For me, the beginning of August is usually a time for trite musings about the impending end of summer. I get very nostalgic about June and July, referring to the past several weeks as though they were lost like shipwrecked memorabilia. It’s all very sad and depressing. Yet, I always looked forward to these gloomy dog days of summer because of their role as a transition phase: The Wistfulness is the short period that precedes the sheer panic that accompanies the new round of the academic grind.
Regrettably, I don’t think that I’ll be able to enjoy the transition period this year, because I’ll only be home for a meager ten days before returning to sunny New Haven. It would be regrettable to squander my short time at home, clutching my Kampala city map to my chest and whimpering over pictures of the Nile. Instead I’ve transitioned into a new phase of Delaying The Panic, which has an indefinite endpoint. I’m convinced that this is a winning idea. Hopefully, I can seamlessly enter the new school year and magically have every pre-school task completed before getting to New Haven. After that, I plan on walking on water.
While I only have four days left in Kampala, I’m coming home with enough work to last at least another year. I’ve spent the past two weeks interviewing Parliamentarians about their opinions and attitudes on sexual/reproductive health (SRH) and rights. So far, the experience has been as fascinating as it’s been frustrating. As a whole, Uganda can boast a profound decrease in its HIV/AIDS percentages since the 1980s. However, I’ve been told that it’s uncertain whether the decrease can be attributed to an absurdly-high death rate in HIV/AIDS patients, or to successful HIV testing, treatment and education programs. It seems that while the SRH programs conducted by the government have been broadly received by constituencies throughout the country, I’m inclined to think that they were tailored toward spreading a common rhetoric instead of an actual plan for action. Already, my preliminary survey results are indicating that politicians tend to use the same lip service with their respective constituencies, but their actual legislative decisions rarely reflect their words. If I read one more response that uses (but fails to properly define) the terms, “mobilization”, “sensitization”, or “infrastructure”, I may lose my damn mind. I suppose I’m slowly learning the universal logic of politicians everywhere.
I hope that my results allow me to construct a rudimentary baseline for what political leaders claim to believe about reproductive health and the accorded rights. In a way, I think this is a substantial part of the battle for effecting any change within a political system: if we don’t know where our leaders are starting in regards to their beliefs, it’s impossible to move the masses anywhere. At least this is what I’m keeping in mind as I try to get this survey completed in three days. Part of me feels incredible angst toward my organization for trusting me with such a massive proposal on such a short timeframe (I’m attempting to survey 300 Parliamentarians in two weeks); but, I still count myself lucky to be involved in such a potentially valuable and wicked interesting project.
As of recent days, I’ve had a number of notable experiences and conversations regarding race. While growing up in a predominantly Caucasian town and attending a largely Caucasian university, I’ve managed to handle issues of race rather cleanly. Yet, recently I’ve been in more than one circumstance where I’ve felt that my race has counted against me, and subsequently I wasn’t treated according to the same standard as those around me. I’ve tried to be someone who doesn’t read racism into every situation in which I’ve felt unfairly treated (especially in the generation of Obama), but I had quite a bit of trouble getting around it this time.
Situational details are irrelevant here, if purely for the sake of having a constructive discussion about race. While it’s nothing novel for someone to have been treated unfairly for a melanin-based reason, my experience prompted an interesting household discussion about the use of the word, “racism” as opposed to, “discrimination.” One of my housemates referred to my experience as “reverse racism,” which didn’t seem right to me at all: to imply that racism has a customary application is of a decidedly defeatist mentality, though it’s undeniable that we tend to think of one direction of racism more than another. Another friend defined “racism” as the belief that one’s race is superior to another. But which side feels the superiority? If this is how I use the term in situations where I've felt I was treated unjustly, then do I presuppose that the unequal treatment is directly attributed to a feeling of their superiority, or my inferiority? I’ve spoken to a number of South Asians in Uganda, who feel that they are often scorned by the majority because of their power as a business class. Does that mean that the racist sentiments are derived from viewing the South Asian community as superior, if only through an economic lens? And if so, doesn’t that invert the previous definition? I think the only conclusion I arrived at by the end of this discussion was that “discrimination” can be a result of “racism”. I recognize that this really isn’t an earth-shatteringly astute conclusion. It was just very difficult to draw any other concrete inferences from such liquid interactions between people.
I suppose it’s impossible to incontrovertibly define such a malleable term—especially one which already tends to fit whatever definition is dictated by circumstance. As someone almost incessantly governed by reason, I know it’s nearly impossible to forget the powerlessness of feeling discriminated against and how such emotion can consume you and your judgment. Silver lining of the entire experience: I have a much deeper appreciation for thinkers and actors who manage to put their anger aside in order to harness the power of a constructive discussion.
How’s that for some presumptuous wisdom? Look at me, going to Africa and thinking that I can explain racism now—I promise that my intent was only to incite conversation. No more, no less.
In closing, an abridged list of things I will do when I have a 4-hour layover in JFK, en route to Raleigh, on Sunday:
- Rejoice in returning to home soil after getting through customs, though I won’t kiss the ground
- Appreciate the prevalence of indoor plumbing
- Satisfy my craving for an iced vanilla chai at one of the eight-thousand soul-sapping Starbucks
- Catch up on the electoral drivel provided by CNN
- Check my voicemail, and answer emails that I’ve failed to access/respond to in the past several weeks. Promise.
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