Racism is bad. Like, really bad. I’m forced to write this article in less than an hour (because I cannot wait to go out drinking), so I’m going to go on a small rant (okay everyone’s perception of small is different: just ask some of the girls I know) about racism. Racism is bad. Wait, I already said that. Growing up as a Chinese person in Australia (where racism and beer run like the Murray River), I constantly found myself at the receiving end of words, violence, and toilet bowls. It’s really disheartening to constantly have phrases like “you’ll have to deal with the bamboo ceiling one day," or the more elementary “f*** off Chink boy, go find your own people to play with. I hope you can see through those eyes some day” thrown at you day in day out. It's more disheartening when abuse from complete strangers finds its way to your ears: “stop stealing our jobs you slant-eyed faggot!” said orange-vested construction worker #2. It's most disheartening when you hear teachers at the most prestigious private school in the country say “they need to let more white students into this school. All I ever see is black hair and yellow faces." Admittedly, I had a lot of fun getting that teacher fired the same day. However, the following year, the administration changed the racial distribution rules for admission. I remember our headmaster (principal, dean, the guy at the top of the carnivorous high school food chain, whatever you prefer to call him) giving a speech during assembly about racial acceptance, where he commented that the school created a society where all achievements and acknowledgements were merit based. The next day, by email, we were notified about the admissions changes. I was amused and disgusted at the same time. I mean come on! I put myself in the shoes of prospective high school Asian kids who stereotypically have a hard enough time learning how to socialize, dealing with being shorter, having wiry-rimmed glasses as part of our default outfit,--even during soccer season-- and trying to get laid, but now they have to deal with a racist admissions system? I mentioned earlier that I would keep this short. Any longer and you’d all be bored, or, far more likely, I’d make a racist slip of the tongue (erm, finger). Anyhow, some people that knew I was writing this article told me they were looking forward to reading it, because apparently I have a reputation for being insulting and somewhat humorous in the process. However, I must disappoint those who were expecting this article to be filled with my battle against the editing team on the subject of profanity, or the Aussie terms that were part of my childhood, or any hogwash like that. In my humblest of opinions, there’s nothing wrong with an offensive jibe here or there, in the spirit of “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words they cannot hurt me." However, there comes a point where blatant objectification is just a pain in the butt, be that gender, sexuality, or race. Grab your handkerchiefs and hold on to those around you, because you’re about to weep. I am so happy to be at a school where multiculturalism is rampant, where we are all accepted for who we are, where we can speak openly about our pasts, our current thoughts and our dreams. I am happy to be at a school where I can hear the world’s accents as I walk down the hallways (as rare as those walks may be), smell the world’s smells, taste the world’s tastes, and meet people who look past what stereotypes represent and just see who you are. Thank you NYU Shanghai. I couldn’t be happier. Well, I could. But still, thank you. This article was written by Paddy Jow. Send an email to [email protected] to get in touch. Photo Credit: Betsie Wilson