pushed in the metro
I was pushed and shoved in the metro the other day. By a complete stranger. That might sound random and confusing, but let me explain: it was random and confusing. Just before the incident, I was leaning against the window staring into space, like you do in public transportation. The train came to a stop and I heard the doors open behind me. A second later, I was shoved against the window a few times and then pushed hard.
I caught myself and turned around, angry and shaken. The guy towered over me in a trashy trench coat that made him look even taller than he was. A few months ago, I learned that something happens to my French when I'm upset. My French breaks. It falls into little pieces and it's a miracle if I can get a few bits back together in the right order. I blurted out to the guy's face, "And if I were white, you do that!?"
"Excuse me, pardon me", he said with unctuous insincerity. His trashy girlfriend next to him tried to calm him down, tugging at his arm and whispering, "Honey, stop. Don't cause no trouble."
I turned back around in a huff. It was hard to believe this was happening. I separate racism into two flavors: passive and active. Usually the kind of racism that I experience is passive racism. It's the same condescending treatment that exists in abundance as much in America as in France. Asians are considered cute and hard-working, but without the same human experience as white people. We're considered conformist, timid, a bit misogynistic, often perverse and even robotic. Most of all, asians are seen as harmless. But this active racism was mysterious to me. It wasn't just condescension, it was hatred.
He started muttering racist remarks loudly to himself so that I'd hear. So I faced him again and looked him in the eye, standing close. "Excuse me, monsieur, pardon me", he said again and fell silent. To be honest, he was clearly surprised that I confronted him at all. Asians are harmless, after all. The train pulled into my stop and before leaving, I flipped him the bird two inches from his face. It was the best I could think of considering that I had lost my words. In retrospect, maybe I should've cussed him out in English?
The rest of the day, I stomped around Rennes practically looking for a fight while finishing up my errands. Every time anyone so much as glanced at me, I'd glare at them thinking, "What do you really think of me? Are you only civil to me because of your own cowardice?" The thing is, this wasn't an isolated event during my stay here in France, but it was the most physical. The whole experience has left a bad taste in my mouth. Talking with French friends of mine, they told me that there are recently demagogues riling up the weak-willed. In TV programs they blame the Chinese and other immigrants for the ills of France -- the European equivalent of the tea party "protestors" and birthers.
I caught myself and turned around, angry and shaken. The guy towered over me in a trashy trench coat that made him look even taller than he was. A few months ago, I learned that something happens to my French when I'm upset. My French breaks. It falls into little pieces and it's a miracle if I can get a few bits back together in the right order. I blurted out to the guy's face, "And if I were white, you do that!?"
"Excuse me, pardon me", he said with unctuous insincerity. His trashy girlfriend next to him tried to calm him down, tugging at his arm and whispering, "Honey, stop. Don't cause no trouble."
I turned back around in a huff. It was hard to believe this was happening. I separate racism into two flavors: passive and active. Usually the kind of racism that I experience is passive racism. It's the same condescending treatment that exists in abundance as much in America as in France. Asians are considered cute and hard-working, but without the same human experience as white people. We're considered conformist, timid, a bit misogynistic, often perverse and even robotic. Most of all, asians are seen as harmless. But this active racism was mysterious to me. It wasn't just condescension, it was hatred.
He started muttering racist remarks loudly to himself so that I'd hear. So I faced him again and looked him in the eye, standing close. "Excuse me, monsieur, pardon me", he said again and fell silent. To be honest, he was clearly surprised that I confronted him at all. Asians are harmless, after all. The train pulled into my stop and before leaving, I flipped him the bird two inches from his face. It was the best I could think of considering that I had lost my words. In retrospect, maybe I should've cussed him out in English?
The rest of the day, I stomped around Rennes practically looking for a fight while finishing up my errands. Every time anyone so much as glanced at me, I'd glare at them thinking, "What do you really think of me? Are you only civil to me because of your own cowardice?" The thing is, this wasn't an isolated event during my stay here in France, but it was the most physical. The whole experience has left a bad taste in my mouth. Talking with French friends of mine, they told me that there are recently demagogues riling up the weak-willed. In TV programs they blame the Chinese and other immigrants for the ills of France -- the European equivalent of the tea party "protestors" and birthers.