It’s quite the British (or, perhaps, English?) stereotype that we don’t like to make a fuss about things. “Mustn’t grumble” is shorthand for “everything’s shit but, you know, talking about it is just improper”. “Stiff Upper Lip” was drilled into children as a sense of strength, of inner fortitude, but with our 2020 hindsight feels more like something to enable bullying. Like the Victorians exhorting us to look for the Silver Linings and forget about the bloody enormous black clouds…
A few years ago a friend and colleague was offended and hurt by a racist act, originating less from malice than from ignorance and white privilege, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t racist. I didn’t see the incident, but knew that she had been deeply upset, with good reason. But in the days and weeks that followed, I was silent. I knew that it was ‘being dealt with’, and I didn’t think it was my place to make any more fuss.
I realise now that I let my friend down by not letting her know I was on her side, by not asking how I could help, or listening to her. I realise now that not making a fuss is exactly what contributed to the incident in the first place. And I realise now that me deciding ‘how bad’ a racist act is exactly the same white privilege that enables countless racist acts, every day.
But it seems the times-they-are-a-changing. From #metoo to Extinction Rebellion and Black Lives Matter, not to mention their counterparts among alt-right groups, protest is the new S.O.P. for today. Often organised, promoted and live-streamed on social media, more people are more aware more quickly of things that piss them off and how they can actually do something about it.
Our teenage children are absorbing this new mindset that says it’s not OK to let things go, to grin and bear it, turn the other cheek, get on with it or do anything else with ‘it’. They’re making themselves aware, reading and watching to get informed, talking to their friends or like-minded people on social media in ways that simply weren’t possible a generation ago.
I hope this early awareness, education and mass mobilisation can deliver results on a properly macro- scale. Even more, I hope it delivers frequent, everyday results on a micro- level, because things that were ignored or even condoned before won’t be in the future.
For her first homework of the GCSE Art course, our younger teen (not far off 15) was asked to decorate their sketchbook. This is how she did that, and I couldn’t be more proud. The time is always right to do what’s right.
I was recently witness to crass, unacceptable sexist behaviour by two middle-aged men. If it had been a scene from The Inbetweeners I would have cringed at the offensively crude ‘jokes’ they thought were hilarious bants. Except they’re old enough to be the Dads of The Inbetweeners, and this wasn’t bants their own expense, but wholly targeted at a woman I’m sure they would describe as a friend. I was deeply uncomfortable, even more so when she said, smiling, “I just have to play along…”.
To my shame I didn’t say anything at the time, as I was effectively an invited guest in their space. But I have done subsequently, to my friend who invited me to be there. It turns out he has seen the same sort of thing before, and feels equally uncomfortable, tries to avoid it. And now he’s said he wants to do something about it, to let it be known he doesn’t accept it either.
Part of me felt almost brave for calling this out, even indirectly. But it’s not brave, it’s essential. I Reckon that not calling it out is cowardly. Silence really is violence, because if noone says anything, these guys, and many more like them will definitely keep doing what they do, bullying women who can’t or won’t answer back.
I know I have lived with white, male, middle-class privileges all my life. Noone has ever asked me where I’m from, or commented on my accent, or been patronising towards me about pretty much anything. But I’m done not making a fuss.
What I Reckon 