CW: racism.
[I initially wanted to share this post to a very different audience. It has been in my drafts for a while now, but as work on my dissertation prospectus continues, I feel like it is becoming more relevant again. I know the saying „research is me-search“ is oftentimes employed to discredit „non-conventional“ projects by marginalized groups within academia, but in all honesty, I regard it as very empowering: precisely through my work on social epistemology and my focus on gaslighting and epistemic injustice I have been able to better theorize past pain and trauma. In any case, these are just some reflections, a mere writing without holding myself to high standards.]

There is a fine line between soothing someone’s worries and gaslighting them.

Growing up in a small, predominantly white city in Germany, racism was thrown at me left and right. (Together with misogyny, misogynoir, fat phobia, xenophobia, and later on transphobia and transmisandry, but let’s leave that aside for now.)

Any attempt to voice my pain over being, yet again, called a Neger, being yet again told I am “burnt”, or that my skin has the color of shit, that I *am* shit, that my hair is like pubic hair, that I should go back to where I came from (even though I was born just 15 minutes away) or to voice my general feeling of not being safe when walking in the streets – was “soothed” away by telling me that I shouldn’t take it personally, that I should “toughen up” and „get a thicker skin”. The others are just stupid, they are just assholes. 

Maybe. 

But was I not just a little kid, barely 2 digits old, that was just compared to human excrements?
Didn’t I deserve some compassion?

People close to me, sometimes even best friends, would throw the most degrading remarks at me, while otherwise being kind and treating me like every other person. They would say “Nothing against you and not to offend you, but Neger are ….” as if that magically excluded me from the category of a Neger, as if all of a sudden it no longer made me black. As if just because they said this, there was nothing else for me to worry about. As if all of a sudden I was safe.

But “Nothing against you” wasn’t the protective spell they made it out to be. One person telling me they liked my skin didn’t protect me from the four others that would follow, that not only told me that they didn’t like my skin, but that also made it clear that in their eyes, my skin always made me less than. Less than a person, less than someone worthy of respect – less than a human.

Already when I was very young I had this gut feeling that these were the workings of racism. But while I was growing up, racism, in Germany, was considered something only (Neo)Nazis “do”; something expressed in overt acts of verbal and physical violence. I never got beaten up, so I never experienced racism, or so the logic goes. The nice lady from next door can’t possibly be racist, the supposed “compliments” can’t possibly be racist and ohhh, was I dismissed and disciplined for even implying it.

I couldn’t call out the injustice I was exposed to over and over because ultimately, in the eyes of most – there simply was none. Instead, the responsibility was on me, a little child, to toughen up in moments that had the potential to quickly escalate into “actual” violence. 

Just ignore what they’re saying.

Don’t let it get to you.

Get a thick skin.

Read: You are at fault if you let it affect you.

So I silenced myself. I shut up. I always knew better than to talk back and stand up for myself when I was confronted with racism. Now I stopped voicing my emotions about it altogether. I stopped letting people know about my pain and anger. I dealt with it the best that I could and my body still carries the scars of countless internal battles fought. 

I swallowed so much bullshit that was thrown at me, to the point where it became part of myself. I internalised racism, believed I actually am less than. In part, it was „necessary“ in order to protect myself: I needed to know and understand how I was being perceived in order to navigate the world. Act properly, don’t give people a reason to be upset, don’t give people a reason to do or say something „truly racist.“ 

In other words, I had to worry, had to always be on the lookout in order to keep me safe – from anybody, basically. The person in all black, who could be a goth, a neo nazi or a member of the antifa – all could be dangerous. The police officer, the doctor, the administration worker – all could be dangerous. The teacher, the coach, the friend, the family member – all could be dangerous.

For people from all of these groups have been dangerous. They all did harmed me with racist remarks and actions in one way or another. And people from all of these groups continue to pose this threat. The issue wasn’t just about me being sensitive or them being idiots. The actual problem was a society infused with anti-black racism and white supremacy. Less openly violent, but structural and covert

But this took me a loooong time to understand. 

I didn’t grow up with a black person that could explain to me what on earth was going on. And the white people didn’t strengthen me in my suspicion that I am subject to (systematic) racism. No one even told me that my pain, my worries, my hurt, and my general distrust were valid. My pain didn’t matter and, what’s probably worse, no one bothered to actually listen. For that always runs the risk of making them feel uncomfortable. And their discomfort is more important than what I experience, right? It’s always harder to deal with the accusation of racism than it is for the person having to deal with it, right?

So best to just hush and silence the child. Explain the worries away in the simplest way possible. The others are just idiots. The child is smart enough to get that and if not, life will teach it eventually. Right?

To the people thinking this I want to say: Wrong. Just wrong.

It’s not just “some idiots” behaving inappropriately. And it’s not just some other people being „too sensitive”. It is a whole social structure that is inherently racist, anti-Black, with gaslighting as the central engine for its upholding and perpetuation.

Denying that the oppressive and discriminating experiences of marginalized individuals stem from structures of oppression (white supremacy and anti-black racism in this case) is a form of structural gaslighting. It conceptually severs individual instances of oppression, harm and injustice from broader patterns of discrimination. It places the “guilt” on the level of individuals only, and obscures the overarching structures that made their behavior possible in the first place. 

So attempts to “sooth my worries” about the racism I have experienced, am experiencing, and am afraid to experience in the future, can be understood as instances of structural gaslighting. And as with “individual” or „personal“ gaslighting  (in contrast to structural gaslighting), the effect is that the person being gaslit begins to doubt their ability to properly perceive and make sense of their experiences. Was it really racism or am I reading too much into it? Did they really say that or did I misunderstand them? Did they do something bad or am I in the wrong for feeling like they did?

I have 27 years of experience with racism. I also have 27 years of experience with a structure that taught me not to notice it. Of course there is always the possibility that I simply „got it wrong”. But I don’t think that the people who never, not once, were on the negative receiving end of racism (for some of them surely received and enjoyed its „privileges“ and „benefits“) are best qualified to assess whether I’m in the wrong, or are in a position to tell me “not to worry”. That did they know?

Earlier I said that I told myself: “Act properly, don’t give someone a reason to be upset, don’t give them a reason to do or say something „truly racist.” Exchange “racist” here with “misogynistic”, “transphobic”, “fat phobic”, “transmisandrist” – and you can see that I had a lot to worry about. 

So unless you have a deeper insight into who I am or what I have experienced, unless you have a proper grasp on structural problems and systems of oppression – don’t just tell me not to worry. Don’t gaslight me.

And most importantly: Don’t tell me not to worry when what you really want to say is: “I don’t want to deal with that/you”.