Racism

We are angry at what we just witnessed. She is our friend and when she hurts, we all hurt. Yoko, a Japanese Volunteer says, “I don’t understand. I am here to help them.” We listen intently, each of us feeling her pain. She explains that this has happened many times since she left Japan and arrived here almost two years ago.

We walked past an area affectionately known as the Ghetto. The smell of ganja permeates the air. There is a group of people huddled in a circle, high and laughing and pointing at Yoko. A woman got up and ran after Yoko throwing a piece of cloth at her. She taunts her because she is Japanese.

The Ghetto is near the sea where the fishermen come in with the catch of the day. The people who hang out there are struggling to survive. Maybe it’s the ganja that gets them through the boredom of each day. Making other’s feel less human may be another survival mechanism. Their feet are firmly planted on the path of scant survival where they are unproductive and less than ordinary. I feel sad for them for they won’t allow themselves to see Yoko as the wonderful educated, giving and smart person I know.

She has traveled thousands of miles to live in a completely different culture where people speak, not one, but two languages for which she is unfamiliar. Unlike Peace Corps Volunteers, Japanese volunteers are not allowed to return home during their two year stay. She has learned to read, write and speak English. She has helped her fellow volunteers plan an event to teach people about Japan. She has taught math to students and math methodology to their teachers. She is here to provide opportunity. While they toke on ganja, she is planning another lesson to teach Saint Lucian children math literacy giving them opportunities to lift their station in life.

Yoko went home in June after completing her two years of service. She returned proud of her accomplishment and with more knowledge and understanding of the world around her. She is kind and gentle and has had a positive impact on so many people around her. I’m proud to call her my friend and sad to remember that day when she was hurting.

Racism exists on the island as I suppose racism must exist in most places of the world. I am different here. Being white, I have also been the target of racism. It was upsetting, surprising and humbling. I hold the experience largely as positive. It is another part of life’s learning process. As a teacher I know that people learn by reading, discussion and experience. I’ve read and discussed racism and now I’ve experienced it. I am a better person for it.