I don't care for serious discussions on my blog.
It's not a matter of ignorance, indifference or whatever you want to call it. It's a matter of looking at the world from a colourful perspective. I want to make the world a better place: laugh with silly things, smile for stupidities, love for no reason.
No black or white, just colours.
But then there's the discussion that's starting to take universal proportions. Zwarte Piet: racist? humiliating? offensive?
I didn't want to join the debate at first. I have my opinions about it, but I didn't want to waste my time on it. And it was working out. Being happy, since my facebook-page wasn't spammed with Zwarte Piet-messages of any kind for a couples of days. Until this showed up: Black Pete exposes the Netherlands' problem with race.
It made me SAD: big S, big A, big D.
I can cry for misunderstandings.
I can thank the world for depriving me of the joy of eating chocolat figures without debating about traditions, whether racist or not.
I can accuse The Guardian of being shortsighted, telling only half of the story.
I can mediate: the Belgians and Dutch have the tradition, others have another opinion about it. But others will probably never understand our tradition nor will we understand their opinions about it. Why? Because we have another point of view. Some people might be convinced - on either side - but never all of us. There wouldn't be a discussion in the first place if we all did.
I can say that there's not one Zwarte Piet who does his/her typical make-up thinking "Hurray! I'll offend black people now! Making kids happy? Are you stupid, I only want to be offensive!" *seriously????
I can talk about pots and kettles blaming one another for being black - oh irony - or say 'let he who is without sin cast the first stone'.
I can elaborate on the fact that the core of racism doesn't reside in the use of particular words or traditional figures, let alone that it would be solved if those words or figures are never used again. Boy, would that make it easy!
Or...
I can smile for the memories I have of the excitement I felt on the night of the 5th of December.
"Tonight de Sint will come with Zwarte Piet... Have I been a good girl?"
In my shoe I had a carrot for the horse, a beer for Piet and one for de Sint.
Once my dad came running into the house: "Come quick!!!" He picked me up and carried me outside. And there on the street I saw their silhouets.
I know now it was my neighbours dressed up but that doesn't matter AT ALL.
I relived what I felt back then as a little girl while writing this and welled up.
This is the only thing that matters: making kids feel excited. The pure happiness of a tiny human being. The sparkling eyes of an innocent child.
That's all that matters...
That... and a bit of perspective.
