Witnessing History

I am sat with tears in my eyes, goose bumps and a greater respect for Western culture as the president elect, Barack Obama walks to his seat at the inauguration ceremony.

I am not an American citizen, watching her country change before her eyes, nor am I an agéd, learnéd nor worldly-wise American citizen, thankful for change in a predominantly white western society. Nor am I black, looking back at my race’s struggle for power in the West.

I am 23, white and female, a trainee journalist, and a privately educated British citizen, and yet this day brings me so much joy.

In addition to the excitement, relief and hope felt by millions around the world today, the new president Barrack Obama brings me extra special joy and has a special place in my heart.

I was brought up by two liberal, left-wing educators, with a passion to instil in me a politically correct view of the world.

While my childhood friends played with white, big-breasted, long-legged Barbies or violence inducing action men, I played with both black and white dolls, word flash cards and wooden, eco-toys hand made by my father.

During early childhood, I was shown a fair, equal world, where I had no knowledge of differences between men or women, white or black, poverty or wealth. My fresh eyes saw the world shiny, exciting, just and free from violence, hatred or prejudices.

At 10 I began studying at a very small, all-girls, multi-cultural inner city private school in Bristol.
Within these red-brick walls, racism was merely a word that we read in history. Inequality for women was, as far as I was concerned, something that was destroyed by the suffragette movement.

This was my world until I was 18 – and it was a wonderful place.
At 17, on a school trip to Spain, I was asked to interview Spanish women about inequalities between men and women. I remember thinking, how strange it was that such a developed country still allowed women and men to earn different amounts, and I felt relieved that I was a British citizen.

The year after I left I revisited my school and sat in assembly where I realised how untruthful my upbringing had been. I was sat looking at a bubble. A world which brought me up to be, perhaps a positive citizen who could give something back to her community, perhaps a young women with much to add and gain from society, but truthfully a girl who had no idea of the world around her.

The biggest irony of my upbringing was the man who founded my school, and in turn, was responsible for the institution who helped to develop my personality and ethos, Edward Colston. Edward Colston, was a very wealthy merchant from Bristol who had an active role in the financing and planning of Britain’s slave trade.
Perhaps this is why Colston’s Girls’ School instilled in me, and the other girls, an idea that racism was no longer an issue within Britain. Our first term at the school was spent researching and learning about the atrocities of the trade of African men, women and children as possessions. But it wasn’t until 13 years later that I really appreciated the irony that money from a key slavery advocate and trader now educates free thinking, politically correct young women.

In addition, recently I have had an insight into the narrow mindedness of many British citizens – to my disappointment. I have been exposed to many bouts of racist, prejudice, idiotic comments and opinions over the past year, that I honestly which I hadn’t heard. I have spent months feeling like the world that nurtured me and built me as a person was untruthful and did not prepare me for the evils which I would face.

Last week I was left feeling weak from the battle and I felt that I had lost to those who honestly believe that Black people are somehow lower citizens, simply because of their skin colour. I feel battered by those who feel that women should wait until ‘their’ men have finished speaking to voice their opinions. And, I have felt exhausted after arguing that, simply because of my anatomy, I am not worth less than a man with the same upbringing, background and intelligence.

Yes it is true that I am now confronted by a polar opposite universe to that in which I was born. But I have been left feeling hurt, defeated and beaten.

Today however I feel lifted by a new hope that Obama can change such views around the world. At last such narrow minded, delusioned and hate-filled individuals will, I hope, bring an end to inequality and divided people, and will unite mankind, however clichéd that might seem.
This is my hope.
And to quote Martin Luther King, this is my dream