Countless friendships have been ruined by circumstances of life, like distance and death. Many engagements have also been broken because routines wash away the intimacy between us and our loved ones. In other words, it has become normal for us to lose a friend or a lover from now and then. But, when does it become normal to lose ourselves? When does it become natural to look at ourselves in the mirror and not feel any affection?
I was around thirteen-years-old when it happened to me. I was as healthy and comfortable as ever. I disgusted myself not because of the way I looked or what others thought of me, but because of what I thought about others because of the way they looked. I sickened myself because I was a racist and had not realized it in thirteen years!
I was a racist and the fact that I was studying History, Science and Philosophy only increased my shame. It meant my racism was not just theoretical but physical. It was the cruel type of racism that condemns the strange simply because of its alien origin.
Before acknowledging the racism that was corroding my humanity, I had naively thought that racism among people of my generation was a vice sprung from ignorance. Now, racism is "not allowed" in schools. I assumed, therefore, that the only people who could become racist were those who, for lack of educational opportunities, are unaware of "the facts."
I thought that those who enjoy a good education could not be racists because we know too well the disastrous consequences that racism has brought throughout history. We advocate for refugees and automatically assume that we have realized what it means to be Jewish and Muslim thanks to the principles we study. Now, we even have scientific evidence that demonstrates that all human beings have the same potential to be significant. We know that our intelligence and moral qualities were not influenced by genetics. We know that we all have the same chances of success despite our physical and cultural environment. Because we know this, there is no excuse for our injustice.
I still try to figure out when it was that I became part of that group of annihilators who use their privileges as weapons to destroy dreams. Rationale told me that the fear of the unknown belonged to crumbling neighborhoods, that my inexplicable resentment towards strangers belonged to other races. When did the sloppy comments on social media induce me to think that other immigrants are a threat to my stability? When did the war against terrorism convince me that every Muslim is a potential terrorist?
I know now that it was at that time, when asked myself all those questions, that I became a racist. My mistake had been to think that there are people whose racism is justified. My mistake had been to believe that I was exempted from from racism because of my heritage. My mistake had been to forget about our history and to remain silent.
For far too many years, I witnessed discrimination without saying a word. I could only go as far as to hope to say something that would change the minds of the aggressors. I apologize now to anyone whom I left unprotected. I beg your pardon because my silence was as cruel as the racist who deprived you of your dignity... In my defense, I can tell you that I have changed. I now use my voice to denounce racism.
