Or are you? Or only differently? And why am I being disadvantaged at all? Is something being taken away from me? Are they allowed to do that? Do I have to fight back? Or am I allowed to think that’s a good thing?
What have I done now?
Well. Day two of the new year. I’m among people.
And there are different kinds. And when different people sit around the same table, topics get found. Completely normal.
People like to pick topics that can polarize and make it easy to quickly find common ground. Also completely normal. It connects people and strengthens the group.
I’ve changed
Or put differently: I’ve gained life experience. More or less voluntarily.
I’ve met interesting people. I’ve learned. Most of the time I’ve had to question myself, or the earlier version of me. Not rarely full of shame. And I like to think: for the better.
Sometimes I’m sitting at tables where either the experiences people have had, or the conclusions they’ve drawn from them, are very different from my own.
At this point, what matters to me is: that’s okay!
My viewpoint is, after all, above all: my(!) viewpoint.
We don’t have to agree. And certainly not with mine of all things.
But: in circles like that, I notice the changes in me especially clearly. Particularly intensely when it comes to topics where I “used to”1 have had a different, often opposite opinion.
Inside, I relive shame and anger at myself all over again.
And sometimes, with topics that have hit me especially hard, I react… explosively.
Because I simply don’t want to let it happen in silence anymore.
Politics
We have to talk about politics.
Only then can it be reflected on and lived out as a society.
And why not “in a social setting”?
Only when it gets unobjective… then I sometimes step in.
When, for example, it’s “Those up there…”, “the punishments need to be tougher…”, “Someone should…”, or “I’m not voting anymore because…”, “They’re ALL unelectable…”.
The more sweeping the accusations and the harsher and more draconian the demands made of vague, unnamed, nebulous figures, the less I can go along with it…
Today’s youth
Everything used to be better. The moss was greener and the stones were harder.
A current favorite: “They don’t even want to work anymore!”
Apparently humanity has been going downhill a little more with every generation for 300,000 years!
Hitting
“It didn’t do us any harm either!”
It did. It did harm.
And when you say something like that, you cover for those who still do it: hitting children and those in their care.
And you frighten those who are being hit and cement their fears.
Please, please accept help.
“Foreigners”
They’re to blame for everything anyway.
And they’re not even from here. And besides! Are they even allowed to be here?
I live in the Ruhr area.
If you ask someone here who doesn’t exactly have blue eyes and blond hair (what an awful cliché) where they’re from, the answer is probably: Dortmund, Duisburg, Herne… and so on.
There’s so much stupid, in parts disgusting stuff being said. I don’t want to repeat it at all! Some of it I’m not even allowed to repeat.
“Asocials”
Like “foreigners”—just from here. Or something.
Another word is “socially disadvantaged”.
Anyone unlucky enough to depend on the social safety net is usually scourged and excluded in so many ways… there’s no need to pile on with prejudices as well.
And “socially disadvantaged” far too often simply means “poor,” “lonely,” “ill,” “unprotected.”
Gender-inclusive language
I have a personal connection here.
But who am I, and who are you, that we allow ourselves to interfere?!
Hand on heart!
I can’t go along with all of it out of personal conviction.
But I can live with it.
And that’s an exercise more people are welcome to take part in.
Again: that’s not synonymous with “approving of everything” or “dogma.”
But it’s a social reality that officially there are no longer “only” men and women. That was never sufficient.
And—hallelujah—by now this reality can be expressed a bit more.
Gender identity is a continuum—and not just men, women, things.
Our language is constantly changing.
It always has, and it always will. Our language is alive when we speak—through every pun and in every moment in which we try to find a better word for our thoughts, ideas, and notions; to speak more precisely, more appropriately, or more inclusively.
What I often experience is like this:
Someone walks into a bakery. Up to now, they only had bee sting cake and fruit crumble.
And as soon as there are also nut corners, donuts, Berliners and—God forbid!—black-and-white cookies in the display, fear spreads that you might lose bee sting cake and fruit crumble. Forever!
As if it were an either/or. When it’s an and!
Be for it. Be against it. But tolerate the others.
Please!
Names of foods
Now I’m finally getting to the point where I recently got stuck!
You’re not allowed to do anything anymore…
You mustn’t say *****kuss.
You mustn’t say Zigeunerschnitzel.
And what about Lumumba?
Apparently you’re not allowed to say that anymore either!
Yellow, red, brown, black2…
Indians, Eskimos, Hottentots…
Every one of these words is simply unacceptable today.
And yes, I learned the song about the “Ten Little *****leins” from my grandma. I ate Zigeunerschnitzel. I played cowboys and Indians—and the Indians were always the bad guys.
Every one of these words has a past.
They were stuck onto entire groups and peoples like a label on the forehead. They were coined by outsiders, by conquerors, and by self-proclaimed master races.
Every one of these words is inseparably intertwined with the fact that some people considered others inferior, unworthy, primitive, and whatever else—and treated them that way.
Like livestock. Like goods.
Human exhibitions in zoos or at fairs.
Human trafficking. Slavery.
The question is definitely not whether you’re still allowed to say that, or whether any of us are being patronized.
The question is why on earth anyone insists on continuing to use these words.
I can hardly bear it!
I’m sorry (That’s just a phrase! I’m not sorry one bit!), but I don’t want to be quiet.
Sometimes I am quiet. But afterwards I feel disgusting.
Rage and courage
This post definitely came about because I needed to vent.
I was furious and felt like I was just about to ruin a child’s birthday party.
This post definitely comes with a huge raised index finger.
These things that get bubbled back and forth often enough in pub-table-like scenarios…
Words, sentences that are said to belong. To create a common basis for an evening. Opinions that are simply adopted. From somewhere. From Bild or from that tough guy who has such cool cars… From family… From friends…
These things justify cruelties that none of us can even remotely imagine in their full extent—just to spare us the inconvenience of using different words. Let alone acknowledging what’s tied up with them…
Rage isn’t helpful.
I just about managed to hold myself back.
But (civic) courage is important.
Watch your thoughts.
They are the beginning of your actions.
- “Used to.” A point in time not specified more precisely, anywhere from one to thirty years ago. [↩]
- In contrast to the “white man” according to Carl Linnaeus: https://www.linnean.org/learning/who-was-linnaeus/linnaeus-and-race [↩]
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