Recently there's been a spate of ugly racist incidents in Australia prompting 
an article in The Age by Tim Soutphommasane who argues that "combating racism 
involves a test of citizenship. Too often, otherwise good citizens fail to do 
their part … we find it easier to shrink away – to rationalise that the safest 
option is to mind our own business and not speak up".

I've no argument with Soutphommasane's basic philosophy, but the piece stirred 
up some painful memories for me. I've never been the victim of a racist attack 
but several years ago I was embroiled in a racist incident when I intervened on 
someone else's behalf. I'd probably pass Southphommasane's "citizenship test" 
with full marks and a bouquet and sash for good measure. But I'm not sure that 
I would intervene again.

Here's what happened.

I left work and took the train home on the Midland line in Perth. It was a 
Friday. I was looking forward to getting home and indulging in a glass or two 
of wine after a tough week. The train was packed full of – I imagine – 
similarly minded commuters.

Shortly after the train left the station a man started to verbally harass a 
young Asian couple standing near the doors. The train was so crowded that I 
couldn't see the man who was issuing the abuse. I could only hear him.

"What are you f***ing slopes doing here? Why don't you f*** off back to your 
own pissant countries instead of coming here and f***ing ours up? We should 
have just bombed every f***ing one of youse in the war."

It went on and on in that combination of fury and vulgarity that racists seem 
to have patented.

No one in the carriage I was sitting in was happy that this was going on. There 
was certainly no sense of triumphalism that the racist was telling it like it 
was. You could see it in people's eyes that we were all thinking What should I 
do? And the longer we tried to work this out and the longer the abuse went on 
the more collectively ashamed we became.

I'm not aware of making a conscious decision to intervene. I didn't take a deep 
breath and think "right, here goes". Something in me responded before my 
rational self engaged. I stood up and said "I don't think anyone's terribly 
interested in your opinion so why don't you just pipe down?"

Incredibly, my prissy riposte did not convince the racist to "pipe down". 
Instead, it simply transferred his anger to me. He elbowed the other passengers 
aside and barrelled through the carriage until he was inches from my face. He 
was much, much bigger than me.

As sometimes happens in the thick of a critical situation a terrible clarity 
came over me. I remember registering the size of his pupils and the smell of 
his breath and thinking You're not drunk. You're not pinned. This isn't drugs 
talking, this is pure, unadulterated aggression. The second thing I realised 
was that I was in it now and my only hope of getting out of it physically 
unscathed was to convince this guy that I was up for a fight. That underneath 
my pin-striped suit and spectacles I was as raging and unpredictable as him.

He told me that he was going to rip me limb from limb. I poked my index finger 
into his chest and, never breaking eye contact for a second, said "Just you try 
it mate. Just you f***ing try it". He then issued some disgusting sexualised 
threats that don't bear repeating. It was at that point that other (male) 
passengers around me stood up and told this guy to back off. A couple of 
passengers took out mobile phones and called police and Transperth.

I left the train at my usual stop. I and some other passengers advised the 
attendants about the man on the train and they were on walkie-talkies advising 
other attendants up the line. A couple of passengers told me "Good on you".

I walked to my car, unlocked it, put the keys in the ignition and then fell 
apart. My hands shook uncontrollably and I couldn't stop crying. All my 
so-called "bravery" deserted me. My hands didn't stop shaking for three hours 
and I had nightmares for a week. All the things that the adrenalin of the 
moment suppressed went banging around my head. What if that guy had gotten off 
at my stop and followed me home? What if no one on the carriage had spoken up 
for me? What if he had assaulted me? What if he'd been armed?

I remember talking about the incident with my dad (I talked about it to anyone 
who would listen for a long time afterwards). After thinking about it for a few 
moments my dad said this: "If he'd punched you, you would have gotten a black 
eye. Saying nothing would have hurt you more in the long run".

At the time I thought my dad's statement was wise and profound. There is no 
doubt that opting for being a bystander would have shamed me. But I'm not sure 
that I would do the same thing if confronted with a similar situation. I sure 
as hell will not advise my little girl to follow my example and put herself at 
risk of physical harm against someone so manifestly unhinged.

Is this cowardly? Morally indefensible? Selfish?

And if I don't intervene can I in good conscience say that I'm not a racist?

http://www.dailylife.com.au/news-and-views/dl-opinion/i-stood-up-to-a-racist-on-the-train-20130416-2hxev.html



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