GUN VIOLENCE IN AMERICA: FOR WHO THE BELL TOLLS NEXT.

Just five people shy of Sandy Hook elementary school mass shooting incident that claimed 26 lives, the Uvalde Texas Robb elementary school mass shooting at 21 victims, now ranks among the highest grossing gun carnage in America. It is sad that such frequent blood spilling has tragically become part of our culture as a society. May the souls of the killed now rest.

25th AMENDMENT: ITS NOW ALL CRICKET.

Madam Speaker Nancy Pelosi once questioned former President Donald John Trump's fitness to remain in office due to what she claimed was his declining mental capacity. Does anyone know what Madam Speaker presently thinks about the incontrovertible case which America is now saddled with? Just curious!

WHO WILL REBUILD UKRAINE?

The West should convert frozen Russian assets, both state's and oligarchs' owned, into a full seizure and set them aside for the future rebuilding of Ukraine. Like the Marshal Plan, call it the Putin Plan.

A HERO IS BORN.

I am staying put. I will not run away and abandon my people. The fight is here in Ukraine. What I need are weapons and ammunitions, not a ride out of town like former Afghanistan President Ashraf Ghani - President Volodymyr Zelensky.

IT IS WHAT IT IS.

"There is too much hate in America because there is too much anger in America." - Trevor Noah.

WORD!

A life without challenges is not a life lived at all. A life lived is a life that has problems, confronts problems, solves problems and then learns from problems. - Tunde Fashola.

NOW, YOU KNOW.

When fishing for love, bait with your heart and not your brain, because you cannot rationalize love. - Mark Twain.

JUST THE FACT.

In our country, you can shoot and kill a nigger, but you better not hurt a gay person’s feelings - Dave Chappelle

DO YOU?.

“What you believe in can only be defined by what you’re willing to risk for it." - Stuart Scheller.

HEDGE YOUR CRISIS.

Never get in bed with a woman whose problems are worse than yours. - Chicago PD.

PROBLEM SOLVED.

'The best way to keep peace is to be ready to destroy evil. If you Pearl Harbor me, I Nagasaki you.' - Ted Nugent.

OUR SHARED HUMANITY.

Empathy is at the heart of who we are as human beings. - Cardinal Matthew Kukah.

WORDS ON MARBLE.

"Birth is agony. Life is hard. Death is cruel." - Japanese pithy.

REPENT OR PERISH - POPE.

Homosexuality is a sin. It is not ordained by God, therefore same sex marriage cannot be blessed by the church - Pope Francis.

CANCEL CULTURE IS CORROSIVE.


FOR SAKE OF COUNTRY.


MAGA LIVES ON: NO RETREAT, NO SURRENDER!

TWITTER IS BORING WITHOUT HIS TWEETS. #RestorePresidentTrump'sTwitterHandle.


WORD.

"If you cannot speak the truth when it matters, then nothing else you says matters.” - Tucker Carlson.

#MeToo MOVEMENT: A BAD NEWS GONE CRAZY.

"To all the women who testified, we may have different truth, but I have a great remorse for all of you. I have great remorse for all of the men and women going through this crisis right now in our country. You know, the movement started basically with me, and I think what happened, you know, I was the first example, and now there are thousands of men who are being accused and a regeneration of things that I think none of us understood. I’m not going to say these aren’t great people. I had wonderful times with these people. I’m just genuinely confused. Men are confused about this issue. We are going through this #MeToo movement crisis right now in this country." - Harvey Weinstein.


RON DELLUMS: UNAPOLOGETICALLY RADICAL.

"If it’s radical to oppose the insanity and cruelty of the Vietnam War, if it’s radical to oppose racism and sexism and all other forms of oppression, if it’s radical to want to alleviate poverty, hunger, disease, homelessness, and other forms of human misery, then I’m proud to be called a radical.” - Ron Vernie Dellums.


WHAT REALLY MATTERS IN LIFE - STEVE JOBS

“I reached the pinnacle of success in the business world. In others’ eyes, my life is an epitome of success. However, aside from work, I have little joy. Non-stop pursuing of wealth will only turn a person into a twisted being, just like me. God gave us the senses to let us feel the love in everyone’s heart, not the illusions brought about by wealth. Memories precipitated by love is the only true riches which will follow you, accompany you, giving you strength and light to go on. The most expensive bed in the world is the sick bed. You can employ someone to drive the car for you, make money for you but you cannot have someone to bear sickness for you. Material things lost can be found. But there is one thing that can never be found when it is lost – Life. Treasure Love for your family, love for your spouse, love for your friends. Treat yourself well. Cherish others.” - SJ

EVIL CANNOT BE TRULY DESTROYED.

"The threat of evil is ever present. We can contain it as long as we stay vigilant, but it can never truly be destroyed. - Lorraine Warren (Annabelle, the movie)


ONLY THE POOR WISH THEY HAD STUFF?

“I’m not that interested in material things. As long as I find a good bed that I can sleep in, that’s enough.” - Nicolas Berggruem, the homeless billionaire.

Showing posts with label I became black in Canada. Show all posts
Showing posts with label I became black in Canada. Show all posts

Sunday, August 8, 2021

CANADA MADE ME BLACK - YAMRI TADDESE.

The first time someone called me the n-word, it literally stopped me in my tracks. I was a student journalist at the University of Toronto. It was spring, 2009. I had just come running out of St. George subway station, late for an interview. I had a deadline that same evening. I came to a halt when I heard the word. There stood a white man on the sidewalk, inexplicably furious at me. I stopped for a few seconds, long enough to look directly in his face and then I kept on running.

I mentioned the incident to my father that night after dinner. "Oh yes," he said, suddenly recalling something he had apparently forgotten. "Someone called me a n--gger earlier today too." I was stunned. He had been riding the subway when a white woman walked in and told him she wanted to sit on the chair beside him, where he had placed a shopping bag. When he picked up the bag and told the woman she may sit, she told him she wasn't asking for his permission and called him the racial slur. I wasn't sure if I was more horrified by the story or the nonchalant way my father told it. There was no surprise in his tone, as if this was to be expected. To me, he had only ever been Dad. But in that moment, I saw him as a Black man, burdened with all the prejudices that entails. It was deeply disquieting.  

The story of how I became Black is also a story about Canada. It's not always pretty — it's not the story Canada likes to tell about itself. But it's a story that needs to be told. I moved to Toronto from Ethiopia at 15, just a few years before the incident outside St. George Station. Life back home had taught me about differences along gender, class, religious and ethnic lines, but the nuance of racial difference was lost on me. In Addis Ababa, having enough money and familial status and coming from a privileged ethnicity matter. Men and older folks are also afforded greater respect. People offer my father their seats when he walks into a room because he's an older man. But since everyone is Black, nobody really is.

So, when I came to Canada, I did not think much about being Black. I was largely oblivious to stereotypes about Black people, often asking people to explain their racist jokes to me. It felt as though people expected me to know my place and I sincerely had no idea where this place was.
Anyone would agree that what happened to me and my father is vile. Being called a racial slur was jarring and scary, but since coming to Canada this isn't the kind of racism I've come to know and resent.

I've met people who deny the fact that they benefit from white privilege. They get to move through society with unseen advantages, without being prejudged. Anti-blackness has caught me off-guard, in moments when I assumed consensus on my belonging in Canadian society. I was baffled when security guards followed me around the office building I often worked out of, and they later complained to management about how loud I was when I confronted them. I felt the sting when, at an Easter mass in a downtown Toronto church, I reached out my arm to receive the offering plate but the woman who sat beside me skipped over me and my Black friend to pass the plate on to the next white person.

I was snubbed yet again at a professional mixer when I dared complain about the weather — a most Canadian of habits — and someone who stood beside me said "You'd think African immigrants would be more grateful."

Even as Canada actively thrusts a racial identity on people like me, this country often denies it is doing so. Black people are gaslighted when we talk about discrimination. Too many people suggest we're making it all up in our minds. Every "That couldn't happen here" or "I don't believe that, we're a welcoming nation" pushes forward a volatile legacy. The more vehemently our society denies its anti-blackness, the more entrenched I fear the issue is.

In my late teens, I prided myself on being a walking stereotype-buster. I felt I was doing all of us Black folks a favour when I demonstrated that I am in fact intelligent and lovable. Now, I know that was naïve. I am no longer preoccupied with being likeable just so people won't say I'm an angry, aggressive Black woman. Appeasing racists is exhausting. This impossible task should be no Black person's responsibility, no matter how frequently society insists it is.

When I told a Black friend about the experiences I'm sharing here, he wryly pointed out that at least no one ended up dead. He was only half joking. As far as experiences with anti-blackness go, it's tempting to say mine are pretty mild. I don't think experiences like mine should be considered mild. I understand the source of this sentiment, but the ubiquity of Black death in the news cannot mean that is where we draw the line. The standards should be higher.

It's true that for me, a part of being Black on this side of the world has been about constantly grieving the deaths of people I've never met. I learned about Andrew Loku, Sandra Bland, Philando Castile, Michael Brown, Tamir Rice and many others after they became a hashtag, but I mourn their deaths still. Each time a video of police killing a Black person surfaces online, I'm caught in the see-saw of anger and heartache. But this is only part of the story. Being Black has also been about feeling alone in my sorrow and frustration in classrooms and boardrooms, spaces where I am often the only Black person. It's about consistent isolation and second guessing.

Yet, despite the initial shock and consistent prejudice, becoming Black in Canada has also been about a new and profound belonging. I have found a community of Black women — on- and offline — who define themselves and affirm one another. These women validate my stories and offer me courage because they refuse not to bloom. It's in this communion that I have found the joy and beauty of Blackness. It was in the reflection of their light that I saw myself, Blackness and all. 

Although I still refuse to "know my place," I've found sacred spaces where I am both embraced and encouraged to make room for myself everywhere.The story of how I became Black is also a story about Canada. It's not always pretty and it's not the story Canada likes to tell about itself. But it's a story that needs to be told.

(FYi: The original title of this article first published in 2017 was "I didn't know I was black until I moved to Canada.")