A patchy Indian / 7 November 2014
Over the last 18 months vitiligo has been in my life. Vitiligo is a condition that causes pale, white patches to develop on the skin due to the lack of a chemical called melanin. Nobody is sure of its cause but it is an autoimmune condition. Maybe I have it because I am always having to fight bullshit.
It puts to bed of nails the stupidity of racism. I will ask Mr Farage and any racist politician: Does the white part of me have more rights and privilege than the brown part of me? Will the white part of my hand be allowed to stay in this country, but my fingers have to leave? It is particularly lovely that when I stick two fingers up, they are both brown and white.
People give me dirty looks, but the dirtiness belongs to them, not me.
Am I less beautiful, should I hate myself more because of it? Should my difference bring me shame? Does this sound familiar to people who are discriminated against or thought of less than? I guess my training has made this less of a thing to worry about.
The only ugliness is in the eye of the beholder and in the paradigms that condition both the eye and the beholder.
Will I ever cover it up? No, unless it makes the shape of a penis on my face. I ain’t fucking stupid.