overkill

Today, I am most certain of one thing. I am a racist. How much of a racial bigot I am, I am not certain. 

Since I’ve gotten here last October I’ve heard it said by my fellow Filipinos that Canadians are lazy. I’ve heard that statement being said by my German colleagues too. I try not to dwell on it. I get pretty worked up if people accuse me or put labels over me so I’ve lived the Golden Rule on that area... I don’t tag people because I don’t want to be tagged.

But despite all the years I’ve avoided tagging people, once in awhile an exception happens. Today happens to be that day when that exception occurred. For sure, this deviation did not happen in a snap. Knowing myself, I believe that it has grown over time. Every stony look she gave me. Every snide comment she dropped at me. Every smart ass instruction she threw at me was like being slapped. And when her destructive criticism became too dramatic and inappropriate I felt my mind shift to a defensive position. If it were not my years of experience locking my thoughts in my mind I would not have been able to stop my mouth shout “you fucking superior German bitch!”

Those words made me stop and ask why did I put the word “German”!?! I have a handful of German friends, and these people I have never thought ill of before or now. But then here comes one woman who happens to be German and thinks she’s the best at work has no manners, wants to be pampered, has no sense of professionalism making me sooo angry that I say her nationality with repulsion. The thing is... when I think about my other German friends I do not feel any bit acrimonious. But when my mind remembers her I feel so angry I want to hurt her and erase that arrogant look she gives me (too physical, tsk!). She brings out the violent side of me. And I know that I can complain about her so she can be written up and get fired.

Yet I won’t complain. I’m not masochistic. Erhmmm... Okay, I am --- in some areas, but not on this one. I won’t complain because the truth is, I’ve gotten to the point when I don’t give a damn. She can be the same bitch she wants and knows how to be and I’ll just look at her like she’s a paramecium. 

What I am more engrossed about is finding out how much of a racist am I. The answer to that than when will I be rid of that German bitch is more worthwhile. Strange that I will discover parts of me this way. Strange that when my mind was shouting those words I felt no shame or guilt. I guess I've been a racist all my life...just dormant and the racist in me just get’s triggered when the wrong combinations are pushed.