racism doesnt exist with babies

How Did We Come to This? Racism racism doesnt exist with babies

How Did We Come to This? Racism


Racism, where to begin…

As I watch my baby play with his other baby friends it makes me wonder. When did we lose our inner freedom to love and connect with people?  When did we start to hate one another because of something as trivial as skin colour? How did it become ok for us to hurt another human? How did we come to feel we have the right to be violent with someone else and to take their life? Who told us it was ok to be superior, where one life was not as valuable as another? Where privilege was unchecked.

As I watch my baby play

As I watch my baby play, I wish there were more love in the world and for us to play in the same way babies do.

Tonight, I spoke with a 19-year-old who believes racism will always be present in the world, not because she wants it or believes in it but because she doesn’t believe the collective can or will change. It saddened me to think someone so young, full of love and life wasn’t optimistic about the future nor could they see a world where racism didn’t exist.

Racism always comes from a place of hatred and/or fear.  As I search my own heart, I realise change must start with an individual’s heart before we can begin to change anything external.  We all must come to a place of comfort within ourselves and it is from this place we can start to have a profound impact on the world.  It is only then where real change will come to pass.

I want my son to know racism, bigotry, judgement, violence and hatred are unacceptable. I want him to appreciate and love people and to stand for what is right. What is kind.  And what is good.

I am, however, challenged.  How do I raise a boy to become a man who lives this way? A person who sees the good in humanity and will treat people as equals.  And then it hit me…. and in a freight train kinda way!

It’s not about me raising HIM – he is raising ME!

We were not born to hate, to discriminate, or to be violent. We were not born with racism in our heart. We didn’t enter the world with these beliefs or emotions.  We entered with pure hearts and souls, in and of love

As I watch him play, I realise racism is taught, it is learned, and it starts small. It starts from casual racism – a little joke here and there, you know, something unkind.  BUT, if you don’t laugh or find it amusing, it means you’re uptight.  And then it continues to build.  Stereotypes form like “all black people are….”.  Worse still, generalisations are formed… someone does something wrong and rather than look at the incident itself ,we look at the person and their background and tar everyone with the same brush.  You have heard it (and please.. these are examples and absolutely NOT my beliefs!) … all muslims are terrorists, all Jews are money grabbing, all black people are thieves. This vernacular is deemed to be acceptable.  How the f*(k is that possible???  When did that vernacular become OK??

All these layers become unchecked facts and that is where fear set’s in. Then of course, we are taught to beat the person next to us, to take more, want more, have more. Our individual identity is based on being the biggest, greatest, richest kid in the playground and we lose sight of what is written on our heart and how we entered the world – from a position of love.

As I watch my little boy, he teaches me what the answer is

As I watch my little one play, share his food and be so comfortable with kids who are different to him, it connects me back to my own truth – I love people.  We all do.. it is innate.  Maybe if we all live from this place and keep an eye on what is important for mankind, we can make a difference.    Yes, this may sound like a pipe dream however, it is from dreams that new realities are formed…

I am happy to dare to dream, to see a new possibility because maybe it might be the very thing that makes the difference

May there be more love in the world

May we see each other like babies do

There is no fear, only love and we are all equal


AKA Urban Mamma

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