Neo-Nazi music, rolling down the hill
A couple of weeks ago, Simon and I drove out to the Allgaü for a day of hiking. It was a truly perfect day: the weather was warm but cloudy, our little Osho was a dream, the sun-dappled forest trail was gorgeous and everything felt just grand. Except that I found myself hyper aware of certain things. Like the fact that I was the only person of colour I’d seen all day (including driving through the super touristy village at the bottom of the mountain). Or that I felt the need to speak perfect German at every opportunity so I wouldn’t stand out.
I am not a paranoid person. But as a foreigner in this land, I’ve always been hyper aware of my otherness here (being not only black but from England and not the States, and having Jamaican and not African ancestry). I’ve never been one to go around feeling racially oppressed at all, ever. Bur I have become much more aware of what privilege actually means and how it shows up in ways I might not have noticed before.
On our descent from the mountain top, we stopped at a traditional (and ancient) looking restaurant. It’s always the highlight of a hike - stopping for a drink, maybe food, and enjoying a rest in the sunshine. As always, I was immediately aware of myself in my very white surroundings and as I walked into the restaurant to order, I started practicing what I would say in German when I got tot he bar. Now, I’m not fluent, but I do speak well enough to not have to rehearse how to order two Äpfelschorle in a bar. I wondered if people would stare when I walked in, if I’d stand out, if I looked acceptable (in my very regular shorts and t-shirt). I was relieved when I walked into an empty room (of course, because everyone was sat outside) and saw a man my age behind the bar with dreadlocks down to his waist. My immediate thought? Phew! I’m probably okay. Still, I greeted him with a Servus, got my drinks and tipped generously.
About half-way down, we come across a group of teenagers. Boys and girls, aged around 13-15. They’re laughing and smiling and friendly. I guess they’re on the way to the lake. They’re in high spirits and we bump into them many times as we make our way down the mountain. I found myself wondering what they make of this couple and their dog, how I would answer if we would somehow get into conversation and they’d ask what I did for a job. Whether it’s more interesting for them that I’m from the UK and not the US (the things our minds buy themselves with…)
The last time we pass each other, I notice I hate their music. I love rock music but this felt different. Growly and shouty and yep, giving off those hateful angry vibes. They pass us and Simon tells me its an 80s neo-nazi group called Böhse Onkels (Onkel/Uncle is a nickname for Hitler). And that makes me confused. They seemed like super “normal” and friendly teenagers. They were nice enough to us and honestly, I find it impossible to believe that young people who grow up in such a multicultural and global world could possibly listen to that kind of thing. Apparently, Sim tells me, it’s normal to listen to that band when you’re a teen. It’s a kind of fuck you to your parents and society but it doens’t mean they’re racist at all.
What does that even mean? Would I listen to far right music if I wasn’t into it? Hearing the lyrics and being moved by it? Were they racist or not? If I’d have been alone, might I have been treated with less indifference and more hate? Honestly, I wish I could ask them if they know what listening to that music means? If they know that by blaring that music out as they rushed past a woman of colour, they made me question whether I would ever be able to go hiking alone and feel safe. Whether I would ever truly fit into society.
If you’re someone who struggles to understand what privilege is, here you go. Non-BIPOC, like my boyfriend and possible also you, would never have to worry about hiking alone and being unsafe because of the colour of your skin (worrying about being killed by a wolf/yeti/madman is something much more valid). You can probably walk into a bar or through a village and never feel stares on you for being so different.
How nice it must be to simply walk around and get on with your day as a matter of course and be unaware that it could possibly be anything other than how you experience it.
That’s privilege. It’s blissful ignorance and benefitting from it to boot.
There is still a LOT of work to do before so many of the world’s population, myself included, can go about their day and simply live it.