How many relationships am I going to have to remove myself from because of the colour of my skin?
Hello, I hope you’re well. It’s been a while! 2020 has been quite the write-off, and unfortunately the lack of social interaction meant a lack of inspiration, hence my disappearance. If you’re reading this, thank you, and if you’ve messaged me or spoken to me about my writing recently, thank you even more (because I was losing the will a bit, I’ll be honest – turns out I just needed some encouragement)!
Firstly, a little bit of housekeeping:
1) I truly hope lockdown 2.0 isn’t driving you insane – please reach out for help if you need it. Also, please check on your friends. People don’t always ask for help when they need it. It’s easy to say you’re okay but incredibly difficult to say you’re not.
2) I’m not saying this just to plug myself, but if you haven’t read these two posts, I’d really encourage you to. Racism is something I’m only just starting to get comfortable talking about and these should provide some background to a few of the things I’ve addressed in this current post.
– an honest chat about everyday racism
– you don’t think I’m pretty, you think I’m pretty for a brown girl
3) this one’s a bit lengthy, I won’t lie – so grab yourself a cup of tea/coffee/lemonade/fruit shoot and get comfy…
Right, let’s talk about it – the effects of internalised racism on relationships. An incredibly deep topic and one I’m only just starting to learn about myself, but one that needs to be addressed. Recently, someone was telling me a story about a family member and it got me thinking about how racism plays a role in the formation of new relationships. Honestly, I forgot this even happened until today so I can’t remember the actual basis of the story, but the sentence that stuck with me was:
“He’s really racist, like, really really racist – he would hate you” followed by an awkward laugh, then into the story. I laughed it off (because what else am I supposed to do in such an awkward situation?) but I remember thinking, “am I sure that I want to keep spending time with someone whose family would hate me for my skin colour?”. It felt like a bit of a dead end. Granted, the person I was actually speaking to wasn’t racist, but all I could think about was me being an inconvenience to them further down the line. Would the family member hate them too, purely for spending time with me? Judging by the description, probably. The obvious solution is to remove myself as early as possible to prevent the damage, but how many relationships am I going to have to remove myself from because of the colour of my skin?
Being anti-racist in the world of any relationship is hard. Getting to know someone without accidentally putting a foot wrong is nearly impossible (cue the dreaded “no, where are you actually from?”), so how can we form relationships as an actual ally to the anti-racism movement? The fact is, this is a HUGE topic. In this post I’ve only touched on a few themes, mainly:
- the role of unconscious bias, particularly in dating apps
- what we can do to dismantle unconscious bias in ourselves and the people around us
Anyone who knows me at all will know that I hate the thought of dating apps – Tinder is my worst nightmare and if you ever catch me on there, know that I’ve lost the plot. Although my opinion on dating apps was already not great to begin with, I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw that some dating apps had an ethnicity filter. Thanks to the BLM movement, some of these filters were removed – Grindr announced its removal of the ethnicity filter in June 2020, followed by Scruff making the same move. Grindr existed for eleven years before this happened. However, apps like Hinge and Match have opted to continue with the ethnicity filter.
I read about a mixed race girl (half Tamil, half Irish) who entered “other” as her ethnicity on Hinge, with ethnicity being a mandatory field with no mixed race option. She ended up on a date with a guy who said he “doesn’t date Tamil girls” and had actually filtered out Asians. The fact that she put “other” meant that she slipped through the cracks. Whilst the team at Hinge argue that removing the ethnicity filter would disempower ethnic minorities who are searching for other ethnic minorities, the bigger issue is the effects of the filter on the self-esteem of those who are obviously being filtered out. I had literal tears reading about the use of a “dealbreaker” feature on Hinge with regards to ethnicities. For example, a Hinge user who only wants white people to appear in their feed can select for this, and make it a “dealbreaker” if not. Absolutely horrid. The fact that it’s an option, whether it’s used or not, implies that such racial bias is okay. It’s not.
A 2014 study found that racial bias does play a part in the use of dating apps. 80% of White dating app users only messaged other White users, and only 3% of all messages from White users went to Black users. Black users were 10 times more likely to reach out to a Black person than a white user.
My views aside, think about the impacts of the apps you’re involved with. If you’re not filtering out particular groups, good for you, but you’re still supporting a platform which has allowed for racial bias.
We’re at a point where “unconscious bias” is treated like a trendy buzzword – but are we actually aware of the prejudices that we carry around every day without even realising it? Think about right-handedness; society is unconsciously biased towards those who are right-handed. Scissors, knives, apps and instruments are designed with right-handers in mind. When YouTube first introduced its video upload feature on mobile phones in 2012, 5-10% of videos were uploaded upside down. The developers were unable to find the problem for a while, until the realisation that everyone in the development team was right-handed, so no one thought about the fact that left-handed users pick up their phone differently to right-handed users. This is an example of unconscious bias towards right-handed people. In a world where right-handedness is the default, white people are also the default.
I get it, it’s incredibly difficult to talk about race, particularly with the people closest to you. In terms of romantic relationships, I need to think about whether a White person is even comfortable being with someone who looks like me and has a culture like me. I think the key is to be with someone who is open to learning and putting aside whatever views they grew up around. Because I can’t ever be truly vulnerable with someone who isn’t willing to examine their own biases. Black and brown people are doing an awful lot of heavy-lifting in terms of educating white people on racism, particularly in 2020, so take the time to do a bit of the learning on your own. Don’t rely on the BAME community to educate the White community on the effects of a system that was created by white people.
God forbid I end up with a man whose close family are “really really racist”. Even the thought is terrifying. Hearing the sentence honestly made me feel ashamed and inferior. How much can you forgive someone for the views of someone close to them? How much can you realistically tolerate? We tend to let the little things slide, but racism is so bold that we’re actually quite blind to it. Society has taught many of us in the BAME community that our validation comes from the love and approval of white people, because white people are the default. The truth is that internalised racism affects absolutely everything – I’m very likely to be paid less than my White colleagues, I’m less likely to get a job in a leadership role and frankly, a lot of the time, I just don’t fit in.
Not engaging in the conversation makes you just as bad as your racist uncle. Tear down the views of the racist family member. Tell them they are wrong, I know it’s awkward. Embrace the discomfort and dismantle the racism from your side. Don’t make it my job to run away just to keep the peace.
Interracial relationships, whether platonic or romantic, do work, but it is reliant on people calling out the behaviour of others. I can’t personally fight the thoughts of someone that I don’t know, but if it’s someone you’re having a takeaway with on a Friday night, I reckon you can talk about it. I hate to break it to you, but posting a black square isn’t enough.
If you’ve read this far, thank you – you’re a trooper! Hope your tea/coffee/lemonade/fruit shoot lasted through the whole post. As always, please do send me your thoughts (even if it’s just to tell me you read it but hated it!) and share this far and wide – we aren’t talking about these things enough but we can change them one step at a time.
Some more blog posts:
Thivya K 
2 thoughts on ““He’s really racist… he would hate you”: internalised racism and its effect on relationships”