Nonfiction - Page 8

Szabina Tamara Da Cunha Carvalho

In 2020 a renewed wave of protests broke out in the United States with the aim of spreading awareness about social injustices against people of color in the country and bringing about major changes. The massive movements were first provoked by the murder of George Floyd, an African American man suffocated by a police officer’s knee. The case was not unprecedented; however, a video recording was made of the incident and uploaded to the internet. It is not surprising that the visual proof of such a brutal killing shocked and outraged many people, and not only in the States. Movements in support of Black Lives Matter have arisen around the world, including in Hungary. But are they productive?

Black people in America have a history that the country is not proud to look back at. The institution of slavery was only abolished in 1865, after a civil war that took hundreds of thousands of lives, only to be succeeded by a century of strict racial segregation. By 1965 (only 55 years ago) the country finally truly complied with its own constitution, and granted equal laws for all of its citizens, no matter their race. But as one would imagine, transition in practice is not smooth at all. Black people still face discrimination on a daily basis: no equal opportunities in terms of schooling and jobs, lower living standards — not to mention stereotypes and prejudice that are deeply rooted in societies and cannot be eliminated from one day to the next. Oftentimes such prejudice leads to unfair treatment from not only individuals, but also large institutions — like the police.

Now let us look at racism in a much smaller, European country: Hungary. According to a survey conducted in 2016*, about 53% of Hungarians are xenophobic, even though many Hungarians think of their people in general as “vendégszerető”, meaning “loving of guests” and, all in all, welcoming and eager to befriend newcomers. But what if the newcomer is not only a guest, but someone permanently residing in the country? What if this person is planning to steal our job? And most importantly, what if the person’s skin is darker than ours? Well, it is certain that this person is armed with bombs and could blow us up any second. At any rate, that’s what the right-wing government propagated for years during the European migrant crisis. In truth, most Hungarians (outside of Budapest) have not yet encountered people from the Middle East or Africa. So, if a black person were to walk through a village, all eyes would be upon them, but solely out of unveiled curiosity and shock. If a 75-year-old lady were to call them Satan himself, it would most likely be a result of folklore and being of an older generation who has only seen white people. Unless the lady were truly xenophobic, she would probably offer the black person some gulyás and be nice to them, after getting to know them. This is not to say that calling someone the devil and calling them out for their race is acceptable, but such incidents are not worth taking seriously. In contrast, the incoming wave of immigrants to Europe and the surrounding deterrent campaign has had a great impact on Hungarians, hence the drastic shift in the percentage of xenophobic people in the country (moreover, the propaganda was primarily aimed at people of Muslim faith, who are often associated with darker skin colors). Yet even this affects few individuals in Hungary itself.

If we talk exclusively about black people, very few of them choose to live in Hungary, and of those that do, the majority reside in Budapest (not a high number of them here either). Budapest, being the capital and by far the largest city with its two million inhabitants, is far ahead of the rest of the country: a diverse and much more accepting place in terms of ethnicities. Thus discrimination based on origin is uncommon there. The number of non-white, non-Hungarian people in other Hungarian settlements is so small, that institutional differentiation against them is unable to become large-scale or a significant problem, even if the inhabitants are far less tolerant than those in Budapest.

This, however, is absolutely not the case when it comes to the situation of the Roma people. They make up for the largest ethnic minority in Hungary, and everyone is familiar with them. If Hungarians are serious about addressing racism in the country, tackling Roma conditions and relations must be a priority for them.

The BLM movements of the USA have never been greater than this year, and so they had an impact on many other countries with or without black minorities. Protests broke out across Europe as well, and Hungarians soon joined in. In the summer of 2020, about a thousand people gathered for a peaceful demonstration in front of the US Embassy of Budapest. 

The primary aim of the movements is to bring fundamental changes to a faulty system. What was the aim of the Hungarian demonstration? To try to have an impact on the government of the country where it all started, to try to make a change in American politics and everyday life? Or to alter the Hungarian system’s way of treating black people? Naturally, both would be noble goals, though not very achievable, nor—arguably—too relevant to an average Hungarian. A third reason for these gatherings remains the likeliest and most logical possibility: people wanted to show solidarity for the protesters trying to bring actual changes. Thus the “Black Lives Matter” signs and the BLM-themed Artwork in the 9th District—a nice gesture of sympathy. 

So, which of these reasons predominates? The paramount goal of the movements’ participants must not have been the expression of solidarity (after all, many terrible, constant things are present in the world, even closer to us than America, that people do not go on the streets for). So trying to open people’s eyes and making a difference remains as the primary aim. If that is the case, why do these people not protest for the equality of Roma people? Why wouldn’t these people try to help them obtain equality in employment opportunities or, more importantly, help Roma children get proper education, if they are so keen on bringing social justice? Segregation of these kids is an everyday phenomenon in Hungarian education, beginning in first grade, even though it is looked upon by everyone as something normal. How does one acknowledge racism against black people in the United States but not realize how flawed the situation of Roma people in one’s own country is? Speaking in general, Hungarians oftentimes have a reason to be scared of gypsies, as the Roma people have a reputation, often justified, for being uneducated and aggressive. However, this is largely a result of a decades-long marginalization. They often face derogatory treatment from others and are deprived of proper quality education from an early age. A cycle like this is hard to break out of, and so is defying the expectations.

People go around assuming gypsies’ inferiority all day, just to go home and share a post about racial discrimination in the U.S. in their Instagram story and feel proud for “raising awareness”. Here’s the point: Black Lives Matter movements have become something trendy and ubiquitous, something to hop on, something to show how socially aware you are; perhaps most importantly, they are something American. It has become pretentious and attention-seeking to claim to be fighting for social justice, because being a social justice warrior nowadays is just like wearing the most recently stylish outfits: incredibly popular and just a trend. Following a trend with good intent behind it is not harmful — but ignoring actual problems in your own country is.

* https://www.tarki.hu/hu/news/2016/kitekint/20160330_refugees.pdf

Petra Varga

There’s a book that everyone knows… The Little Prince. Someone once said, “A characteristic of the classics is that you read them a thousand times and always find something new in them.”

I have been reading this book every year since I was six. I remember our first meeting. It was a total catharsis for me. It made me upset.  I didn’t get answers for my questions. It just ended, and I couldn’t understand that. And that’s the point where everything started. 

I just finished it for the tenth time, and I’m still thinking about it. Its meaning is constantly changing. Year by year…. The choice is in your hand to give your own answers. To think of something else behind it. To create more and more theories.  To change your worldview because of one sentence. Is’t it incredible? It transforms the way you interpret it for yourself, but it is still  a chef-d’oeuvre for anyone anytime.

It forces you to think about life more deeply.

Recently I realised that the book is still the same after this long time.  The thing that changes is not the book, but me….      

Lilla Kassai

When I was a toddler, I didn’t worry much about my appearance. I loved playing with mud and sand, climbing on trees, and even playing with dolls. I never thought that one day I would look similar to my mom. She looked so different from me.

When I turned eight, I started to hear about things that didn’t sound familiar, for example: menstruation and other stuff for pre-teen girls.

A few years passed, and I turned twelve. Believe it or not, I changed a lot during the past years. I became taller, and I started to lose interest in my dolls, because “they are for babies.” At that time, I couldn’t wait to grow up and be an adult whom their parents can’t tell what to do.

My appearance changed a lot over that time, as well as my attitude towards it. When I was around nine years old, my little tummy started to disappear. The baby fat started to sneak up towards my chest. My breasts started to grow! Most of the girls in my age would start to panic because of it and wear baggy clothes to hide their upcoming curves.  In contrast, I didn’t pretend to hide them; in fact, I was quite proud of the change in my appearance. I was so self-conscious about my tummy and baby fat that I was relieved when my curves started to develop. No more tummy and less baby fat! Finally, I’m going to be beautiful!

There are some disadvantageous changes as well in the life of a pre-teen girl: body hair. If we don’t shave it, we look like freaking werewolves; moreover, most of our parents consider us ”too young to shave our body hair.” Because of this, some pre-teen girls can hear whispers in the locker room before or after P.E. lesson:

“Have you seen Dora? Her armpits are getting hairy.”

The other disturbing factors are period and pimples. Our face can look like a redberry pudding, while our stomach hurts and we’re bleeding all week long. During this process, several hormones intensify and cause us emotional instability. We start to cry for no reason, like a five-year-old. Too bad, isn’t it? From a happy toddler, we turn into emotionally unstable, pimple-headed, sometimes self-hating fools.

After a couple of years, we go to high school. For me, it was like a nightmare at first, because it took me eight years to gain acceptance in my primary school class. Now, I had to do this again, but I had only four years left to make friends, get integrated, and not be hated. I feel my optimism spreading….

In some high schools, society has standards, especially for us girls.  If we dress too girly: we are sluts. If we have many guy friends: we are sluts. If we dress up in a slightly masculine way, because the clothes in the female section are for anorexic topmodels: we will labeled ugly, and have rumours spoken about us. If we lose our virginity: we are SLUTS. If we don’t: we are prudes. Double standards haunt us for eternity. And meanwhile our hormones are stronger then ever. Hello emotional instability and more self-hating, nice to meet you!

Luckily, we can get through this process over time, which means: growing up. I am sixteen years old, so two years from now, I will be considered an adult, and to be honest: I don’t want it. In my opinion, one of my biggest transformations  is that I used to want to grow up, but now I wish I could be a seven-year-old again, sometimes. No responsibility, just some homework from school, and playing. Or even changing a few things: taking karate more seriously, starting to play an instrument earlier and under different conditions, and a lot more. But how it actually went, I can’t regret. I did almost everything as I pleased. I wasn’t forced to take up a hobby, or continue doing one. I just had a happy childhood, and I wish I could live through it again.

Lídia Borbála Szabó

People have never been able to predict the future. They have always had wild guesses, but every expectation could be crushed by the next day. And it still feels different nowadays than it felt before.

About a year ago, Covid-19 started to form within our world. Before the virus, even if I wasn’t perfectly sure, I always had a clue of what my tomorrow would look like. I had an unbreakable timetable of my life. But after the pandemic, we weren’t sure about anything. We didn’t know when we were going to go back to school, when we would see our friends again, whether everything would be okay like they said it would be.

It still feels like everything is unknown. School could be opened up or closed down any day, quarantine could last a week or three months, people could get better or worse. We don’t know anything, just as we didn’t know anything before the pandemic, except that now this feeling has tightened in us.

I always hated change in my life. I love when things are the way I am used to, never changing. And personally, I feel even more uncomfortable than anyone else over not having stable facts that could lead us out of this mess.

Covid-19 brought a transformation into our lives that we didn’t expect; I don’t know if this uncertainty will ever go away and leave us for good. Maybe it will be gone in terms of the virus, but we will always find things questionable.

Adél Mihályi

Nowadays, you can hear the sentence ‘just be yourself’ from everywhere and everyone. It has become a really important issue to find our true self, and maybe it is the basis of confidence. But is it possible to be 100% ourselves?

As we meet many people a day, our personality switches to something suitable for the situation. We start to use different words and gestures; we talk about different topics with different people. That’s why some believe that it is impossible to stick to only one side of ourselves—even if we don’t want to, we are constantly changing. Minute by minute, a little piece of us disappears and is replaced by another one. So, in this way, we can’t be totally honest even with our best friend, or with ourselves.

Is life that unfair, giving us a whole personality that is just changing and changing, and even the owners of the soul can’t get to know it?

Where are we?

Who are we?

Imagine the situation: on a usual morning we arrive at school or work, and the atmosphere of the place is much different from our bedroom. We switch to another side of us, as usual—is this the real one?—and go on without noticing.

We don’t even notice, because we are being ourselves. We don’t use another personality, just another side of it. We don’t usually talk to ourselves like, “you have to be polite, kind, open, don’t use bad words,” because even if we are constantly changing, we can’t change moment by moment by forcing it. Radical changes need more time than just the way from home to work, but they still happen.

… Because we are that colorful, we don’t have to force any shades onto our soul; and we don’t even notice the shading.