Where does it begins? We know that racism is the ultimate evil. I know that much, certainly living in The Netherlands, when so much of WWII played out, where so much racism still is around. But where does it all begins?
We know too that racism is just the extreme form of distrusting others, of even believe that the others, are others. Yet that does not answer the question, where does it all begins? Why do we distrust whoever is different?
Once upon a time I believed that sports events were the thing. Just imagine the masses attending a football match, half of it shouting at the other half. Just being the same, but reenacting the war that was not happening. I could see the ugliness and the anger. Competitive sport seemed to me a war by proxy, so I disliked it as i dislike any other war.
And then I went to some baseball matches in Caracas. And yes, there were wild, and there was aggression and brutality. And it was also a game. So we shouted to each other, we insulted each other, and some times we even went fist fighting and pushing and kicking each other. And then the match ended, and we all went out laughing our asses out, paying beers to the ones we fought an hour before. It turned out that those matches, those wars by proxy’s were not only ugly, but also were relief valves, places were a war could be fought, but nobody had to die, and after the battle both sides could go home relaxed and relieved, places were the aftermath of the battle was just a big brother- and sisterhood. I did not quite believe it at the first time, but my friends keep dragging me to the matches, and after a while I had to believe my eyes. Competitive sports were not it. At worst they were pressure relief valves, at best they were places to meet others, different and equal others, as frustrated angry and lovely as we all are.
So then, few weeks ago, I saw some friends of me fully engaged in a campaign of making their neighborhood prettier. They have organized a whole palette of things, starting with photoshoots with the mayor, sessions of group knitting to embellish the trunks of the trees (yes, I did not believe it myself till i saw it), collective buying of small colorful flags to hang across the streets and a bunch more of similar things and activities. At first I did not believe that this was that much different to a football or baseball match, actually. Ultimately not my thing, slightly uninteresting, certainly estheticly unapealling, but also kinda nice and potentially good for social cohesion.
And then I begun to wonder why do we need social cohesion through the neighborhood. Why do we seem to need the place, any place? Is that not uncomfortable close to the tribe? Why could we not amplify the level, and think of ourselves members of the city? Or of the province, better. The country? the continent?
Actually why of any place at all?
Why do we still need to use a place, which by definition exclude the people that belongs somewhere else, in order to feel cohesive? Could we not be cohesive with our fellow human, no matter where does she lives?
I am still wondering. Is this were it begins?