Southern Trees

Once upon a time, I was a small child in Sunday school, learning a song in Swedish about children with all kinds of complexions, eyes and hair who sat in a ring holding hands, becausewe are all sisters and brothers and God made us, every one.

And that was that. My world view was formed,and remains unchanged today.




Sunday school was good for me.Having parents who reinforce the goodness

is equally important, and I was lucky to have those as well.

My father, especially, was very influential in his kind curiosity and great respect towards anyone who was 'different'. I remember him enthusiastically inviting foreigners selling wood etchings door to door to come in for a cup of tea, eagerly trying to keep a conversation going despite multiple language gaps.



I had a black doll as a child; it was just there among the others, nothing to remark upon.I went to my first interracial wedding when I was about eight,and although this was very exotic indeed in my small hometown,I sincerely thought it would be the first of many.



Years later, English literature at university.A whole term devoted to America,we read book after book on slavery and the experiences of African-Americans today.

I'll never forget reading the first linesof the poem Strange Fruit

The poem

(later a beautiful song with Billie Holiday)describes the lynchings of blacks in the American South,the trees from which people were hung.The postcards of such scenes that people sent to each other.



I read more,

learned more.

The Holocaust, colonialism, state-sponsored racism, the Crusades;

the very human tendency

to label, isolate and abuse our fellow man.



I feel prompted to write this today

because I'm concerned.

There is a cold wind blowing.

Especially in this "beautiful, murderous continent" of Europe that I call home,

with so much on its conscience already.

Old demons rearing their ugly heads.



The child that I was, full of righteous courage,

looks at me sternly and asks what I am going to do about it.



Maybe this:

pluck my head out of the sand, out of the comfort zone I built for myself,

and start paying attention.

We could be at a point when silence could again be lethal.

That means we are also at a point

where every simple act of kindness matters more than ever.



This is what I see:I need to understand my own place in this world,in a society largely designed for people of my complexion.It is entirely possible to remain oblivious

to all kinds of prejudice that exists,when most things I see have been arranged with me as the target audience.



When Barack Obama was elected President of the US,

there was a survey that clearly showed the positive impact

that popular TV series 24 had had on the election.Why?Because the previous season had featured a nice, upstanding black man as President.As a result, many people openly admitted, they had been ready to vote for one.



Sometimes, it's the seemingly small things.Entertainment matters,because it feeds our image of the world,in such a subconscious way that we are not aware of it happening.

Also:what they don't show us, we don't see.Enough already with minorities playing sidekicks and providing comic relief;where are the leading ladies and men? And not just in films that specifically deal with issues of race.



On Pinterest, my heart aches

when I see photo albums with names such as

"black beauty", "black/Asian is beautiful" and so on.

Of course it is.

It is the mark of cultural imperialism

that there are no albums named

"beautiful white faces".



That anybody should set a standard to begin with is atrocious.

That skin bleach is sold in lots and lots of countries is atrocious.

That white should still be the norm in a globalizing world is atrocious.



As a white person,

I need to understand this sad dynamic

and do whatever I can to impact it.

Exactly how, I don't know, but I want to try

and keep trying.



I want diversity on my screen and in my life.I want to see the real world reflected,the one I welcomed all those years ago in Sunday school.

The colours, the cultures.

The amazing richness.



And should things get really bad,

should it ever come to having to really make a choice,

I know that it'll be

I think I'll go and sit over there.



|Quotes J. McBride, A. Meeropol, M. Luther King, E. Hillesum|

|Continent-quote: Amos Oz in A Tale of Love and Darkness |

| All images are just a feeble attempt to illustrate a subject very close to my heart |
Full Post