I just joined Tumblr, which I discover is a network of blog sites, so perhaps this blog will find new followers there!! Within a very short time I discover I have missed the opportunity to wear purple this month, on the 17th to be precise, in solidarity with LGBTQ (I have considered the possibility that this stands for Lesbian, Gay, Benders, Tarts, and Queers, but probably not). I would have worn purple, if I had any, as I’m only ever surprised to hear that there are still issues to settle for the comfort of people who are, in one way or another, out of the ordinary. If they are not ordinary they’re certainly familiar by now. I would prefer to think the B stands for Black, but then is the T for Tan, which wouldn’t work so well in Ireland.
Discrimination against the sexually different is absurd enough, as if you could give a damn what someone else does in bed with a friend (or friends), but the discrimination against people because their colour is locally unusual is much worse. At least there is a general acceptance that gay people are potentially bright, useful, active members of society, if a bit weird, but blacks, which by common acceptance, means here anyone of non-European descent, are often assumed to be stupid, lazy, irresponsible, all sorts of things which may be true of some members of society, but the people who are in that benighted corner of humanity aren’t all black nor are all blacks among them.
I’ve never understood sexism or racism. I was lucky in my upbringing. I was often in Africa as a child and my mother was utterly bereft of any sort of racial prejudice, though her social prejudices were as firm as granite. But she could cut across all sectors, all classes and races, and even once spent some minutes talking to a Nigerian acquaintance while mistaking her for a German colleague of my father’s.
And as it happens, she was a tough mother who had four sons so she brought us all up with the womanly skills, cooking, sewing, housekeeping and so on, and as a result, I’ve only ever thought of women as my equals, if not my superiors. I never understand why they marry men (except they love us so dearly), as clearly we get the most benefit of support from the arrangement. At best, we provide the money and some of the hands-on work needed for bringing up a family, and we bring in the money (and nowadays, not all of that, and sometimes none, I guess). They make the home and God thank them for it (and hopefully the lucky men too, though I hear men are bad at thanking their wives or saying admiring and loving things to them. This is definitely weird to me).
So I raise a cheer for sexual freedom and racial communication! Life is short, beautiful, dangerous, difficult and demanding. There’s really nothing to be gained by making someone else’s life harder than it already is.