woensdag 3 december 2014

On Mirrors and The World We Live in.

Justice will not be served until those who are unaffected are as outraged as those who are.
-Benjamin Franklin


Before I get to the actual topic of this entry, I need to congratulate a couple of people and get all of the trivial stuff out of the way. Julie, good luck in South Africa. I know you're going to have the time of your life there, and you have no idea how jealous I am right now. Please come visit once every while, and make sure you have a room to accommodate me when I feel like surfing J-Bay.

Jeroen, best of luck with the studies. I hope my letter of recommendation does what it's supposed to do and helps you land the gig, but if you don't, I don't doubt you'll find another way to make your dream of becoming a professional writer a reality. Every setback is a lesson, and given the passion you have for the craft, it would be a lesson you'd take to heart. Although I'm sure you'll get in.

Looks like the trip to the USA will take place early April, because it seems to be the only gap my friends have in their schedules (Wannes will have to start cramming for his exams as well soon after). Because the Red Sox open their season on the road, this means we wouldn't be able to catch a game at Fenway. Which is an absolute disaster. Seriously, how can we go to Boston and leave two days before the Sox play their first home game? I mean, that is some depressing stuff.

Now, before I get started I want to make it very clear what you're about to read is a personal opinion which does not represent the views of my employer (I've always wanted to write those words, it makes things sound so ominous).

My job as a writer sees me spend an awful lot of time on the websites of news outlets and social media, and when big news breaks or massive events take place, it's sometimes hard to escape. The past few weeks have been filled with stories about Michael Brown, Eric Garner and Tugce Albayrak, amid the seemingly endless stream of horrifying news. Michael Brown was a difficult topic I tried to shy away from as much as I could—Tugce Albayrak was a story which hit me so hard it made me want to apologise for my gender. But today's news that the police officer who choked an unarmed man to death using an illegal move banned by the New York police department would not be indicted pushed me over the edge. I just couldn't understand how a man, who was a father, brother and son could die on the streets of New York in broad daylight, and that the man responsible for his death, who ignored multiple pleas to stop (Garner repeatedly told the officers he couldn't breathe) and used excessive force wouldn't even face an indictment. I was angry, and when I was forced to read a stream of comments from people justifying the officer's action because Garner resisted arrest, I became mortified. Regardless of whether or not he resisted arrest, no one deserves to die in such fashion, right? How can people not see that?

Unfortunately, this is the world I live in. This is a world where millions of children are persecuted every day because of the colour of their skin, the religion their parents chose for them or the geographical location they were born. Where millions of children suffer from malnutrition, illness and a lack of education. Where women still earn less than men for equal work because they were born with a uterus. Where homosexual men and women have to face the consequences of their love for someone of the same gender because they don't comply with what a certain part of society deems "normal" or "acceptable." Where the city of Antwerp wants to have people who own night shops pay so much taxes they'll soon disappear altogether, because "night shops don't look great on the streets." Where racial stereotypes used to amuse children aren't even open for discussion based on "tradition." Where a football team can carry a name repulsive to Native Americans because it has done so far the past 80 years.

I'm lucky. I'm a 25-year-old heterosexual male of European descent, raised in an Christian household that turned away from religion when I was 12. I am in reasonable health, don't show any signs of obesity and I'm not a complete idiot. I won the biological lottery, as did most of my readers.

Plenty of people like me will take to the internet and tell me white guilt is something I shouldn't worry about. I didn't choose to be born like this, I've never done anything at the expense of other people and it's not my fault other people suffer. All of this is true.

But we live in a selfish world, where the powerful don't give two cents about the fates of others and won't lift a finger to change the status-quo if it comes at their own expense. And we are the powerful. People just like you and me. Like it or not, but even as we're set to enter the year 2015, the world is still engineered toward us, the white, middle-class self-proclaimed intellectuals who likely all had the opportunity to pursue higher education, will undoubtedly find a job that will allow us to live comfortable lives (I never said we'll get rich, or even enjoy our jobs) and will never have to worry about the real problems that plague millions around the world, barring major health problems.

Should we feel any guilt about this? Is there something we can do? I honestly don't know. As angry as I am, I was conditioned to believe I'm only a small, insignificant part of this world, incapable of making a difference. And after everything I just said, the logical thing to do would be to rejoice in the current status-quo—I'm going to be just fine. I don't want to be that person, but when I read what some people just like me dare to say or write on the topic, it makes me sick to my stomach. And then I start to wonder if I'm not just like them. Is enabling sexism or racism not the same as being sexist or racist?

I'm not here to preach to you, or ask you to go stand on the corner of the street holding a sign while three men in riot gear move in with tasers. But what I'm asking you to do is take a look in the mirror.
Not right now—the next time you're feeling down because your boss yelled at you or made you work overtime, or when you missed the train because that idiot in the BMW wouldn't let you cross the street. Look in the mirror, and realise just how lucky you are. How completely and utterly insignificant your problems are compared to millions and millions of people around the globe.

I'm always finding reasons to be sad, and convincing myself my life is wretched and hopeless. I'm not a happy person, not in the slightest. And that's just fine—I don't have to be. But I'm starting to realise I am incredibly lucky. I have a biological head-start over so many people and tools at my disposal some never will. And it's not my good looks, or height, or intelligence—it's the colour of my skin, my sexual orientation and (lack of) religion (and gender, to a lesser extent). I can't think of anything more unfair in this world, but I also can't think of any way to change that.

The next time you're feeling down, for whatever reason, please try to remember you're just as lucky as I am. We all won the lottery. You and I won't be the next Michael Brown or Nic Garner (and I really hope you won't be the next Tugce Albayrak). Even if you and I are just the next Average Joe, leading perfectly normal, boring, miserable lives, we'll still be gifted more than millions of people.

I'll be working on a follow-up to this post, as I try and find a way in which I can make a difference, as minute and insignificant it may be. In the meantime, I guess this will have to be the message I leave you with. In this unfair world, you and are part of the lucky few who were given so much more than the rest. If you can't make a difference, at least try to enjoy it. You'd be doing so many people a disservice by not doing so.


Song of the Day: Tom Waits - Come on Up to the House

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