Colin Peters, thanks for joining us. Welcome to the show.
Sure thing. Not really sure this is a show, but yeah, no worries.
Great. So, tell us a bit about yourself – where did you grow up?
Well, I grew up in the suburbs of Melbourne in the ’70s and ’80s. My parents made the decision—
Why are you brown?
Excuse me?
Why are you brown? You’re a brown person. Why?
Are you serious?
Let me rephrase the question. Where are you from?
As I was saying, I’m from Melbourne, I—
Yeah, but where are you really from?
I… what?
Where are you really from? Like, originally?
Yeah, so I was born here. I am literally from here. My parents are from India.
Gotcha.
What?
You’re Indian.
My parents are Indian—well they’re technically Anglo-Indian. I’m—
Sure. India. Got it. Like the guy on The Project.
Ah, no, my parents are Anglo-Indian. Wait, what?! He’s not even—
What the hell even is Anglo-Indian?
Well, the term Anglo-Indian has a social-political history that can be traced back to the earliest contact between Europe and India. When Portuguese navigator Vasco da Gama first—
So I guess that makes you Anglo-Indian too? Is that how you… [interviewer mimes quotation marks] “identify”?
Look, that’s actually a really good question. To be honest, I think Anglo-Indian is a term that resonates with my parents because it carried a specific meaning in a specific cultural context—the British Raj in India. It defined a cultural identity that was premised on their connection to Europe; they had mixed British and Indian heritage. They understood themselves as Europeans domicile in India. I think that was critical in navigating their place in a complex and fraught colonialist social construct.
Despite the fact that marrying into Indian families was a policy decision initiated by the East India Company, Anglo-Indians carved out a distinct place in Indian society. Anglo-Indians maintain a unique cultural and historical legacy. I don’t necessarily identify as Anglo-Indian because the term doesn’t carry any utility in Australia. As a second-generation Australian with no connection to a diaspora community, my identity in Australia has been defined largely in opposition to whiteness. A fundamental distinction is that Anglo-Indian identity is premised on ethnicity, and my identity is premised on race. Does that make sense?
Not really. But let’s move on. What’s all this “whiteness” business? Don’t you think it’s divisive?
Whiteness is the unspoken normative foundation of Australia-ness. It’s not divisive for me to make that observation. Colonialism is divisive. Australian-ness is an historical institutionalised legacy predicated on colonialist white supremacist ideology.
That sounds pretty racist to me. Aren’t you being reverse-racist?
Reverse racism is totally not a thing. Look, much of what we experience in Australia normalises, promotes and centres whiteness and white perspectives. From the history we are taught in school, to the shows we watch on TV, to the CEOs of our major corporations. I don’t see myself positively reflected in much of that.
One of the few available alternatives is the ‘good immigrant’ narrative. But even that is premised on a myth that if you just work hard enough, you‘ll get ahead. It places the responsibility on an individual’s agency, and doesn’t acknowledge or address systemic structural barriers. It’s a deflection. Because if the myth were true, we would see people of colour represented equitably across all our social institutions because merit, right? And racism would just be a few bad apples. Yet white males dominate all those positions of power. You can’t tell me that there is something inherently superior about white dudes, but we continue to be told we live in a meritocracy.
This also plays migrant communities off against Aboriginal communities. Instead of centering Indigeneity and thereby gaining a stronger sense of place and welcome and belonging, migrant communities risk being complicit in lateral violence. It’s a stitch up. Which all serves to sustain an enduring lie.
You sound angry. Why can’t you just engage in civil debate?
Firstly, my lived experience is not up for debate. I don’t have the emotional resources to provide a forensic account of every racist thing that has happened to me in order to satisfy some arbitrary third party every time someone wants empirical evidence of racism.
Secondly, so what if I’m angry? Anger is a reasonable response to unreasonable interrogation of my humanity.
Thirdly, we’re fundamentally asking the wrong questions. Public discourse on race in Australia is largely centered around a binary proposition: that is, “Are we, or are we not, racist?” The question is posed not to tackle the complexities of racial identity or the lived experiences of people of colour, but to diminish them. The entire premise of a debate about race is designed to let us off the hook.
The answer to the question “Is Australia racist?” is emphatically Yes. If we could get past that, then we could start to have a more nuanced conversation about race or explore the complexities of being second generation Australian. We could work on building collective and individual identities that aren’t mutually exclusive—shared futures that centre Indigeneity. That’s an exciting prospect.
Okay, so Australia is racist. Whatever. What are your top three things we can do to end racism?
I’m not going to do that.
Why not?
Because you need to do your own work. What I will say is reflect on your own privilege, reflect on your own behaviors. I can’t do that for you.
Great, that’s two things. Close enough.
What?
Nothing. Go on.
None of us are off the hook. Whether it’s acknowledging our own privilege, having a stronger understanding of intersectionality, or being aware of the mechanisms of structural racism. I’m not immune to any of that. I’ve had to understand my own privilege and the ways I’ve internalised racism and colonialism or been complicit in lateral violence. Decolonising is an ongoing project. It takes work, but it’s liberating.
So it’s kind of like decluttering. You’re like the Marie Kondo of racism! You should call your TED Talk ‘The life-changing magic of decolonising’.
I should.
Someone should give you a book deal. Maybe a podcast.
Facts.
Colin Peters, thanks for joining us.
Pleasure.
About the author
Colin Peters is a writer and second generation Australian, based in Melbourne, Australia. Writing most recently about his lived experience of racism, his work has been published in the Huffington Post Australia, The Pin and Ruru Reads.