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Moracu jedan dan prevesti ovaj tekst na nas, ali evo sad za sad za one koji razumiju engleski. Halalite ... Last week me and my husband finally watched a movie Selma. We have been attempting to do this for the longest time as we are human rights activists in hearts and in action (I say this just because I know many who have great intentions but very hard time to act on it). Not just that we fight for everybody to have equal rights, but we live racism and discrimination every day in our lives on this or that way, which, furthermore, makes us even stronger and more insightful. Movie Selma (named by famous peaceful march from town Selma to Montgomery in order to raise awareness about unfair voting rights) was a story about three months long movement in 1965. This historical movement was led by spectacular Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and its goal was to ensure equal voting rights for people of colour, primarily African Americans. While this inspirational leader and visionary Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., together with his fellow brothers and sisters created change that altered the history, the movement and people participating in it itself faced all kinds of violent obstacles from opposition, more precisely the government structure and police forces. Dr. King's efforts resulted in president Johnson's signing the Voting Rights Acts of 1965 which accordingly was one of the biggest victories of Civil Right movement. While watching this movie I could not stop thinking about several things. The most significant impact it had on me was the fact that both my husband and my son, who is now 4 years old, are members of this group that has been ridiculously discriminated through the history and still continues. I could not stop thinking how it is to be a victim of racist prejudices and stereotypes on an everyday basis? Although things have been changed enormously through the history (mostly regulated by laws) there are many instances of insults of all kinds when it comes to basic equality and participation. As a mother of child who is mixed I have been constantly thinking how to best prepare him for the world he would live in and to fight racism that he will have to face. This will be something I will continue thinking and writing about in very close future. Another thing I could not stop thinking about is about white privilege and where it is coming from, especially in this stolen land, taken away from the First Nation people. As a white person, who did not grow up here, in North America, but in South East Europe, I grew up in the worst war after the WWII in Europe, watching what evil nationalism and religion can do and how they can turn people to start killing each other. We all were the same race and yet experienced the worst brutality and genocide on the base of religion. This is how I grew up ... When I first came to America, in the very first form I was filling up, I was asked about my race. There was a word Caucasian there that I never heard before. It is not part of English language learning in my country. We do not even talk about race. I asked for help and while was looked at weirdly I was explained what that means. I learnt that I belong to that box and I had extremely hard time identifying with it. I feel everything except white. My growing up and the privilege of average American, and when I say privilege I do not mean about what somebody has, but what somebody has access to, we could not compare. I could not identify neither compare struggles of me and whites here. I have always been extremely challenged with what people complain and talk about here and what are priorities of people in my and other countries of developing world. To make this shorter ... and as student of social work master program, I was taught and asked that I, as a white person, need to be aware of my privilege and take responsibility while at the same time I had hard time with getting and keeping visa to even stay here. I struggled a lot because I cannot identify with anything white people here are. I do not have any family member before me here in whose name I can apologize for enslaving others or stealing land from First Nations, but I knew wonderfully what means to be oppressed and tortured. The same with my husband, who moved from Africa here in 2007. He never experienced racism in his country. He never was discriminated based on how he looks. He never was looked at down because of the colour of his skin. But topic of slavery became part of him and his identity here. He owns it as I own white privilege. And we found ourselves in those boxes since ... The last thing that resonated with me is that few decades ago our marriage would not be possible. Maybe even not our love. Our beautiful son could not be that easily part of this world and our happiness and whom to love would be strongly impacted with societal norms. Our races would not mix, our cultures would not mix ... We would be victims of awful system. While this is still case in many families this is for sure one privilege we carry with ourselves -- both our families embrace diversity and are happy we are together. What I think matters for them more, I might be wrong, is that religion is same. This is because of nature of problems in countries we are from between Muslims and Christians, Bosnia and Nigeria. To finish this, I do not have anything more to say now except that I am very grateful to all human rights activitists, and people such as Martin Luther King Jr. that lost their lives to make better future for people like me and my husband. Without them, their determination, and sacrifies we would not be happily married today ... Why ... Just because somebody does not like certain skin colour. Times are changing and what is privilege now might not be in the future. World is getting mixed up and I am extremely happy for that.

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27/03/2015 10:58