The Toll of Daily Racism

There was a time when I looked at bad behavior as just that — bad behavior — unless it was a “Go back to India,” from a yelping white lady or a “Fucking immigrants!” from a cranky old white man. It had to be obvious to be racist — the privilege of an unsuspecting immigrant who wasn’t born or raised in the United States, I suppose. But then I learned about microaggressions and implicit biases, and now racism is everywhere around me, whether it actually is or not. When the barista smiles at a customer in line before me and then purses her lips as soon as I approach, my first instinct is, “OMG she’s racist!” and not, “Maybe it was a forced smile before, and now she’s taking a break.” Also, I’m not Indian; just from a different country in that general area. In any case, that’s irrelevant, and I know we all look similar. “People here are fake as fuck!” I complain to my very white friend Mark. “Denver is so fucking racist!” “I can’t really tell,” he mumbles. “You’ve got to believe me!” “I do, Maliha, I do!” Mark desperately wants me to believe that he’s different; that he isn’t racist. And for now, I think he’s one of the good guys. <a href="https://medium.com/bouncin-and-behavin-blogs/the-toll-of-daily-racism-78711dcd94fc">Website</a>