Oxford defines microaggression as "a statement, action, or incident regarded as an instance of indirect, subtle, or unintentional discrimination against members of a marginalized group such as a racial or ethnic minority." They can happen intentionally or not, directly or not. They can be verbal or visual. Some people experience them every day. Here's a place to talk about it.
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Well, my brother sent me a hate note, whacked my glasses off my face, body slams me regularly, and screams at me all the time. Does that count?
No, seriously, does that count? He seems so perfect in other people’s eyes that I’m not sure it counts.
I’m Jewish but have a very WASPy name. When some people find out I’m Jewish they usually don’t say anything at first but later on will make a comment like “it’s so nice that you all stick together” or are shocked to find out I never had a Christmas tree. I usually just shrug it off to innocent ignorance and not hate. I’m sure I say some stupid things too.
I'm gonna add a short rant-y type piece that I did as an assignment for my First Year Seminar at my college.
Microaggressions affect most people in day-to-day life. Often disguided as compliments or praise, they are derogatory and insulting messages based on a group that is a part of the target's identity (ex. female, gay, Aisan, etc). Microaggressions are not always intentional. The person making the comment might be trying to be nice. But the target always feels the same. Hurt, insulted, insecure, unsure of themselves, losing confidence, losing pride in their identity. Stereotypes are often the fuel/inspiration (for lack of a better term) for these comments. "You're Aisan, so you must be good at math." "Oh you're gay? Don't hit on me." "You're one of the least scary black people I've met." These are a few comments that people hear from their peers, sometimes on a daily basis.
I will admit that I have been on both the giving and recieving end of microaggression, and when I was on the giving end, I never realized what I was saying was hurtful. There was this veil over my eyes, this unkown privilege that blinded me to the pain I could be causing to others. Looking back through my own experiences, I can pick out one or two times where I felt targeted. Once, when I was in second grade, I was pulled from class to talk to the other classes about Hannukah and Jewish culture. I do look pretty Jewish, and I do have a rich Jewish heritage, but my family doesn't really celebrate any religious aspect of holidays. We don't worship any god, or pray, or go to temple/mass. My brother and I don't wear any religious symbols or articles of clothing. I wasn't really advertising my Jewishness. And when I was sitting in front of those other groups of kids, I kind of felt singled out and confused, because I didn't know what I was supposed to be talking about. I was in doubt about my heritage. The other time that stands out was less severe, I guess. I was walking down the street, heading to Newhouse. I was wearing a gay pride shirt, and some religious guy stopped me, and handed me a pamphlet that said "For Sinners Only!" It was basically telling me I was going to hell if I didn't repent for my "sin." I can't speak on microaggressions related to race, I don't really think I have any right to talk about the impact or how they might be percieved, as I will never experience a race-related attack. That is part of my white privilege, and I am ashamed to even have it. I wish that white privilege didn't exist, I wish that male privilege didn't exist, I wish no group of people was cast out or elevated just for who they are. I want to be able to walk home from the Barnes Center without feeling the need to check over my shoulder every few seconds. I want to be able to go out and party with the other people in my dorm, but I'm too scared that someone will spike my drink to take advantage. I wish other people took period pain seriously. I wish that I could exist on campus without having to worry about an Anti-Semetic attack on me or my roomate. I wish that my twelve-year-old self didn't have to fear for her life when she was followed by a pickup truck in her own neighborhood with a group of men whistling and hollering at her. I wish the Pink Tax didn't exist. I wish that I could speak up for myself against sexual comments without subconciously being worried about hurting his feelings. I wish I didn't even have to worry about sexual assault or harassment. I wish I wasn't constantly comparing myself to others online, listening to and watching media that told me that as a woman it was my duty to make myself sexually pleasing to men. I wish I wasn't self-consious. I wish that I didn't have to fear for my safety as a gay woman. I wish I could be out publicly without wondering if I would be the next name in the newspaper. I wish I could be out back in my high and middle school life without being called a f****t. Without being told that I should die. Without being to
My brother, as a gay Mexican, has told me of some micro aggression he has had to deal almost daily. Walking down the street in busy L.A., he will stay to the right when he sees someone coming towards him, assuming the passing courtesy will be followed by the other person as well. Nope. They will will either shoulder bump him off the side walk, walk waaay around him like he’s the Mucinex man, or hard stare him until he gives up the whole side walk in fear if he doesn’t. Its his opinion that its because of his looks- his walk, coloring, dress or mannerisms. When in a work group, he feels ignored, talked over, or his ideas are declined but then someone else says his idea in a slightly different way and its of course now A GREAT IDEA per the boss. He tries to stay upbeat and happy but it sure brings him down
