Talking to my Pakistani-Canadian parents about racism

It was a quiet weekend in June when, spurred by the killing of George Floyd, my wife and I decided to watch 12 Years a Slave with my parents. The film tells thestory of a free-born African-American kidnapped and sold into slavery in the U.S.

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When the movie ended, my parents were visibly distressed and saddened. It opened up what's become an ongoing conversation aboutracism in this country, and in our own community.

As Pakistani-Canadians, my family and I have had to deal with our fair share of racism.

Why Im talking to my Pakistani-Canadian parents about racism

4 years ago

Duration 0:53

Askar Rizvi started a conversation with his parents about racism in the wake of the killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis. Heres what he hopes to accomplish.

I don't have an accent or dress in a way that would identify me as an immigrant. Because of this, I believe I have largely avoided thedrive-by racism that my brothers, who are more visibly immigrants, have experienced.

Butthat barrier quickly falls once people hear my name, find out my religion (Muslim), or where I was born (Karachi, Pakistan). That's when I encounter things like people mispronouncing my name or ignoring me so as to avoid having to say it, and dealing with the extra scrutiny at the border.

I had an especially difficult time as a kid. We arrived in North Americawhen I was six, living at first in a white-majority suburb just outside New York City, andlaterin Orlans.

At school, I was one of a few non-white studentsand I remember feeling like I badly wanted to fit in.

Though I listened to the same type of music, took up the same hobbies, such as skateboarding, and tried to dress the same asmy white classmates despite hating much of itI still ended up on the outside ofsocial circles.

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Some would even pronounce my name wrong on purpose to bully me for example, by changing the pronunciation into a curse word. You can figure it out.

Instead, I found friends who also found themselves on the outside looking in. My first friend in North America was a kid named Donwho was Black and also had trouble being part of the group.

As an adult, I feel there is less acceptance of the discrimination I once witnessed regularly.

However, I still don't feel comfortable speaking out as a person of colour. If I am engaged in an online discussion about politics, I will use an alias that sounds more white, partly for privacy, but mainly because I feel my opinion will be taken more seriously if readers think I'm white.

While I have found work as a software engineer under my own name, I know people whouse different names, such as my friend Jafar or "Jeff," or who have changed their appearance by taking off their hijab, for exampleto make friends, find work or feel safer. This tells me there's still more that needs to be done.

However, just because you've been on the receiving end of discrimination doesn't mean you can't also perpetuate it.

Like my wife and I she is also of Pakistani originmy parents faced similar struggles during their 25 years as newcomers in North America. Nowthey are in their late 50s and living a comfortable life in Manotick.

But until George Floyd and Black Lives Matter, we had rarely spoken about common ideas in our Pakistani-Canadian community ideas I would consider to be anti-Black and discriminatory.

For example, it's not uncommon to find people in our community horrified by the notion that their child might marry someone outsidetheir own race, religion or ethnicity, especially if that someone is Black. Nor is it uncommon to find people who still believe that the lighter the skin, the more beautiful the person.

To be clear: My parents know that Black people face racism daily, and they are horrified by what happened to George Floyd. But in my view, they and others of their generationhaven'tcome to terms with the fact that immigrant communities can be just as culpable in perpetuating those systemic beliefs.

This is something that needs to change, and that change starts at home. That is why we turn on the TV and watch the news about BLM and movies about Black experiences.Afterward, we sit and talk about what needs to change in society and what we can do to help that change.

I believe that attitudes are slowly changing and I can see it happening in my home. I see my parents realizing thattheir views from decades ago aren't OK, and that it's not acceptable to judge someone by the colour of their skin.

For me as a Pakistani-Canadian, this is a moment of hope.

Askar Rizvi is a software engineer. He and his wife live with his parentsin Manotick.