Last June Oprah Winfrey, one of the world’s best-known celebrities, travelled to Paris. Like many well-to-do tourists, she made for Fauborg Saint-Honoré, a street famed for its exclusive stores.
Winfrey stopped at a designer store just after it had closed its doors at 6.30pm.
The star is reported to have asked the door staff whether she could pop in to make a purchase. The answer was a resounding no.
End of story… or not. Staff insisted they were busy preparing for an after-hours event in-store. But an unnamed “friend” of Winfrey’s was subsequently quoted in a New York newspaper, saying the term racism hadn’t been used but they suggested that if Céline Dion or Barbra Streisand had made a similar request,there may not have been a problem.
Racism. It’s no longer as simple as black and white. There was a time when it was.
“No blacks allowed” was pasted on the doors that greeted my parents when they arrived in Britain as part of the Windrush generation.
They were spat on in the streets, attacked on the way home and refused service in certain shops. Back then, racism ran through society in a direct and easy-to-read way.
Times have changed. The racism faced by my parents and their generation has gone; in its place is a “fog of racism”.
The Winfrey moment is a classic example of this fog. Was the decision not to open up motivated by racism? Would the store have opened up for Dion?
We know it’s there, we feel it, smell it, but we just can’t pin it down. The phrase “fog of racism” was coined by the US journalist Touré, and speaking from New York he explains it: “With this form of racism there is no smoking gun. There is no one calling you a nigger to your face.
“There’s no sign saying you can’t enter this building. It’s subtle, it’s blurred, but more often than not, it’s there.”
It has “become difficult for all sides to pinpoint, discuss and deal with”, he says.
A writer for Rolling Stone magazine, Touré tackles the subject in his thought-provoking book Who’s Afraid of Post-Blackness?
It caused a furore in America when it was released towards the end of last year.
In the book, Touré attempts to unpick modern-day racism and define what it is to be black today.
In doing so, he asks 105 celebrated African-American figures from the world of politics, sport, business and entertainment the simple, yet powerful, question: “What is the most racist thing that has ever happened to you?”
For the older generation, experiences were shaped by the naked racism of the past.
For the younger generation it was often a more nuanced form.
But the question made me think.
What is the most racist thing that has ever happened to me? Intrigued, I set about seeking answers.
Many said they found it difficult to pinpoint their worst single incident and that their answer would vary according to their mood. On this, I agree.
There are many contenders vying for the No 1 spot in my racism hall of shame.
The overt racism of being surrounded by a gang of Leeds football fans and having them chant: “Nigger, nigger, nigger, you’re a long way from London now, boy,” springs to mind.
(Current footballers, of course, have been tainted by accusations of making racist comments themselves – Luiz Suarez and John Terry, for example.)
Giving that moment a run for its money would be the incident 20 years ago when I made a pub in Stockton-on-Tees go tumbleweed quiet as I walked in.
I know it’s petty and I should be bigger than this, but I’ve had a dislike for Yorkshire and the North East since.
That’s the thing with racism. It leaves its mark. The name of a town, an airport lounge, a nightclub, a shop: to white people these are just names and places.
To black people, these are the locations of, and monuments to, ugly incidents that have blighted our lives.
Moments that, no matter how hard you try, you simply can’t forget. – The Independent