Saturday, 29 December 2012

A message on macchiatos, Cappuccinos and racism.

I'm sitting in a cafe after a morning of surfing and yoga. The sun is burning away the barrier of clouds which has left the morning in greyscale permeating the horizon with a somewhat mysterious demeanour.

 I'm surrounded by an array of well-clad people, humans wearing their wallets as a front for who they are. Constrained by their facade of who and what they think is impressive. My table has the usual rock, the defect all tables are made with in order for them to be amusing to a waiting cliental, I've also managed to convince a couple sittng opposite me that the true purpose of the loose wobble is to allow a bit of ebb and flow in the event of an earthquake. Hit by the obvious truth of this realisation they have now gone about inspecting the table quite closely.

  I'm not one to do this sort of thing normally but it was sort of a public experiment to see the reaction. It's amazing how persuasive you can be with a leather bound journal, a macbook air, a top-hat and a macchiato. I chose this particular couple for my social experiment as I couldn't help but overhear their loud conversation about seemingly populous amount of people of oriental descent, and their stupidity on the roads. I warn you the following contains terms which ARE offensive. The conversation opened with the line: "Some slanty stole my parking spot this morn-" the girl was interrupted by her boyfriend who loudly exclaimed that "they're bloody horrible driver's and I had one going 90 on the pacific Highway." (Sick, I thought what kind of inhumane creature drives with caution, 90 on the highway? that's outrageous! But I digress; his lady, eager to finish her story continued) "Yeah but babe, I managed to convince this slanty idiot that the parking space was for australians only, and she LEFT!"(my stomach rumbles and not from the coffee but the extent that these two were sickening me.)

To people who are racist, does me drinking a macchiato to your cappuccino make me a distinguished gentlemen of class? No, does it say anything about who I am as a person, besides a taste I enjoy? No. You cannot, and do not define others, A person's skin colour does  not define them beyond a culture and heritage. A person's appearance doesn't define them beyond the scars of a life well lived. Who's to say a person who drives slowly is any less loving, caring or kind; and yes uncertaintly is something everyone goes through, but atleast afford a fellow human the courtesy of an open heart regardless of how they appear;. Like many of the people around me, there's probably an inner child who's building walls trying to be someone impressive. A constrained life is a difficult one yet they wear these masks to be worthy of you; is that sacrifice not enough for you to greet them with a smile, to forgive their choices of parking or slow driving?

The couple is about to leave and they are still subtly inspecting the table. I'm about to tell them the truth; that I made up the whole story about earthquakes in the hope that it might awaken them to how much lies can hurt. Perhaps then they'll think twice before labelling someone of oriental ethnicity as being not australian, or concocting a story about parking spaces for citizens only. Following this I might drive south along the hwy at 90km/h...

I hope they realise.