When my sister first told my family that she was dating an American, my mother wished to know how educated he was, and my father wished to know if he was Republican. However, for much of the rest of my family, there was a question of far greater importance. Was he white? You see, if she was doing the Brahmin family a dishonor by marrying a foreigner, the most acceptable of those options would be a white man. I have considered a vast majority of them racist, but I have also been at the recieving end of it.
I grew up in London, and worked a lot of my adult life there. An East Indian in London can come to America and immediately grasp what a hispanic or African American says when he/she claims that they sometimes feel "invisible". I have no memories of active racism in those lands, I have never had any one refer to me by the epithet darkie, or sand ni%%er that many of my London friends have claimed were used at them. No noose in my office building, no pejorative jokes. But always a sense of alienation. The sad part is that the alienation was well meaning.
A lot of racism gets subverted into a more insiduous form, where people don't voice racist sentiments but act racist deeds. That is not what I am talking about. What I am talking about is the awareness that this person comes from a culture and ethnicity different from yours, you do not understand it, so you seperate yourself from it so that you don't inadvertantly insult it. It is well meaning, but I was one lonely Indian. Eventually people warm up, they realized that we had much in common- cricket for one- and when I left, I had many friends. I moved to another country. America.
My first experience was in the midwest, in a small college town. The first person I met, said Hello, asked where I was from (I said India where I was born), and gushed that I spoke great English. I thanked her. I walked on, but my friend visibly blazed. She was American.
"That was really insensitive of you, Sarah!" she said to the lady who had complimented me on my English. "Really! Would you say that to her if you knew she was from London?"
Sarah looked upset. I defended her, but in the end, something was done which is terrible. I dropped by her office several times, and she was always on edge. She made very general comments, she kept her distance. She was worried of seeming racist.
I have known racism. In droves. It is not a category but a continuum. Some forms of racism are actually justifiable. Yes, they are. When they come from not knowing what you are, and come with the willingness to explore it. There are other forms of racism far more harmful, but not so easy to call out. Let me illustrate.
Two months after I came to USA, September 11 happened. That is when the racism happened. Of course, my nationality or religion didn't matter. My apartment was trashed once when I got back from college. I had people yell out "Are you Bin Laden's whore?" while I walked back from college.". Someone threw a beer bottle on my head. That hurt quite a bit.
"Sentiments are fragile, right now." My advisor claimed. "Maybe it would be best if you could get someone to walk home with you, or drop you home."
Professors and students both volunteered to drop me home.
"I am sorry about this." one student said. "They do not know you are actually not the terrorist type of Muslim."
"I am not even Muslim." I said.
"Oh." he sputtered, worried he had made a faux pas.
"I was raised Hindu. Which is why MacDonalds is so scary for me"
He laughed, and the tension was mitigated. He asked me a lot of questions, some very pointed. I answered honestly, I answered without defensiveness. I asked him a lot of questions.
He is still my best friend in the world. Hell, I was the person he came out to a year later.
I understand, that as an Indian in USA, I have certain advantages that the Black community does not. I have not been systematically oppressed, denied even basic freedom and equality and subject to the sort of hostility they have. But how many black and white people just sit there with no racism in their mind, willing to make a fresh start but holding back because they don't know how the other would react?
Then you go from the Individual to the Family. My husband is caucasian, and American. We have a four year boy who could pass for white. If I dressed casually, I am sure in Dallas- people would assume I am the hispanic baby sitter. The fact that I dress expensively gives a lot of them pause. I have been asked if I have a "rich husband". I have people come up to me and speak with Tarzan like sentences.
"Do you (point to me) know (point to head) where Waters (make waving motions with hand) Street (make long raking motions with both hands) is (assume quizzical expression)?"
"Go up Harter and take a left where you see the 7/11" I reply, with my rather strong English accent.
"Thanks" they say. And go on their way.
Maybe one day they'll come across someone with brown skin and just ask them normally for directions. You see..I speak great English.