A Eulogy by Tania De Rozario

A Eulogy by Tania De Rozario

for everyone poked so full
of holes, their own voice passes
through them, history escaping
the body in a series of echoes.

for everyone distilled into colour
of skin, choice of pronoun, place
of origin, length of hair, years, skirt,
name, limbs, medical record.

for everyone made to believe
that the petals of persecution
blossomed from the buds
of their own paranoia.

for everyone passed over in favour
of a name that seemed easier
to pronounce, was less of an assault
to someone else’s comfort.

for everyone accused of prolonged
adolescence, scars on their arms
marking time like a calendar, body
taking itself into its own hands.

for everyone blamed
for the stare, grope, catcall, assault
that cut like glass into flesh as if
they had asked to be broken.

for everyone deceived
into dreaming, everyone who left home
and family to provide for home
and family, returning with nothing.

for everyone pumped
so full of doctrine, the guilt which ate
into their bones, made them believe
breaking them was the only way out.

Written for The Invisibility Project by Jasmine Cooray.

Untitled (On Racial Privilege) by Alfian Sa'at

Untitled (On Racial Privilege) by Alfian Sa'at

May 18, 2014

1. I can turn on the television or open up the newspapers and see people of my race widely represented.
2. When I am told about our national heritage or about civilization, I am shown that mostly people of my color made it what it is.
3. I can go into a music shop and count on finding the music of my race represented, into a hawker centre and find the foods that fit with my cultural traditions, into a cinema and find films in my mother tongue or at least subtitled in it.
4. I can choose concealer, blemish cover or bandages in flesh color that more or less matches my skin.
5. I can sit in public transport without wondering if the reason why nobody is taking the seat beside me is because I am thought of as being dirty or smelly.
6. I can look at a list of schools to choose to go to after my PSLE and not wonder whether they offer my mother tongue as part of their curriculum.
7. I can approach a recruitment booth for the air force or navy without having someone awkwardly tell me that it is an unsuitable career for me. (If they are more honest they will say I am unsuitable for it).
8. I can read job advertisements without worrying whether or not I would qualify for some racial or language preference set down by the employers.
9. I can swear, or dress in second-hand clothes, or turn up late without having people attribute these choices to the bad morals, poverty or ‘bad attitude’ of my race.
10. I can do well in a challenging situation without being called a credit to my race.
11. I am never asked to speak for all the people of my racial group.
12. I can go home from most meetings or organizations I belong to feeling somewhat tied in rather than isolated, out of place, outnumbered, unheard, held at a distance, or feared. 

(Still unsure about what racial privilege is? Here's a checklist, adapted from Peggy McIntosh.)