Growing up in Singapore, a country shaped by British colonization, I absorbed the unspoken messages passed down through generations—the reverence for the Western world, the quiet acceptance of a hierarchy ingrained long before I was born. But as a minority within that system, I also experienced the sharp edges of racism, the subtle and overt ways in which society reminded me of my place.
Now, living in a different country where I remain a minority, I see the patterns repeating. The echoes of colonization don’t just vanish; they live on in the way power is structured, in the way some still believe superiority is tied to skin color. And let’s be honest—these beliefs don’t die easily. They are reinforced through policies, media, and the everyday interactions that remind people of color that they still have something to prove.
But here’s the thing: when you grow up navigating racism, you develop an edge. A rawness. A refusal to be dismissed or silenced. There’s a deep resilience in knowing that history tried to define you—but it doesn’t get the final word.
So when I look at what’s happening in the world today, I ask myself: What’s the real endgame? Because racism isn’t just an unfortunate byproduct of history—it’s being used, strategically, intentionally. The question is, for what purpose? And how do we, the ones who’ve lived through it, choose to respond?
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