A Pedagogical Approach to Race Talk and Racism

However, racism properly understood cannot simply be reduced to the individual. Racism at its roots is a function of politics¹. One can easily glean this through a cursory reading on the history and emergence of the idea of ‘race’ and, in our context, how it was utilised by the British to perpetuate its rule² – a system that Singapore’s leaders inherited and tried to remedy through multi-racialism and meritocracy with varying degrees of success. Therefore, it is important to develop clarity in understanding the issue.

A PEDAGOGICAL APPROACH

Since racism is a complex and multi-layered phenomenon, a certain anti-racist pedagogy is needed. This pedagogy involves the (re)framing of issues on race in order to come to the core aspects of racism within the Singaporean context. Here, I identify three of these core aspects.

Although it is widely acknowledged that the concept of ‘race’ is a socio-political construct, it is important to note that it is also a lived reality. Hence, first and foremost, tackling racism involves accepting the race realities that engender our social existence. These race realities, in Singapore’s context, stem from a racialized environment shaped by institutionalised practices. Examples include the existence of race-based self-help groups, official data organised along racial categories, and constant emphasis on race as a determinant in social, economic and political discourses. Given that racialisation is a reality, there is a need to (re)examine how this impacts the lived experiences of groups and individuals at the micro and macro levels. “If we want to understand how racism affects us,” writes sociologist Alana Lentin, “we have to see it play out through processes of interaction, the institutionalisation of a variety of practices and the use of symbols and discourses…”³.

Second, racialisation can be a window to examine and tackle social inequality. As Marable notes, race is a notion that reveals the “unequal relationship between social groups based on the privileged access to power and resources by one group over another.”⁴ This is where racialisation is complicit in racism by finding justifications and remedies, of what is essentially a problem of class, to the traits and characters of the ever-shifting concept of ‘race’ that one is boxed into. Looking at the intersection of race and class, and extricating race from the basic issues of access to resources, power and opportunity is an important step towards the removal of racism. Take the example of poverty, which is often blamed on the Malays’ lack of drive to succeed. This is known as the “cultural deficit theory”. Steinberg was right when he pointed out that explaining poverty through cultural responses of the poor is a form of “intellectual perversity”⁵. Groups do not generally “get ahead or lag behind on the basis of their cultural values. Rather, they are born into a given station in life and adopt values that are consonant with their circumstances and their life chances.”

This was also Lily Zubaidah’s critique. The “cultural deficit theory” underpins much of the racial discourse on the Malays in Singapore⁶. While ethnicity involves ways of thinking, feeling and acting that constitute the basis of culture, culture itself is neither fixed nor unchanging. More importantly, culture does not exist in a vacuum; there are variables – sociological, political or economic – that interact with, and condition, cultural manifestations, expressions and responses. “The mandate for social inquiry, therefore,” wrote Steinberg, “is that ethnic patterns should not be taken at face value, but must be related to the larger social matrix in which they are embedded”⁷. In other words, racialisation can hide systemic issues that have little to do with the idea of race itself. Hence, we must go past the racialised lens to understand the real issues at play.

Third, there is a need to examine the impact of racialised thought on the receivers themselves. In its most basic form, racism consists of (1) essentialism – the idea that race defines one’s traits and characteristics in deterministic ways, otherwise known as stereotype; and (2) hierarchy – that there is a natural superiority of one race over another that accounts for the different social positions and standings. On one hand, a person who imbibes a racist mentality will act in debilitating ways – such as engaging in discrimination or exclusion – towards the other who is regarded as an ‘inferior’ or a depository of negative biological and cultural traits. On the other hand, the one receiving the brunt of racism will either internalise the racism and/or themselves engage in racism towards others.

Internalised racism can be seen by the tendency of certain successful individuals who dissociate themselves from the community, engage in self-loathing, or perpetuate the same negative stereotypes onto their own community. Emptied of their own cultural roots which they refuse to identify with, yet face barriers in being admitted fully to the world of the privileged racial group, a deep-seated inferiority complex develops, expressing itself in alienation, self-hatred and contempt for their own race. Rice Media’s article, ‘What Growing Up Privileged Taught Me About Being Malay’ is an example of this dynamic at work⁸. I had previously drawn parallels to Fanon’s concept of “neuroticism” to account for such internalised racism within Malay society⁹. Noorainn’s study is also useful to trace the presence of internalised racism among the Malays as an extension of racism in general in Singapore¹⁰.

One understudied aspect is the role played by the cultural elites and leaders within the community. I have, on several occasions, heard contemptuous remarks heaped by prominent members of the Malay community, using the same categories of “lazy”, “unindustrious” and “lacking in entrepreneurial spirit” to account for Malay underdevelopment. Yet, their social status was legitimised by their almost saviour-like claims to be community leaders who ‘represent’ the Malays; and their wealth, to a large extent, sat on the benefits they gained from treating the Malays as their primary clientele in a sub-economy revolving around the community. Frazier analysed this tragedy, albeit in the American context, as the syndrome of the “Black bourgeoisie”¹¹.

If a characteristic of racism is the hierarchy accorded to races based on their perceived essential merits or demerits, then one can expect a person who is at the receiving end of racism, to equally engage in racist thought and behaviour towards those he deems inferior to him. Racism, therefore, involves a dialectic between the inferior-superior turned superior-inferior. It is not uncommon to find Malays who accuse others of being racist towards them, to be engaging in an equally racist behaviour towards, for example, dark-skinned South Asians. An anti-racist pedagogy, therefore, must highlight such contradictions. Until one rejects the notion of hierarchy of races and accepts the default position of equality of races, racism will persist and rear its ugly head in different forms in different places.

CONCLUSION

If we are serious about combating racism, we need to start by asking what impedes the development of an anti-racist pedagogy from developing. Hence, although frank and honest discussions on racism are opening up and a way forward, it cannot be reduced to individual sentiments, attitudes and prejudices. Human beings are not born discriminating others or see themselves as naturally superior to another. They are socialised into such habits of thought and practices. Hence, understanding the wider social structure is important. This includes socialisation within the family, workplace and community in general. It also includes policies in place and the way we organise society, which at its most basic level, involves social agents that themselves are subjected to the framing of race and racial ideas prevalent in society.

In this aspect, a question was raised by a friend of mine in a discussion on race recently: Is Singapore then a racial utopia or a simmering pot of racism? The truth is probably somewhere in between. Cliché as it might be, the task of forging social cohesion among the different ethnic groups is and will always be a work-in-progress. This is a good in itself; it allows space for critical examination and reform. Ultimately, ethnic differences are a cause for acceptance and celebration, but not to a point where these differences become a way to explain social inequality and to imprison one within a stereotype that masks one’s prejudices. That is essentially the problem that Singapore, despite its laudable success in stemming racial conflicts, is facing.

But it is not insurmountable if we are prepared to deal with the realities of prejudices, privilege and power at work. Doing so might, as Wing Sue notes, evoke strong feelings of discomfort, anger and anxiety, among others¹². Occasionally we observe such expressions online and in face-to-face race talks. But that might well be a moment for healing. Recognising the pain and harm that racism brings to both sides is the first step. The second is to embrace each other and allow the process of healing to take place. This healing process must include restorative aspects that address tension points such as racial prejudices, discrimination and microagressions.

Racism, even if systemic, needs to be addressed from the human dimension – and to do so in conciliatory ways rather than the adversarial. The former invites solidarity across the divides while the latter will only generate further pain and deeper resentment that can, as we are constantly reminded, end up ugly. It has happened in our history. It should not be allowed to happen again. As the Malay wisdom goes, “menarik benang dalam tepung, benang jangan putus, tepung jangan berselerak” (pulling the yarn from the flour, the yarn remains intact, the flour is not scattered).”