Racism exists in Oz, no doubt about it. The call to expel all Africans because a few are being criminals in Melbourne is a fine example of the ugly face of racism in this country. This very impressive African/Oz woman is subject to such disgraceful treatment quite often, yet she's probably more educated, civilised, decent, empathetic, and an all round better person and contributor to Australia than most extremist right HC posters who want her expelled. The episode of her on the plane out of melbourne is disgraceful.
The reality of racism in Australia
Shannon Murdoch scored 100 per cent on her Australian citizenship. Ask her anything. Flags. Constitutions. Even what the governor-general does. She'll know the answer. In a few weeks, she will be all set to sing
Advance Australia Fair.
But there's one thing she does not know the answer to - and it's this. Why is Australia so racist?
- SHARE
- SHARE ON FACEBOOK SHARE
- SHARE ON TWITTER TWEET
- LINK
Shannon Murdoch and her husband Glen.
Murdoch, 41, is 185cm tall. Won a scholarship to a top US university to play volleyball. Has a PhD in education. She has a demanding job in the community sector. She's got privilege coming at you every which way.
But a few weeks back, she boarded a plane in Melbourne ready to fly back to Brisbane, where she lives with her husband, the man she almost always calls Gorgeous Glen. She boarded early because she's just that organised kind of woman. A couple approached her row to find their seat and took one look at her. And stopped to argue with each other in the aisle of a plane rapidly filling with passengers.
Maybe the cabin crew could find them another seat? Probably not, the flight was going to be busy. Well, I'm not going to sit next to her. Well, I don't want to sit next to her either.
This was all within earshot: "They couldn't have possibly thought I couldn't hear them."
Shannon stared resolutely ahead and pretended she hadn't heard. Sometimes she responds but occasionally it's easier to imagine it hasn't happened. Eventually, the husband sat next to her and pretended she didn't exist, all the way back to Brisbane.
Shannon is black. African-American. One of her grandparents is Native American. From Texas. She says that racism exists in the US, of course, but at least there is a serious and difficult public conversation about it. Black lives matter. And even though, yep, someone will always answer 'all lives matter', that's the beginning of the conversation right there.
DAILY LIFE NEWSLETTER
Get the latest news and updates emailed straight to your inbox.
By submitting your email you are agreeing to Fairfax Media's
terms and conditions and
privacy policy.
But here in Australia, she says that conversation is just beginning. And one of those conversations is with her husband. Glen, 210 centimetres, fair, green eyes, always knew his beloved country was racist but he just did not realise it was so bad. It never happened when he was around. Well, of course it wouldn't.
"It's like he gives me a [free] pass," she says with what would pass for a wry smile if the whole story wasn't heartbreaking to hear.
At first Glen didn't believe it, she says. Didn't want to believe it. Surely episodes like those on the plane were a one-off?
"He had a hard time believing I was being treated this way. But the more it happened the closer it got. It's almost like a fire: the closer you are, the more you feel the heat, the more you feel the flames, the more urgent it is, the more it can touch your life."
It's about the skin I'm in and no matter what you do, you are still always black first.
"A lot of people are warm and kind and generous. And a lot of people aren't. That's the reality. I'm singled out for being black so I don't know what else you would call it. I know racism is such a hard word but there is a level of racism here that makes it uncomfortable to be black."
The big humiliations such as the plane incident occur every few months or so. But there are little things, what Shannon calls micro-aggressions, every day.
Someone will clutch their shoulder bag more tightly. Or lock their door. Pull their kids away. Ignore her. Walk up to her as she browses in a shop and tell her as she examines something that 'you know, you have to pay for that'. Ignore her and make sure she knows she is being ignored.
"I don't understand how you can treat someone as if they are so different to you when it's just skin. At a systematic level, I understand it; at a historic level, I understand it. There are many levels at which I get it. It's not as if I am naïve to the stuff that is behind it. But as person-to-person, I don't know how you walk up to someone and say something so cruel, so demeaning, so dehumanising, that discounts their personhood."
Shannon says that Indigenous Australians are treated much worse.
"It's not my lived experience but from what I see from the outside, it's significantly worse. It's different too because this is their country. I can't imagine it being your home and feeling so unwelcome, so undervalued, so unappreciated, stigmatised. That seems to me so much worse than the experience I have had."
And what of Glen's understanding now?
"Being in a relationship and subsequently married to me brought him to the fire. It wasn't real to him before," she says.
But it's not getting any easier in Australia and sometimes she is worried about what the future here will hold.
"I'm still black. I wonder sometimes if people knew me, would they treat me this way. But the reality is it's not about me, it's about the skin I'm in and no matter what you do, whether you have a PhD, whether you are well-spoken or friendly, you are still always black first.
"I'm black before I'm woman."
