An Open Letter From a Very Dutch Husband to his Black American Wife.

"I Claimed To Be Pro-Equality & Truly Felt That Way."

Enchanta Jackson

Recently, my wife started writing a book called Every Girl. It tells one true story, from one woman, from every country in the world. Watching her commitment to the collection and telling of so many stories from across the world, made stop and think about our journey together and the things that brought her to the point of wanting to write this book.

"It was a Wednesday at 4pm when I got the call from you....

We'd been dating for 3 months. I was at work in The Hague, a city in the Netherlands, and had to find a quiet room because you were shouting through the phone, 

 

"Tell this guy, he's a racist!"

 

After a few incomprehensible moments I learn that you, a black American, had been asked to open your bag while leaving a store at the mall in a nearby beach town. You refused and called the security guard a racist- which led him to call the cops on you. Quite understandable from my point of view at the time. There was no evidence he was a racist. Right?

Let's back up a bit.

Growing up in Utrecht, Netherlands was wonderful. It's a picturesque city exemplary for the country’s reputation; canals, bikes, friendly folks, liberal politics and the occasional flower market.

From a young age I was taught that everyone was equal and that the Dutch predominantly believed in a merit based society. I also learned that freedom of expression, was the key factor protecting these values, and thus, directness became a virtue. Racism on the other hand was a taboo term reminiscent of the Second World War and in modern European history, exclusively reserved to those marching the streets advocating white supremacy. Therefore calling someone a racist, would be considered an offensive allegation beyond acceptance; a de facto claim that an individual’s moral code is profoundly racist. 

 

After meditating with the officers about your “emotional and aggressive behaviour", and explaining that the word racist, is used more loosely across the pond in America, I managed to keep you from being arrested.




Five years after “The Hague day”,  I realise how lucky I've been for your patience in educating me and for the fact that you didn't jump ship after 3 months.

In those years, I also learned a valuable lesson in discussing race with other white people in Europe; keeping in mind that racism is perceived to only comprise the wilful act of discriminating based on race. Without most realising it, this curtailing of the definition has further institutionalised its practice. By radicalising the word, we have ensured that Dutch directness prevails over any claim of hate speech; allowing society as a whole to effectively hinder any valuable debate on subtle forms of oppression. At the time, I did not believe the security guard had stopped you because he was racist, but very well understood it could have been due to his unconscious bias based on race. My perception has since changed to describe racism as the sum of one’s conscious and unconscious bias, and this has helped open people’s eyes, including my own.

 I claimed to be pro-equality and truly felt that way. However, I came to realise that not doing any wilful harm can hardly be considered pro anything; especially as we’re all susceptible to unconscious bias. The rise of this unintended oppression seems to have happened in parallel with a decline in the conscious fight for equality. The “liberal” Dutch have hardly noticed the transition in which acceptance became tolerance and tolerance became indifference. My opportunistic personality forces me to believe that the majority of people still favour an equitable society in which gender, religion and race do not affect one’s prospects in life. But how can we argue we accept or even value equality, if there’s no adequate consideration for the voice of marginalised people?

 

In The Netherlands, people have decided that the N-word is considered an acceptable term, and Sinterklaas' black face helpers are applauded as a tradition valuable to our children.

The Dutch majority rush to find representatives from the black community to echo their good intentions, instead of actively listening to concerns raised by the collective minority members of its society. We are quick to recognise problems like higher crime rates among minorities, going as far to use statistics as an argument to rationalise selective policing, all while refusing to acknowledge or address root causes. Parallels can be drawn with respect to low representation in the senior workforce and hiring policies, or education levels and barriers on the road towards quality schooling.

 

I argue that Dutch people, similar to most Europeans, are not intrinsically hateful, racist or sexist in the way they understand and define these words. Nevertheless, I fear for a generation growing up in a society entrenched with subtle forms of oppression, whose parents don’t even realise that racism is the net of your conscious and unconscious efforts. I for one hope to teach our unborn children the power and beauty of diversity, meritocracy, the importance of freedom of speech and pluralism. However, I would also want them to know they grew up privileged and that not pro-actively fighting against their own prejudice, will yield a net result of bias neither of us will stand behind.

 

All this to say, I'm excited about all you have taught me as well as the work you and your team are doing at Every Girl. Researching and writing one story from every country in the world is no small feat . I promise to use the Every Girl books to teach our children about diversity from a young age and encourage them to find lessons in the pagesBy sharing an entire palette of childhoods, I hope to open their eyes and make them advocates for the equal society I grew up thinking we lived in.