The Cry for Change
May 30, 2020
Hey y’all, today’s post is a little bit more on the somber note. Normally when my posts are about the grim current events, I tell you it is okay to skip the post. But I hope you do not skip this one. While it is grim, and above all else I want you to take care of your mental health, this is one of those beasts we need to face head on.
This week, a horrific video circulated around the world showing the brutal killing of George Floyd. The reaction is something that could no longer stay silent. An innocent black man was choked to death. An officer pressed his knee down on his neck for nine minutes, only stopping when the victim was dead. Protests demanding justice have been happening across the country! People of all types, abilities, and statuses have been standing in solidarity, crying out for change.
Now, for those of you who have been following this blog, I upload a month after it is written. That means, the earliest you will be reading this post is June 30th. I thought about pushing back this week’s post (which is Traits of My Perfect Husband) and uploading this in real time. But then I decided against it. The type of political action and reformation that needs to happen will not be done in one month. If, at the time you are reading this, George Floyd’s death is no longer a relevant topic or there are not steps being taken to end systemic racism, then what was the point? That tells me that the fervor I am seeing across all sorts of media was simply a façade and something in the heat of the moment because it has been forgotten just thirty-two days later. I really hope that is not the case.
One of the things I have noticed people asking is how they can use their platform to further the cause of the Black Lives Matter movement. The response I see most often is to talk about the problems through the lens of your platform. My platform is about all the things that no one talks about before getting married. I know my audience is not large, it only extends to you the readers, but it is a platform nonetheless.
This week, I finally got around to watching The Lovebirds on Netflix. I had been seeing commercials for it for some time and it looked like it might be interesting to watch. I will not talk too much about the plot for anyone who has not watched it yet. Basically, a couple goes on this crazy adventure that started because of an accident. If you have not seen the ads for this movie, you might think this is a rom-com with a white couple as the leads. Well, you would only be half correct. The leads are actually Issa Rae and Kumail Nanjiani.
Within the first thirty seconds of this movie (you know, after the forty seconds of production logos) I had two thoughts. My first thought was, “who is this goddess? What are her other works? I need to add those to my list!” I was awestruck by the beauty that is Issa Rae. The second thought was, “how did Kumail’s parents feel about him dating a black girl in a movie?”
As soon as I thought this, I caught myself. This was not some sarcastic or rhetorical question I had. Why was this a legitimate question I thought? The answer, “because this was the way I was raised,” is not a good enough answer. Growing up Malayalee, one thing was abundantly clear: everyone is not equal. Racism, colorism, and classism are part of our social education, just as much as standing up when an elder walks into a room or not walking over someone’s feet.
Racism is taught when, watching a Tamil music video, an uncle comments, “why can’t they have any good looking people? It’s always these Paandis.” While the term “Paandi” refers to people of the Paandi Dynasty (which ruled most of south India), it is a racial slur referring to low class/caste/status Tamils in this context.
Colorism is taught when an aunty passively says, “Lucy is the more attractive sister.” What that aunty did not say was that while Lucy’s sister is taller, has more defined facial structure, and a better complexion, Lucy is light-skinned while her sister is dark-skinned. Therefore, every other metric is ignored.
Classism is taught when my aunt told me to go wash my hand after I shook the hand of a worker on my grandfather’s farm. This was pre-Covid. She was disgusted at the sight of an elderly working-class man holding the hand of his employer’s granddaughter.
As you might have guessed, these are all incidents that I witnessed or was a part of. And these were not isolated instances either. They are threads in twenty-six years of learned cultural behavior. But these threads are taken from a tapestry that extends hundreds of years.
But what do these stories have anything to do with the turbulence going on here in America? Well, everything! Is it not hypocritical to call out the injustices we see here and turn a blind eye towards the same injustices happening in our own communities? How is it progress if we demand reformation in our communities, but ignore the cries of Blacks here? Their problems are also ours. We have to stand together against the institutions that separate us. The shade of my skin, my capacity to absorb sunlight, should not be a determining factor on my skills, capability, or value. If it should not be for me, then it should not be for anyone else.
Before I sign off, here are some resources you might find useful to learn more about systemic racism in the US and some action items you can do. This is up-to-date as of June 30th. See you all next week.
Financial Donation
Petitions
Resources
- Aemi
