I know, because I understand how it feels. I understand how it is to hear something unfamiliar, and immediately shrink away (sometimes even with an involuntary look of disgust) before even thinking about it. An immediate reaction, caused by some mental block in the head. It could be a different skin colour, someone seen as ‘dirty’. It could be someone we think is smelly, though if we ever think about it, we do not really know why we think so – we have not really gone close enough to smell. It could be the smell of incense, or the sound of prayer. I hear a prayer in Arabic, and I catch that feeling. That shock of distaste, of immediately wanting to shut it off, turn it away, change the channel. That feeling that it is foreign, not mine, a thorn in my flesh. It is there before I think about it, before I realise it. I catch it – it is the fear of the foreign that has been imprinted in me; years and years of being conditioned to stay away from ‘these people’, a people who are violent, dirty, lazy, thieves and corrupters. Stay away from their religion, a religion which is controlling, authoritative, misguided, unaccepting, ridiculous. A people who keep taking what is ours and who are trying to overpower us bit by bit. Malicious strangers we must protect our position from. I catch it – the disgust, the hatred. I banish it, and let the prayer continue to play. This is what it is, really - it is beautiful.  

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Racism (or any other discrimination) is not caught outside, in others. (In an us vs ‘others’ framework, it is natural and easiest to accuse the other of the problem first). It must be caught, and stopped, within ourselves, constantly.