A walk of reflection following the shocking scenes from Middlesbrough and other towns and cities over the weekend.
For the first time in almost half a century, I find myself fearing for my family’s safety. My two lovely daughters, both adopted and of mixed race, were born in the North of England. Throughout their upbringing, I was naively unaware they had encountered both blatant and subtle forms of racism. It’s only in recent years I have begun to appreciate just how much. Thankfully, it was not of a violent nature. Now though, they, and my grandchildren are threatened by louts fortified by right-wing bombast, who declare that they are unwelcome in this country.
They now face the prospect of being accosted on the streets by gangs of untamed thugs, brandishing bricks and draped in the national flag. The police, increasingly beleaguered, struggle to manage riots that appear both premeditated and arbitrary. These incidents are wholly unrelated to the recent dreadful murders in Southport and entirely rooted in the fascist dogma that prefers to target innocents rather than the commentators and oligarchs who are the true culprits.
It is futile to persist in the illusion that the UK is devoid of racism. Though it is distasteful to acknowledge, the racist hooligans wreaking havoc in our cities are a reflection of Britain. To deny their place in our culture is not only dishonest but perilous, as events last weekend have starkly revealed. White Britons may flatter ourselves with the notion that we conceal it better than others, but I wager that many Black Britons would strongly disagree.
These yobs are the offspring of an educational framework that romanticises colonialism with nationalistic fervour, a political system that exploits race for advantage, and a class structure that diverts anger towards convenient targets fuelled by those vile sections of our media that thrive on fear and misinformation adding their own poison to the mix.
We cannot fight what we refuse to acknowledge.
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