For the past year or so, I have been keeping something I call a racism journal. This was inspired by the actor Michael Richards, whose bigoted onstage outburst in 2006 made everyone gasp "Not Kramer!" and for a week or two enjoy Seinfeld a little less. (In case you've forgotten: Mr. Richards was performing stand-up and responded unforgivably to two black hecklers. There was some bit about forks and trees, also, which I still don't understand.)
The common response to Mr. Richards was vilification. He had done something evil and was therefore evil, despite appearing via satellite on Letterman and begging for forgiveness. Mr. Richards claimed he wasn't racist and didn't know where the words had come from - but this wasn't enough. Even though Michael Richards said, "I'm not a racist," the cat was out of the bag. Michael Richards was most definitely a racist.
To those who condemned him, granted, what the guy did was appalling and beyond apology. Still, what disappoints me is that his diatribe didn't really spark any sort of discussion; people labelled him a dick or lunatic and that was pretty much it. One of the few thoughtful responses came from Michael Shermer at the Los Angeles Times, who had the guts to admit, "Consciously and publicly, Richards is probably not a racist. But unconsciously and privately, he is. So am I. So are you." Mr. Shermer references Project Implicit, a Harvard research study that tests for innate judgments on various categories, including race. The results of the study reveal startling prejudices among participants who otherwise consider themselves liberal and open-minded.
I like that the folks at Harvard are confronting purportedly progressive people with this stuff. Usually, racism isn't something we're allowed to engage with, beyond condemning it - and certainly never, ever admit to. But it's exactly this repression that makes us prone, like Michael Richards, to silently harbouring hatred and bigotry. And my own feeling was that, rather than let these thoughts fester in my subconscious, it would be best to address them, get them out, and hopefully prevent horrible, surprising things from boiling over.
Facing race
On Tuesday, Barack Obama spoke directly, with honesty, to the people of America. "Race is an issue," he said, "that I believe this nation cannot afford to ignore right now."
The same is true in Canada, although it's a difficult topic: What do we say? I don't consider myself racist - an attitude I believe I share with most conscientious Canadians. We live in a multicultural country that esteems acceptance, where children grow up learning that racism is wrong and paint murals to prove it. In Canada, calling someone "racist" is an insult based on our homegrown values of politeness and propriety: 1) Accept everyone; 2) Don't rock the boat; 3) When someone, regardless of race, holds a door for you, say, "Thank you," and when someone says, "Thank you," say, "You're welcome."
Racism in Canada isn't a problem of public opinion, nor does it commonly manifest itself in violence as it does elsewhere in the world.
Toronto, especially, enjoys an international reputation as a mosaic of ethnicities and religions, where immigrants are encouraged to speak their native languages and practice their faiths. And, to be fair, the Torontonian approach to racial multiplicity is based in tenets of which we should be proud. True equality, however, extends beyond merely allowing people into the city and then tolerating their behaviour.
While we denounce other places with institutionalized policies that discriminate against immigrants, or disallow them entirely, in idealistic Toronto a brand of racism is practiced that is much deeper and more systemic.
Admitting this is nothing earth-shattering; these days, many of us recognize that Toronto's multicultural veneer is less than flawless. A recent, useful case is the Aileen Siu-Evon Reid debacle of July of last year, which revealed that casually racist attitudes infiltrate even our supposedly egalitarian provincial government.
Like Michael Richards's tirade, Ms. Siu's moronic e-mail resulted in public denunciation of an individual; similarly, it also failed to galvanize much thoughtful dialogue. Surely, more people than we'd like to think at Queen's Park could have been the one calling Evon Reid a "ghetto dude." Instead, in typical Toronto style, Ms. Siu was lambasted in the media, but then more or less exonerated from the entire mess when she left her job days later. With Ms. Siu gone, we were to believe that the premier's office had been purged of its racist element.
From what I understand, the token fallout-mitigating workshops for Ms. Siu's former co-workers focused on grievances, rather than confessions, of similar, dangerous attitudes - a perfect example of how difficult it is to foster thoughtful dialogue around these issues in this city. And sure, most of us who "aren't white" (and maybe even some of us who are) have experienced racism at some point. I've been called, bafflingly enough, "nigger," "chink," "Paki," and "Osama" - often screamed from passing cars that go squealing heroically off into the night. Luckily for me, these impassioned attempts at racism were so misguided as to be hilarious, and calling myself "victim" would be ridiculous.
While experiences such as Evon Reid's are deeply more troubling, we still need to get beyond finger-pointing and blame.
Barack Obama spoke on Tuesday about this, as well, claiming, "Anger is not always productive… it keeps us from squarely facing our own complicity in our condition."
If we want Toronto to be a truly multicultural city in which disparate ethnic groups value and respect one another, people need to stop playing victims and accusers and instead look at their own behaviour and attitudes.
Had I been in charge in Queen's Park back in July, I'd have kept Ms. Siu around, encouraged her to speak openly with her colleagues and the media about what she'd done, and used the episode to encourage others to fess up to similar feelings - which, I think, would have been the first step toward addressing deeper, systemic problems. But, obviously, the only person I'm in charge of is me. So, back to the racism journal. Let me explain how it works.
The journal
Over a twelve-month period, every time I made an assertion, had a thought or acted on an attitude based on race, I did my best to stop and write it down. This proved useful in recognizing how I think and interact with people of other races, and brought into shocking relief how often my behaviour is based in prejudice or stereotype. My racism journal has revealed that, although I conduct myself publicly in a way that conforms to Canadian political correctness, what I'm often thinking, and occasionally doing, is often very racist indeed.
Keeping this journal required recognizing instinctive actions and later articulating them, retroactively, in language. Transposing these moments from my subconscious to paper confronted me with some pretty shameful behaviour, clearly innate thoughts and feelings that I'd otherwise never have given a second thought to. Here are some excerpts:
"…today I was sitting on the subway beside a black man. When he got off at his stop, I instinctively checked my pocket for my wallet."
"… at the movies I noticed a Middle Eastern-looking guy in line, wearing a backpack. For a moment, I second-guessed going into the theatre."
"… a Hasidic man cut in front of me at the grocery store. My thought was not: 'Asshole.' My thought was: 'Jew.' "
We often hear that racism is largely a result of ignorance - but I live in Toronto, with regular exposure to all races. If my journal is any indication, exposure to other cultures doesn't necessarily allay racist tendencies. Maybe part of the problem is that Toronto neighbourhoods are often divided along ethnic lines, so (with a few notable exceptions) there's little interaction between one cultural group and another. My only real communication with the city's Vietnamese population, for example, is when I order pho tai from one of their excellent restaurants.
These sorts of boundaries don't only exist between the dominant culture and minority groups, either. A couple of years ago, political activist and local TV host Tarek Fatah had an excellent op-ed piece in the Toronto Star ( Misled by Multiculturalism, June 1, 2006), which paints the city's ethnic panoply as largely cosmetic, and often divisive. The article begins by lamenting the lack of diversity at cultural events in the GTA - "Why is it that whenever [any]ethnic minority organizes events, the only other community invited to participate is the dominant white community?" - and ends on a note of despair: "While I value diversity, I am tired of celebrating it." Mr. Fatah insists that minority groups need to come together and celebrate their "common humanity."
Mr. Fatah is right: Torontonians of various ethnicities need to move beyond merely allowing themselves to provide the city statistical diversity. Even more worrying is the tendency of some non-white individuals to absolve themselves from the charge of racism. Consider how Aileen Siu reacted when her "ghetto dude" comment reached Evon Reid, citing her own Asian heritage as exemption from being capable of racial discrimination.
Presumably, Ms. Siu subscribes to the erroneous notion that only white people can be racist. What? Now here's something those Queen's Park focus groups should have talked about!
With all these rifts in our multicultural fabric, I've been thinking about how to bring - if not force - all these disparate groups into contact. Normal social structures don't seem to be working. The natural answer, in these wired-in times, seems to be the internet. And so, desperate for recourse, I'm offering a modest proposal: Racebook.
Like the disarmingly popular Facebook, Racebook would be a catalogue of Torontonians that you could browse on your computer. It would be different in that these searches, and the resulting "friendships," would be made entirely based upon race. For instance, if you typed "Blacks" into the search bar, all the black people registered on the site would appear. If you surfed for Jews, then Jews you would find. Status Indians? Done. East Indians? Okay. West Indians? Sure, no problem. You'd sign up knowing you were going to be racially profiled. There is no, "Are you only talking to me because I'm Congolese?" Yes, of course I am. That's exactly the point.
Splitting halves
The other thing my racism journal has made me recognize is the careful dance of racial language in which we all take part in this city.
When people ask me my "background," a common question, I've started telling them that I'm "half white." This usually proves inadequate, and sometimes disconcerting. Folks want to be able to categorize other people based on difference: knowing what you "are" will dictate how they can interact with you - and more importantly, what they can and can't say. My ambiguous response might seem snide, but I struggle to think how it's any different from people defining themselves as "half" whatever ethnic minority. Regardless the halves, I'm still neither one race nor the other.
Racially specific language often disguises itself in a politically correct vocabulary, but these are terms that still seem based in categorization and marginality. "Asian," for example, is terminology that I've begun to question after using it repeatedly in my journal. Iraq is part of Asia, but in common parlance Iraqis are not "Asian." Indians couldn't be more Asian, but when we speak of "Asians" we preclude even them. But yet when we say "Asian" in Toronto, we know exactly who's being talked about.
My question is this: How is this word better than "Oriental," or the even more anachronistically offensive "Chinaman"?
"Asian" suggests the same stereotypes, but allows us to typecast because it is part of some dumb new lexicon that, due to novelty and semantics, has been decreed favourable - never mind that it compartmentalizes people from cultures as vastly disparate as Japanese, Filipino and Tibetan.
And then, of course, there is the other, equally problematic approach, in which we refuse to identify people by race at all. I have numerous entries in my journal about my weekly basketball game in the city's west end. Among the regulars is one black guy, Mike. Everyone else is white or "Asian" or some combination of the two, and four of these people are also named Mike. So calling any of the Mikes by first name is useless: Instead we have Tall Mike, Bearded Mike, and so on. But Black Mike is never called Black Mike; instead we point at him and say, "I'm covering that guy."
It would be very easy to distinguish Mike by race, but we (and I'm including myself here) resist doing it, seemingly ignoring the fact that Mike is black altogether. Because of prejudices of which we're all aware, we must feel that by defining Mike as "black" we are heaping upon him a lot of race-specific assumptions - mind you, I'm sure we're also guilty of entertaining these as well - or ignoring him as an individual, although practicality would dictate "black" is the easiest way of describing him. In a roomful of Pashas, I'd hope that people would feel comfortable referring to me as the "half-white" one.
Maybe we need a new vocabulary, something without connotation or cultural referents. The words in this non-discriminatory glossary for races would have to be completely without association, so what I'm going to do is have Alphie, my girlfriend's dog, sit on my laptop for a second; whatever arbitrary collection of letters he produces will be - oh, for argument's sake, let's make it the new, non-biased or loaded term for First Nations People.
W43a;'hegor.
There you go.
Debate, don't tolerate
Let's hope that something as insulting and ridiculous as my Racebook site never has to happen, never mind my New Canadian Glossary of Cultural Identity (notwithstanding Alphie's fine work). But I really do think a racism journal isn't such a bad idea. My experience, despite revealing some ugly truths about myself, was totally worth it, and I encourage all Torontonians, whatever their backgrounds, to keep one for a while. It was a great way to recognize the mask of racial tolerance that I wear, and confront some inconvenient thoughts and feelings I'd assumed were the sole territory of neo-Nazis and Confederate-flag-waving rednecks. And, who knows, maybe you're not racist at all; maybe your journal will be empty page after empty page. Good. You're clearly a better person than me.
But for the rest of us, yes: Let's start addressing our prejudices - without irony, without the murky mess of political correctness. Be honest. What we need is less victimization and vilification, and more openness about our real attitudes toward people of cultures diverse from our own. It's very easy to condemn folks like Michael Richards or Aileen Siu, but much more difficult, and potentially helpful, to see something discomfortingly familiar in their examples.
Hopefully, addressing our suppressed racism will be impetus for discussion. Regardless, the first step to bridging gaps between people in this city is to start examining the divides between us: What do we really think of one another, honestly, and why? If Canadians - especially Torontonians - are to take anything away from Barack Obama's "A More Perfect Union" speech, it should be an awareness of the dangers inherent to suppressing these discussions. In the senator's words, "If we simply retreat into our respective corners, we will never be able to come together." Let's start to talk about things rather than hide behind the easy veil of silent cohabitation, and, above all, do away with the concept of "racial tolerance." I don't want to simply tolerate people of other cultures. I want to get past superficial acceptance and work together to make Toronto a truly multicultural place of which we can all be proud.
Hopefully addressing our suppressed racism will become impetus for discussion. Regardless, the first step to bridging gaps between people in this city is to start examining the divides between us: What do we really think of one another, honestly, and why? Then, hopefully, we'll start to talk about things rather than hide behind the easy veil of tolerant, albeit silent, cohabitation, and, above all, do away with the concept of "racial tolerance." I don't want to simply tolerate people of other cultures. As cheesy as it may sound, I want to get past superficial acceptance and work together to make Toronto a truly multicultural place of which we can all be proud.
Pasha Malla's collection of short stories, The Withdrawal Method, will be published in May by House of Anansi Press.
Special to The Globe and Mail