Where Did Our Humanity Go?!

The world is changing. In a short space of time, so many significant events have piled up that it sometimes feels like we don’t know which problem to turn to first. Covid-19, racism, nationalism, climate change… Some would say it’s too much for one ordinary person to think about and act on all at once.

And then I go on social media, where the biggest concern right now is — believe it or not — the weather. Posts and stories about the outrageous rain ruining everyone’s plans, because “someone up there has clearly lost the plot, what kind of weather is this.” And the second great existential crisis: “Are we even going on holiday this summer?”

Dear all — if those are currently your most pressing problems and nothing else is keeping you up at night, then fair play to you.

Let’s shift the conversation a little and try, just for a moment, to think about others — not only ourselves. Give it a try — it’s not as hard as it sounds.

I’m not thinking about the sea, or whether I’ll dip my limbs in salt water or fresh. I couldn’t care less whether it’s raining outside, because I won’t be sitting in cafés even if the sun were shining its very best. Because — hard to believe — there are far more important things in life than paddling and drinking coffee.

For a large part of the world, those things are, for example, human lives — imagine that. Because we live in a time when bare human lives are under threat from multiple sides: one that humans have no direct control over — the virus sweeping the planet — and one that humans themselves, white humans, have caused and continue to cause: racism.

Racism Is Not Someone Else’s Problem

I’m not an expert on viruses, so I won’t write about that at length here. I can’t directly influence its disappearance — other than staying home and wearing a mask when I have to go out. But what I absolutely can influence is the disappearance of racism.

I debated for a long time whether it even made sense to write about this topic. Not because I think it’s unimportant — quite the opposite. I believe our generation, aside from the climate crisis, has not faced a bigger or more important problem. I debated it precisely because of the color of my skin.

Am I, as someone born in white Europe, even in a position to speak about racism?

I will probably never be able to understand what it feels like for people who face contempt and harassment on a daily basis — solely because of the color of their skin.

But as a human being, first and foremost, I have the right to be hurt by injustice.

I have the right to say that what is happening is not okay in any way.

I have the right to worry about what kind of world we live in — and what I can do to contribute, even a little, to making it better.

Because the fact that I am white, born on the Balkans and living in Germany, does not mean this topic has nothing to do with me. Human responsibility does not allow me to wave my hand and say “oh, that’s happening somewhere over there.”

None of us can choose when we’ll be born, or where on this planet we’ll be born — let alone what color our skin will be.

No, I have never lived in a ghetto and I can’t even begin to imagine what that looks like. But I do live in a country I wasn’t born in, and every day I speak a language that isn’t my mother tongue.

I don’t claim that Germany is a country where discrimination exists on the same level as in America — but how would I even know what the real situation is, when the color of my skin meets the basic requirement for privilege.

What I do know is that Germany is a multicultural country. People from all over the world live here — all religions, all skin colors. So diversity is part of my daily life, which means the problem of racism and discrimination is very much my problem too.

It matters to me whether my child will play with all children in kindergarten — based on what kind of person they are, whether they share interests or toys — and not based on what someone looks like.

It matters to me — enormously.

What I Can Actually Do

Maybe I can’t go to the ghettos of America and protest in the streets alongside people who face discrimination every day. But what I can do is use my virtual and real voice and speak about this — because it weighs on me.

I can teach my daughter that we are all human beings first — regardless of any innate characteristic we didn’t choose for ourselves.

What I can also do is try to understand why I am part of the problem. What I may have done that makes other people’s daily lives harder. Because we all naturally start from the assumption that we have never discriminated against anyone. But what if we have — unintentionally and unconsciously?

And what if we are doing it intentionally and consciously, and have no desire to change that? Then, my friends, we have an even bigger problem.

Have We Actually Made Progress as a Species?

One would think that as a species, we’ve advanced enough to no longer worry about racial, national, or gender-based differences, discrimination and claims of superiority.

And I wonder: is the fact that we have advanced technology alone enough to call ourselves superior or more evolved than our ancestors? I’m afraid it isn’t.

Because if in the 21st century there is still fear of others and otherness — purely on the basis of the pigment of their skin — then I’m afraid we have no business talking about progress at all.

Enough Discrimination — Let’s Bring Humanity Back

The problem isn’t “just” the problem of Black people in America and across Europe — the problem is also the open nationalism dressed up as “sovereignism” that is clearly flourishing everywhere it shouldn’t be. Giving things new names doesn’t make them something different or less dangerous.

I cannot sit back with my arms folded and watch as racism and nationalism rise under the premise that “we’re not in the 1920s anymore, there are no Nazis or racists left.” Oh, yes there are — and more every day, whatever they choose to call themselves now.

Have we learned nothing? Is it really possible that my generation holds views that young people of those same 1920s and 30s held?

That hurts me.

I cannot accept it.

I don’t want to be part of it.

My child will not be part of it — and I will do everything within my power to make sure she never, ever hates someone because they are darker than her, because they come from another country, speak another language, or pray in a different way. Never.

Does a text like this even belong on a blog that’s primarily about family, parenting, and children? Absolutely. Because only when all of us talk about the problem can we raise awareness — above all, about the seriousness of the situation.

Only together — but as individuals — can we change something.

By this I don’t mean we all need to take to the streets (though we should) — but that we start with ourselves. Educate ourselves. Understand the problem — first and foremost. And then root it out — above all, within ourselves.

So that we never again recoil from migrants, Roma, Black people, Muslims, Jews, women, people with different sexual orientations… the list is unfortunately much longer, but the point is the same.

Enough discrimination — on any grounds.