On Being Politically Incorrect

Political correctness has taken us forward in more ways than we could ever foresee but propelled us backward in ways that we never dreamt. I yearn for the day when people would say what they actually meant without fear of being labelled racist, ageist, youngist and all other ‘ists’ that a political maverick will no doubt think of in future. And I for one am equally sure it would be an ‘ist’ that I most certainly will not use because I simply cannot be bothered.

 

How did we get to be so politically correct? Not overnight that’s for sure. Political correctness crept up on us the way lard accumulates and solidifies itself rather uninvitingly on our bodies. I liken it to the day I woke up to find my thighs rubbing against each other. “Whoa! How did that happen?” I asked, like I didn’t know the answer. “Well, I know I’ll never lose my big thighs and hips because I’m a black woman so there’s no point in trying,” someone once told me. Well, if someone feels like that, they might as well not try doing anything ever. But I digress.

 

In our fevered rush to make the world a better place, we’re forgetting that we weren’t created to be uniform. If we all believed the same thing and thought and did things exactly the same way as everyone else, I doubt the marvellous inventions and kaleidoscope of cultures and peoples that make up the world today would exist. No siree. We would all be existing in a bubble of cold and mind numbing uniformity. Excuse me while I reach out for my Prozac.

 

We want to rid the world of bigots, racists, ageists, religious fundamentalists, left-wingers, right-wingers and so on which in itself is a noble aim. After all, if the world hadn’t turned a blind eye, slavery would never have happened, the Holocaust could’ve been stymied and Hiroshima could’ve been averted. Yet our bid to rid ourselves of these so-called politically incorrect labels have created a society where people are wary and afraid to voice their opinions on issues for fear of being called an ‘ist’. And that makes me mad.

 

“I find black people intimidating. They just seem so angry and I don’t even know how to behave around them.” An honest statement and one rarely heard. I’m more accustomed to hearing, “You know I’m not racist. I just don’t understand black people. I’m not racist. Honestly. We’re…we’re still friends aren’t we?” Well, why shouldn’t we still be friends? The person was voicing a personal opinion which was fair enough. But why was he so apologetic? There’s a difference between expressed opinions and promulgation of hatred and it seems our politically correct society still has to grasp the difference. And don’t even get me started on faith.

 

I was born into one faith but converted to another. I was a human rights worker and I worked from a gender perspective but I know that because of my faith I was sometimes labelled a fundamentalist ignoramus. The fact that my work involved encouraging women to run for political office in developing countries in spite of the cultural/traditional/financial barriers against them is of no consequence.

 

“But look at how far we’ve come,” some say. Yes, look how far. We’re evolving into a society with subjective experiences where basic rules about right and wrong are questioned because of the ‘offence’ it could cause people. Parental rights are being eroded because children are encouraged to find themselves without ‘interference’ from their parents as such interference could damage the children in the years ahead. I have one answer to that; yawn.

 

There is something to be said for political correctness though. It makes being overweight and unhealthy acceptable. Besides, who would want to offend an overweight and unhealthy black woman? That would be fattist and racist wouldn’t it?