This victim culture is wrong – and so damaging
When I was nine years old and queuing for lunch at school one day, a black boy in the year above me suddenly turned around and called me a ‘chocolate bar’.
I looked at my beige-coloured skin in confusion. I thought ‘But I’m not as dark as chocolate – why would he say that?’ When I pointed out that he was in fact darker than me he accused me of being racist!
I grew up in the mill town of Oldham in Greater Manchester, which is still largely segregated along racial lines. My family, of a Pakistani-Kashmiri background, lived in a white area and my primary school had only a handful of Asian or black children.
Though most of my friends were white, I did experience racism – occasionally being called a ‘Paki’ in the playground. At secondary school there were more Asian children so there were no such name-calling or chants. But I was once beaten up by white teenagers at a bus stop who targeted me purely because of my ethnicity.
now, at the age of 33, I rarely think of these incidents. In fact, I have never dwelt on them because if I did, I wouldn’t see myself as anything but a victim. I also know from family experience just how far this country has come in terms of tolerance and respect when compared with the experiences of my mother’s generation. It was they who faced real racism in the 1970s and 80s when my mother remembers being insulted as a matter of routine in the streets and at school.
My uncle, incensed about complaints from the ‘ woke’ crowd who insist racism is rife here, tells me that my generation ‘just don’t know you’re born...You didn’t have to arm yourselves with weapons on the street in case you were attacked by a skinhead. We suffered so you didn’t have to.’
Yet certain groups and activists do not seem to understand how much Britain has changed, persisting in their claim that it is a country rigged against ethnic minorities. Indeed, the findings of the Commission on Race and ethnic Disparities is being described as a ‘ whitewash’, because it found no evidence of
Britain being institutionally racist. I have no doubt that racism exists – because we humans will always show prejudice in one way or another.
But it is not only white individuals who are guilty of this. As my experience in the lunch queue showed, inter-ethnic racism is real and rarely discussed. Kashmiris are often seen as ‘low class’ by Punjabis, for example, and certain Pakistanis will look down on Bengalis because they are often darker-skinned.
In fact, the very last time someone called me a ‘Paki’ was when I was 18 – it was a Bengali boy who said it, not a white one. Of course, there are socio-economic inequalities within all these groups. Indian and Chinese students continue to have the highest achievements compared with black Caribbean and Pakistani children. And yet they are all lumped into the ‘BAME’ category although they certainly don’t see themselves as one collective group.
This demonstrates how, rather than racist, Britain is still divided by class and there are still barriers that people from a poorer background will face.
I’ve never felt my ethnicity was a barrier in my career as a journalist. If I ever considered that I didn’t ‘fit in’, then it was usually due to what I perceived as ‘class’ – the fact that I didn’t go to a private school or to Oxbridge like many who work in the media. In my view, there is a reason why so many people from around the world risk their lives to come to the UK. It’s because we are largely a tolerant and welcoming society and opportunity exists here.
Where else would the sons of two Pakistani bus drivers – Sajid Javid and Sadiq Khan – go on to become Chancellor and Mayor of London? That would not have been possible in their parents’ homeland where inequalities between the rich and poor are so entrenched. While there are real obstacles to achieving equality, there are practical ways our country can overcome them.
But not if we continue to believe in this narrative that says the deck is permanently stacked against ethnic minorities.