Is Australia racist?

Is Australia racist?

If you asked your average Joe down the street, they would most probably say “no”. They would acknowledge that racism exists but only in a minority of people whose education or socialisation has somehow been faulty.

It also depends on where your average Joe lives. Is it a country town in Queensland or Canterbury in Sydney? They are two very different worlds, exposed to very different cultures, resulting in very different perspectives.

Then you have to narrow down what kind of racism are we even talking about. The genocide of thousands of Aboriginal people? Attitudes towards “boat people“? The man who hasn’t learnt English yet and frustrates you every time you try to pay for your petrol? The more typically “American” black-and-white skin colour racism? 

I have always strongly believed Australia was not racist.

I grew up in country Queensland and my Anglo-Saxon parents never gave me reason to judge anyone by their skin colour. They loved people and, if anything, they seemed drawn to the neighbours with the darker shade of skin or the unique cooking odours. There was one Asian girl in my entire high school and she was my best friend.

I’ve always passionately defended the Aussie reputation that we aren’t racist. There had been a few occasions where black women were openly racist towards me. No amount of fake tan could help. It only strengthened my perception that there was more hypocrisy in the racism debate than a genuine grievance.

However, I have come to realise that my experience of embracing all cultures, colours and living in unity was not common. I was an idealistic, rural, middle-class white girl with no idea what life would really be like for a black person born in Australia.

Then I married one.

My husband was born in Brisbane and completed his high school education in country NSW. He’s just another Aussie country boy. The only differences, perhaps due to his Jamaican heritage, are that he can dance, play five instruments and cook a mean feast!

I used to think it was just bad luck that my husband was pulled over so many times by the police for no noticeable offence. It was always a “random check”. Is it so hard to believe a young black man can drive a nice car? No, it’s not stolen.

As I’ve watched my husband climb the corporate ladder alongside more white collared (and white coloured) business men, I see more and more racism. He has a university degree, multiple business accolades and a second language and yet, even at a recent business breakfast that I attended, he was treated differently to others at the table.

I always try to see the best in a situation and it takes a lot for me to conclude that what I was seeing was nothing more than racism. I simply couldn’t rationalise it any other way – and I tried. I mean, we would all like to think that there are logical ways to overcome disadvantage – to find the least lines of resistance when it comes to corporate politics. Racism is something that is so embedded, it cannot be easily scrubbed off by a comment or even a conversation.

In fact, it took every ounce of my self-control to not stand up and put my boxing training on display when I’ve watched a white man who is less experienced, less talented and has fewer social skills be given preference over my husband.

Now you may say, “You’re his wife. Of course you’re biased.” Like racism itself, this argument is not easy to dispel, but I don’t have to because his resume speaks for itself. Above all, I am so proud of my husband for his resilience and humanity. He continues to succeed in spite of these setbacks and is completely unfazed by any discrimination.

It’s me who has been rocked by all this, because I have had to re-examine beliefs that were the foundation of my upbringing.

The catalyst for me to even take time to voice this was my experience this morning. I was at our local Westfield with our two small children. My son had dropped his toy car, so I walked a few metres away to pick it up. At that very moment, a dear elderly lady entered the scene and, seeing my two children, rolled her eyes.

“Dear God, where is their mother?” she exclaimed.

“I’m right here,” I said with a smile, returning with the toy car.

She took a moment to look at the kids and look at me, then back to the kids, then back to me.

“Yes they are my children.”

Really, do I have to say this in 2014?

She was visibly offended that our skin colours didn’t quite “match”.  She scowled and left the scene, murmuring under her breath.

I took three deep breaths and kept telling myself to set an example for my kids, take the higher road.

Pointing out these episodes and attitudes can offend people who find it hard to believe that racism could be a default mechanism. I once thought the same. We like to assume everyone is wired for tolerance, until these little tests come along.

But I’m prepared to offend a few people in the hope that it educates others. Recognition is the first step towards change. So here goes – YES, Australia is racist.

Emma Mullings is a mum of two and works as a Radio announcer and TV presenter. She is a fitness lover and journalism graduate who also likes to write music in her spare time….whenever that is!

You can follow Emma Mullings on Twitter at @emmamullings, find her on Facebook here, and visit her website here.