Can’t We All Just Get Along??
There were two perspectives I came from as I read “Kaffir Boy”:
#1- Professionally, as a therapist, understanding the emotionally damaging effects of living in an oppressive state and the power of compassion.
#2- Personally, viewing my first experiences of overt discrimination and my ethnic friendships.
#1- Professionally, understanding the effects …
To live in such a state of desperation, where the basic needs of food, shelter, and clothing aren’t met, plus the relational and emotional security needs are going unmet, all the while struggling to ward off a variety of oppressors, is an unfathomable quality of life. Emotionally and mentally, the effects of trying to live without one’s physical safety needs and emotional security needs met create a hyperarousal state of living that wears a soul out. On-going effects of this create neurological and biological damage that can only heal through meeting the basic needs and calming down the amygdala through compassionate care. To live in such a state of survival is exhausting and provokes neuro damage, depression, anxiety, and PTSD, which literally creates black holes in the brain. The intensity of such a state of living often provokes suicidal ideation because the strain of surviving becomes too great. Compassionate care provides the antidote for an individual to settle down, calm the brain and body so they can grow, develop and overcome.
This was dramatically displayed by Mark Mathobane, who struggled to live each day. I marveled at his ability to learn in school despite starvation, malnutrition, poverty, cold, abuse, and lack of supplies. His intelligence and ability to learn despite these and many other oppressors was impressive and awe-inspiring. His empathy for others’ pain, inquisitiveness, insatiable curiosity, and understanding of life was more evidence of his high intelligence, and I marveled at his resilience. Yet, it was not surprising that he contemplated suicide at such a young age. He had very little oasis or safe haven that is required to provide a reprieve from the constant atrocities and trauma he experienced. His mother was his saving grace, as she provided the comfort, love, and care as best she could while trying to survive herself and birth babies. Unfortunately, his father became victimized by the system and was unable to express the same resiliency as his son, as he also mirrored the abusive behavior of his oppressors to his family. The terror within and without the home must have been exhausting and traumatic, for it was emotionally challenging as the reader to hear his harrowing experiences recounted in such detail.
#2- Personally, discrimination and ethnic friends…
Growing up in southern California felt like a melting pot of many ethnicities. As far back as I can remember, my best friends were never my ethnicity, except for one girl in high-school, ironically named Jennifer. My very first friends were an Indian girl, Fabia, a Paraguayan girl, Kathleen, and a Chinese girl Martha Lin. All of them were bilingual and spoke excellent English, as well as their native tongue, and were fascinating to befriend. They taught me about their religions, different foods, and rituals. As I grew, I had many close friends who were Hispanic, Filipino, Dutch, British and more, and I marveled at their cultures as we forged deep friendships. I never really knew what it meant to live exclusively in my ethnicity until I moved to the Northwest to a conservative and segregated community where discrimination was still tragically more alive than I realized, as evidenced by two shocking experiences. I remember attending my church activity and some visiting men said to one another, as they gestured towards a beloved African American couple in our church, “What are those n—— doing here?” I was stunned and shocked, thinking my ears had betrayed me, for I had never experienced this kind of overt and contemptuous behavior before, much less in a church. They defiantly and unabashedly returned my shocked stare as if they were entitled to view another human being this way. As the shock subsided, I felt the rage boil up in me at the appalling disrespect and open contempt of my dear friends. That was the moment I realized I was not “home”, and I missed the comfortable acceptance of various ethnicities in California cohabitating together.
Secondly, the area I reside in is known for developing the nuclear bomb dropped on Hiroshima that ended World War II. Richland High School, where my kids attend, has made national news due to their highly disputed mascot: “the Bombers”. Unbeknownst to me, the history still haunts the high school today. I treated a Richland High School student for depression and anxiety who was half Japanese and half Caucasian. She related frequent stories of harassment by the students, who called her derogatory terms like “Jap”, as they bullied her regularly. Again, I was shocked and appalled at this discriminatory spirit that was alien to me. It was no surprise her depression and anxiety subsided when she moved to Seattle for college.
The ugliness of discrimination and promoting a certain class, race, or gender above another takes an enormous amount of energy, laws, and resources to maintain, and creates insurmountable damage that we all suffer from. Professionally and personally, I find it easier and more rewarding to put my energies into loving, accepting, and compromising with those different than me, as I learn from them and strive to create a community of unity.
About the Author
Jennifer Dean-Hill
7 responses to “Can’t We All Just Get Along??”
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Jennifer
A nice story reflecting on your personal experience facing racial comments.
It amazes me that this stereotyping is carried through the new generation. It a learned behavior.
Jen, thank you for your professional explanation of the damaging effects of not only poverty, but helplessness, hopelessness, discrimination, etc.
One of the things in the book I found myself doing was trying to sympathize with the gangs, the Tsotsis, and Johannes’ father. It would be easy to compare Mark to those “bad guys” and say why couldn’t they all just suck it up and be good. But that is what hopelessness does to people; that is why it is so cruel of the oppressors (who then expect the oppressed to be obedient).
Your story about the bigots’ remark at church reminds us that white supremacy is still alive and kicking in the Pacific Northwest. We have felt it against our ‘colored’ adopted kids. It’s so sad.
Very insightful and helpful post; thanks, Jen.
Jen thank you for your transparency and personal reflections. Yes it is a horrifying reality that racism and discrimination still exist in our country and even in our faith communities. I agree with you when you stated “The ugliness of discrimination and promoting a certain class, race, or gender above another takes an enormous amount of energy, laws, and resources to maintain, and creates insurmountable damage that we all suffer from.” Unfortunately, we live daily in the insurmountable damage so much so that it can feel normal or ok. Despite the familiarity of it all, we all do suffer!
Thank you for these perspectives Jennifer. As our resident shrink, I always appreciate your views on the material we are reading and engaging with from a psychological viewpoint. You emphasize well our basic need for love and acceptance and how important it is for us to give and receive such love.
Jennifer, I am so grateful for your clinical perspective. Your explanations regarding the trauma of Mathabane and his family were easily traced in the story. I agree that Mark’s mother is rather the unsung hero of this story. Her love and defiant hope in the face of all of the terrors of life helped to trace a path for Mark to follow away from perpetual rage toward hope.
Your professional descriptions are so enlightening, Jennifer– I’m so thankful to have your voice in the Sevens!
The description of your childhood in SoCal reminds me of my boys’ experience– each of my youngest son’s seven closest friends was either from a different ethnic or country, or a different religion (Vietnamese, Chinese, Indian, white American, Jewish, Filipino). Similarly, my older son’s friends included friends of different ethnicities, religions and gender identities. I loved the richness of these friendships and what it taught them about their similarities and respecting each other’s differences. Likewise, I recognize that moving to the midwest, we will be faced with some of the realities you experienced moving to the NW.
Jennifer,
Thanks so much for this great perspective – or perspectives! – it is, while not surprising, truly heartbreaking how we so quickly resort to denigrating our differences instead of celebrating them.
Why are we so quick to draw circles of belonging that define those that are different in one way or another as ‘other’ or ‘outside’?