A fair number of our lectures have had strong links to the topics of racism and colonialism, something that makes a lot of sense given their place as a local conflict in Aotearoa. Admittedly, these lectures likely stand out the most to me because of my lack of connection to war. I don’t have any living relatives who experienced it, and have no clear links to it myself. Aotearoa’s colonial past and present is therefore one of the the most local links to conflict I have.
However, one thing that has been on my mind for the past while is how we handle these topics. The majority of us in the class are white, and, for us Pākehā, racism and colonialism can only really ever exist as abstract concepts. We reap the benefits without having to recognise and face the history and its consequences. It is all too easy to treat these topics as just discussions to be had around a dinner table, but, as Mathevi called me out on, we need to remember that they aren’t the hypotheticals some of us experience them as.
So, how are we treating the topics of racism, colonialism and their impacts with respect? How are we ensuring that those of us who don’t just experience them as hypotheticals aren’t being ambushed by these topics? I have no idea what it’s like to experience racism, but I know that when someone starts bringing up transphobia out of the blue, it tends to put a real damper on my day. Are we caring enough about how our discussions impact upon all of our us? What can we do to ensure that we are treating these topics with the care they deserve?
I don’t really have an answer to this? I have no idea what others’ experiences in these classes have been like; while I can think of ideas for how we can do better, I’m also not the sort of person who should be answering these questions. As I say, these experiences can only ever exist in a distanced hypothetical for me. But what I do know is that these questions need to be considered all the same.
It’s not like you can take a course in first-hand experiences with discrimination: no one going through it intentionally chooses to be discriminated against, for the sake of it. It frustrates me, wanting to help everyone, but feeling like I don’t have the ‘prerequisites’ to fully understand the damage. I don’t want to overstep my bounds, and I won’t stay silent about the issues, so there’s always going to be a line to walk.
Hey, thanks for this. I would say I can speak for the other side of the fence most of my life. The fact that we can discuss these things in class freely (as well as shared beliefs, B words, and political positions) gives me the confidence to learn perspectives. And although have grown in separate gardens the sun still shines for both of us. In honesty, it’s sorta awkward to talk bout, because of the fact you talk hypothetically. When sometimes people just want to have a break from the raw stereotypes. And sometimes from my point of view again, it makes you question which side of half cast to you listen to. But it is good to normalize these discussions. We must take away the tapu so we can speak for each other’s rights. Respecting their seat in the room is the beginning of any questionable hairy, racism-based conversations. Respect their seat in the room when they are not there is doing something about it. E.g: pronunciation of names, correcting historical facts, recognising your surroundings.