are MEAN. Those who pick up on others. 

I do not blame it on their race, I blame it on their... humanity. 

Have I taken the rights of others? 

Maybe. 

But I didn't know about it. I still don't know and I don't think it applies to someone born in a `white` mostly country. 

I am sorry for that, but now I am fighting for myself against all sorts of discrimination. 

Should I go back and fight for the people who picked on me when I was a child? Who bullied me? Who terrified me to death? 

I am not a saint. 

I am just a human. 

A very fragile human. And some of that fragility is down to them. But I don't blame every person from that minority. 

I don't blame anyone anymore. 

We were children. 

Children can be cruel. I was unlucky. If I were stronger and bolder I would speak openly about it and make a tremendous scandal... #

But when would this be over? 

I wish I could be forgiven for ever being a racist. I wasn't a xenophobe out of hate. 

Now I know it was wrong. I have known it for a long time and I condemn racism. 

As I condemn those who call an entire race... `bigots` and make everyone pay for what others have done wrong in the past. 

How is that fair? 

In which world? 

How does that make it better? 

For who? 

Eye for an eye? 

I am sorry for those who have ever been discriminated against. I wish I could take it away. But it's not in my power. 

All I could say is that I am penitent of the way I used to think too. 

I am embarrassed about being a human sometimes. Quite often really. For one reason or another. 

Those who hate me for trying to explain... are not good people. 

How do you know what I feel inside? 

How do you know what I have done in my life? 

I could never win a debate on this or... any other subject. 

I am a weak target. 

Please don't come after me. 

But maybe you should. It would turn me into a strong human. 

Maybe. 

Or it would be my demise. 

Whatever is reserved for me, it will happen and I am okay with it. 

I love you. 

Yes. 

You. Human or animal. Or thing. Whatever you are. I love everything for real. Except for bad people. 

I do not like bad people who make others suffer. 

In the name of... God or justice. 

Just be a good person. 

You don't have to care, but don't hurt. Don't step on others' dignity. 

I might be delusional, but I hope the right will prevail against the wrong. 

One day. On this earth. 

In all universes and dimensions. 

One day we will learn to love one another. I won't be alive to see it. But I could write about it now. As a prediction.  

I still have a lot to learn about racism, prejudices, and bias. I will. I am. 

People, mentalities, beliefs... change. 

We grow. 

We are malleable. 

We evolve. 

I wish it was a good thing. 

It's a very confusing and contradicting post, I am aware of that. I am not happy about it. 

I am glad I never heard from the person that provoked me to rethink my feelings regarding racism. It helped me understand that I am not without sin and I need to work on it. And I am. 

So grateful for that. 

Human fragility. That is my crime.