Opinion

Bimpe Archer: We need to wake up to racism and homophobia

The commission has recently completed one of its regular Equality Awareness surveys
The commission has recently completed one of its regular Equality Awareness surveys The commission has recently completed one of its regular Equality Awareness surveys

THIS week I was in the unusual position of being asked the questions for a change.

I’ve noticed that even in social settings I tend to be the most curious person in the conversation, although my inquisitorial style tends to be more Parkinson than Paxman.

Right, now that we’ve lost the younger readers with those references, let me get back to what brought me to the strange situation of being asked for my tuppence-worth (that should get rid of any lingering teenagers still reading).

The Equality Commission had invited me to be a member of their panel discussion on… well equality, obviously. As part of the Imagine Belfast season, they were hosting an interactive event on the social attitudes and public perceptions of equality issues.

As always with such events in Belfast, the audience were as well-informed and articulate as any of the panellists, which lends itself to lively and thought-provoking discussion.

The commission has recently completed one of its regular Equality Awareness surveys.

As a journalist who has been covering the beat to a greater or lesser extent for many years, such surveys underline the glacial pace of change.

Everything is generally moving in what most non-sexist-racist-homophobes would regard as “the right direction”.

More and more people are feeling less and less negative about living beside or working with (in this order) Travellers, Roma, Asylum Seekers/Refugees, Migrant Workers, Minority Ethnic Groups, Trans people and LGB.

Forgive me if I don’t let out a big `whoo-hoo’ at this news.

I would have once.

There was a time when all I wanted was no one to ask me what my name was – so I wouldn’t have to repeat it several times while they looked at you even more strangely - and to walk down the street without anyone shouting `Chocolate!’ at me.

That girl would have been thrilled to know that only 10 per cent of people viewed me and fellow members of the `minority ethnic’ group negatively.

I used to laughingly repeat the old stereotype people in Northern Ireland were so fond of telling about themselves – “We’re too busy fighting each other to bother about being racist.”

I say used to, because now I see that trope for what it is - a tacit acknowledgement that to have brown skin is to automatically have a target on your back, to be singled out as a natural victim that the `indigenous’ population are benevolently refraining from tormenting because they have more important things to do with their time.

It’s easy to ignore the uncomfortable truth in the safety of a cosy grammar school and university – although that’s not to say the experience of being othered did not intrude.

A schoolfriend once drew with some chalk on my leg saying “You always wanted to be white, now you are”. I still remember my shock at the realisation she genuinely thought I didn’t like the colour of my own skin and wanted it to be the same as hers. I certainly did not want that and had never indicated that I did. It was an automatic assumption based on an innate feeling of superiority.

It floored me at the time, but, like many other experiences, I pretty much brushed it off; because I could; because I was popular and flying high academically and I didn’t need to face the subconscious bias that would define my adult life.

What’s the alternative? To confront a close friend with their own unconscious racism? No thanks.

It’s just a short hop from ignoring offensive assumptions to moving into the common coping strategy of the `other’ in society; be they women in the workplace, or gay and ethnic minorities there and everywhere else - be as pleasant and inoffensive as possible. Don’t attract negative attention.

Maybe some people can look the other way forever; can be grateful that `just’ 20 per cent of people “would mind” if you married a member of their family (falling to 18 per cent if you were a neighbour and 16 as a work colleague).

I couldn’t. It makes me furious that in 2018 anybody thinks another person isn’t good enough just because of the colour of their skin, their nomadic heritage or who they choose to be in a relationship with.

If any millennials were still reading they would tell you I’d `got woke’. Well, so should everybody. It’s not OK and now Northern Ireland can no longer pretend to be otherwise engaged with `killing each other’. Because we’re Northern Ireland too.