Intentional or not, racism is still wrong
In the wake of incidents of abuse at Canterbury rugby grounds, JALE MOALA relates his experience of racism in Christchurch.
I have often explained to my children and friends that racism does not define New Zealand or New Zealanders, that there are more good people in this country than bad, that Kiwis are friendly, compassionate, caring and accommodating, and that no matter where you go in the world you are bound to come across idiots who know no better.
In 2000 my wife and I staged our great Fijian escape. We left our jobs, home, friends and family and moved our children to New Zealand for a better life and to be away from Fiji’s political upheavals.
We also left behind the threat of violence, crime and a government held hostage by a bunch of terrorists led by a failed businessman called George Speight.
We settled first in Invercargill, the coldest place on Earth as far as we were concerned, but there we also experienced great warmth, kindness and hospitality.
Invercargill was, and probably still is, a white middle-class community. Everyone on our street knew we were different but in our first few months there, as we struggled with the climate and the culture, it was not uncommon to come home and see food, fruit and clothes on the doorstep, left there by people who knew we had come from far away. I also made some best friends in Invercargill, mostly Pakeha, and if there is ever a place in New Zealand I can call home it is there.
In 2003, we moved to Christchurch, and although we had been warned we were still surprised by the level of racism we witnessed.
It is true that racism is inevitable in a country like New Zealand where one culture is so dominant, but that is no excuse for the level of intolerance and hostility people of colour face on a regular basis. While in Invercargill, the fact that we were different brought people to our door; in Christchurch it was what set us apart from the rest.
Only as recent as last June, a man as young as my oldest son called me a ‘‘thieving nigger’’ because he assumed I was stealing from a predominantly white neighbourhood where my wife and I had gone to pick up a pair of metal gates we had bought on Trade Me.
Racism is everywhere, but as we have seen in the recent examples that have attracted public attention nationwide, people of colour deal with the pain of racism with humility and dignity. Certainly the common response has been to walk away and suffer in silence.
I have often explained to my children and friends that racism does not define New Zealand or New Zealanders, that there are more good people in this country than bad, that Kiwis are friendly, compassionate, caring and accommodating and that no matter where you go in the world you are bound to come across idiots who know no better.
It is a statement of fact but it is also a feeble attempt on my part to make people feel better about their predicament.
It is difficult to understand why people become racist. Is it insecurity? Is it fear? One answer may lie in trying to understand racism as a learned behaviour, the outcome of environment and poor upbringing, because children can’t have been born with racial prejudices, or any prejudice for that matter.
I accept the fact that not all people who do or say racist things are themselves racist people, it is just the way they have learned to behave within the structures of the community in which they exist.
But no matter how you practise racism, whether intentionally or unintentionally, it is still wrong. No one can explain the feeling of helplessness and loss racism can cause until you yourself have become a victim of racial abuse.
It strips you of your self-worth and self-esteem. It does not always make you angry; rather it makes you want to crawl into a hole and disappear.
Is racism institutionalised in this country? Yes it is, and some work is being done and a lot more work needs to be done to train those who serve in the public service, like police, social services and health, to be culturally competent and aware.
Only then can we avoid the situation my son, who was 14 at the time, and his Maori friend faced when taking old tyres to the dump. Police stopped them on the way and while my son and his friend tried to explain what they were doing, the officer’s response was to the point: ‘‘I know your kind.’’
What exactly does that mean? That because of his skin colour my son is a bad kid? Does it matter that he comes from a good home, goes to school, has a loving family, that his parents own their own home, have full-time jobs, and send their children to university?
Yes, it should matter because those things make us just like everyone else, no matter the colour of our skin or the way we speak. Yet it has been too easy for people to say nasty things to people of colour just because they feel they can; some with the intention to hurt and others simply because it is easy to do so.
The case of Fijian rugby player Sakenasa Aca has highlighted again New Zealand’s race relations issues and the debate that needs to happen if we are to fully benefit from the growing richness of our cultural diversity.
As Pasifika people, we are called FOBs (fresh off the boat), coconuts, thick, lazy, fat, thin, dumb, stupid, fat nose, etc.
Despite all the name-calling and nastiness, Pasifika people still contribute to the communities we live in, whether that contribution is in religion, business, law, medicine, education, media, IT, management, or on the sports field, in the freezing works, dairy farms, or in rest homes.
Former Christchurch mayor Bob Parker said, when opening Polyfest some years back, that we should be proud of who we are, not only because we are often prepared to ‘‘do some of the hardest work for some of the lowest pay’’ but also because of the other important things that make us special, like our family values, our community spirit, our kindness and our hospitality.
Most of all, he said, we must remember that New Zealand is not only our home now. It also our country.