Wait — That Is Racism Too!

When we hear the word “racism”, we usually think of extreme injustice— something that happens far away, in countries with painful histories of slavery or colonisation. We imagine it as shouting in the streets, hate speech on television or police violence. But racism is not always loud. It is often quiet, and it hides in the everyday things we say, do and accept without thinking. It shows up in who gets heard first, who gets opportunities, and who has to try twice as hard to prove themselves. Racism does not always come with hatred. Sometimes, it comes dressed as advice, habit or even politeness. In Bangladesh, racism does not always follow the same patterns as in the West, but that does not mean we are free from it. It is present in how we judge skin colour, speech, background or even someone’s surname. These are not isolated attitudes; they affect how people are treated, included or left behind. And what is the most challenging part? Many people facing this kind of everyday discrimination feel they cannot speak about it because it is so common and so normal that naming it sounds like an exaggeration.

These biases often start with small, everyday assumptions. A fair-skinned girl is called beautiful without question, while her darker-skinned friend is told to “take care of her appearance”. A student from a remote village is praised for “speaking so well”, as if it is a surprise. Someone applying for a job may be rejected because of how they speak or because their address does not sound “polished” enough. Even inside our homes, family members joke about complexion or compare children based on who seems “smarter” or “modern”. These words may not come from a place of cruelty, but they still carry profound meaning. Over time, they create an invisible message: looking, speaking or living a certain way makes you more valuable. And anyone who does not fit that mold is expected to catch up, change or stay silent. Students who speak in rural accents are often corrected instead of encouraged in schools. In public conversations, voices from certain regions are dismissed before being heard. These are not just passing comments but silent rules about who gets to belong fully and who lags behind.

Things become more serious when these attitudes shape our institutions. In schools, students from less privileged backgrounds may not receive the same encouragement or resources. In job interviews, we often judge people by their accent, appearance or confidence, not their actual skills. In hospitals or government offices, someone who appears poor or rural might not receive the same level of respect or attention. On television, most news anchors, actors and influencers tend to have a particular skin tone, hairstyle and way of speaking that becomes the “standard”. These patterns reinforce the idea that there is only one way to succeed and that others are always just “almost there”. This not only limits people’s chances but also damages their self-confidence. It sends the message that you must change who you are to be accepted. This is where personal bias becomes social inequality. And when those who do face discrimination try to speak up, they are blamed to be “too sensitive”, which only deepens their isolation.

But the truth is that racism like any other harmful idea is learned. And anything we know, we can unlearn. Change does not have to start with a big campaign or a new law. It can begin with a shift in how we think, speak and interact with others. Schools can make space for local stories, diverse voices and role models from all regions, not just from major cities. Teachers can help students take pride in their dialects, cultures and traditions. Employers must keep in mind that a soft-spoken, modest applicant is just as capable as the one with a confident accent. Media outlets can work to show a fuller picture of our people, including those who are usually left out. And online influencers, who have so much impact on young minds, can celebrate all kinds of beauty, talent and identity. Racism does not always need a violent system to survive. Sometimes, it survives because it is easier not to question how things are.

As individuals, we also have a powerful role to play. We can pause before making jokes that rely on stereotypes. We can speak up kindly but clearly when we hear others doing the same. We can remind ourselves and our children that no skin colour, accent or background makes someone better or worse. We can choose to listen more and judge less. We can look around our classrooms, workplaces and friend circles and ask: who is missing, and why? Racism does not only survive because of hate, it survives because of silence. And we make it weaker every time we choose fairness over assumption, kindness over judgment and inclusion over comfort. A better society is one where no one has to hide where they are from, change how they speak or lighten their skin to be accepted. We do not need to be perfect to begin but to be honest, open and willing to grow. The work of unlearning bias starts in the small moments—around dinner tables, in interview rooms, in school corridors—and it belongs to all of us.

_____________________________________

The writer is an Assistant Professor in the Department of Philosophy at IUBAT and pursuing a Masters in Human Rights and Multiculturalism at University of South Eastern Norway