Last week, I had invigilation duty — something I have done hundreds of times over my 25-year teaching career at the University of Delhi. As I walked into the room, I heard cries of “ching-chong” from the very first desk, designed to be overheard by me and others around.
As somebody from the Northeast, I have faced innumerable instances of casual racism. But this time, it happened in a room where I was the principal authority. It wouldn’t be remiss to assume that no student would make such remarks against me, particularly in a controlled institutional setting. I am also the nodal officer for Northeast students in my college, as well as the staff advisor to the Northeast Students Organisation of my college.
And yet, how casually the student could make racist remarks against me, without fear, clearly expecting to get away with it.
Such situations are common for people who look like me. Adjectives such as “Nepali”, “chinky”, “momo”, “Chinese” are all too familiar to us. What was worrying, however, was the fact that the student was a typical urban middle-class youth studying in a premier university, sharing space with many students from the Northeast.
If he thought he could get away by doing this to a teacher, what must his daily interactions be with his peer group? It made me worry about the students and young people who face harassment daily without a social safety net.
Far away from home, they are left to fend for themselves, facing slurs, insults, and even physical assault. Racial discrimination lurks in the educational institutions they study in, local neighbourhoods where they live, markets, public transport.
A Nido Tania from Arunachal Pradesh, killed in Delhi’s Lajpat Nagar or an Anjel Chakma from Tripura, brutally murdered in Dehradun, act as occasional reminders of the severity of this racism.
Tania’s murder and the subsequent public outcry led to the formation of the Bezbaruah Committee in 2014. They made important recommendations that led to some concrete impact, including amending the IPC to make racial slurs and acts cognisable; creating nodal police stations and helplines; appointing special prosecutors; sensitising the police, and integrating northeastern culture in textbooks. Nodal officers were appointed in institutions, and the Special Police Unit for North East Region (SPUNER) was set up in the Delhi Police.
While such initiatives have instilled confidence in the community, there is a lack of demonstrable institutional and political intent in fighting the menace.
This is a reflection of a society where a culture of racism is normalised.
Take the instance of Anjel Chakma, who was critically injured and spent 18 days in the hospital. It is only after he succumbed to his injuries that the government made assurances on future preventive measures.
What is even more disturbing is that a senior police officer is reported to have said that the remarks against the victim were made in jest and were not a racial attack. Such a statement is symptomatic of the increasing normalisation of racial harassment.
The student in the examination hall gave me an unconvincing explanation and later tendered a weak apology, insisting there was no racist intent. I accepted his apology, allowing him to proceed with the exam.
Clearly, more needs to be done to combat the casual racism that one comes across daily in the form of offensive jokes at its mildest, to racial chants, physical and mental assault, and grievous physical violence at its worst.
One way forward is for institutions to have mandatory sensitisation for their students, staff, and other members so that they understand that even “harmless” throwaway remarks and name-calling have no place in our society.
The writer teaches at Motilal Nehru College, Delhi University
One way forward is for institutions to have mandatory sensitisation for their students, staff, and other members so that they understand that even “harmless” throwaway remarks and name-calling have no place in our society.
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