At the weekend I started watching Louis Theroux’s series of documentaries, circa 2003 that gave us the likes of ‘Louis Theroux and the brothel’ and ‘Louis Theroux and Michael Jackson’. It was a camera quality disaster, filmed with all the enthusiasm of what seemed like an amateur production but with an interview style from Theroux that made you want to give a shit about what he said. It was the type of comedy genius often seen in Fawlty Tower’s. The awkwardness. The totally British clumsiness that can only ever be pulled off with a totally British accent. All in front of unsuspecting American’s that had no clue how to take him. Brilliant. Just brilliant.
That was until, ‘Louis Theroux and the Nazi’s’ happened. The clues in the title. LT spent a number of weeks with a few different American Neo-Nazi’s from the most ‘dangerous’ racist in the US to a Mother home schooling / outwardly indoctrinating her eleven year old twin daughters to be openly racist. These individuals can only be described as disgusting human beings. They oozed a kind of hate that was both sad and terrifying. Those poor little girls had access to only racist magazines (published and distributed by ‘skin heads’) and were groomed by their Mother to create a band named after the gas used to poison Jews in the holocaust and were encouraged to sing racist songs on stage at Nazi rallies. Not only that, their Mother only let them listen to Neo-Nazi bands which only served to surround them with hate. They had access to only one video game called ‘ethnic cleansing’ which involved shooting black people. All followed up by a sweet jig around a swastika and a Nazi salute from blonde hair and blue eyes.
By the end of it I felt physically sick. At one point, I was on the verge of tears.
But there was one point in the episode where the most ‘dangerous’ racist in the US (at this point I have to let you know that he is a 50 year old bald man, that wears socks and sandals) was showing LT one of his most favourite CD’s. Of course the album cover was completely inappropriate and outwardly referenced black slavery. His wife looked on whilst she smiled and played with the dog.
LT asked the man’s wife whether she found it shocking that her husband would not only have, but like such a thing. To which she simply replied, ‘no I don’t find it shocking’.
I found myself hating her more than him. It was almost as if something inside me blew, despite all of the things I had seen in the documentary so far. Despite seeing this man preaching racist hate at rallies. Despite seeing the magazine he printed and distributed to fellow Nazis. Despite his open racism and the way he threw the N word around like it was going out of fashion. Despite his T-shirt that read ‘some people are simply alive because it’s illegal to kill them’. And despite his ridiculous wardrobe choices. I hated her more. Why?
Let’s move over to the psychotic Mother who was indoctrinating her children. I HATED her even more than racist sandal man’s wife. To me she was the devil. The world has no room for people like her. Her hate made me hate her and that made me hate her even more. My face got all hot and I was really, really mad. But her Father, who was 10 times worse than her in too many ways, who indoctrinated her in the same way when she was small too – I didn’t hate him as bad. I hated him, of course. But as bad? Not in that moment.
So why…? Why despite these men doing what can be considered as ‘worse’ things than the females, did I continue to hate the females more?
Because they’re women of course. I couldn’t stand to see a woman (who should be the moral and societal pillar of motherhood) be SUCH an evil person. These women were Mothers. They should love everybody and care for everybody and nurture them. Because that’s what women do. It’s in their ‘nature’. And the moment they went along with these hateful views, they weren’t the generic stereotype anymore. In fact, the stark contrast made them worse.
I recognised this train of thought happening in my head and suddenly remembered that I’m still human. It’s why Myra Hindley was viewed completely differently to Ian Brady and it’s why we still continue to talk about what actresses are wearing rather than their talent. Gender stereotypes still very much affect the way we think and act daily. Even when I have very strong opinions around gender equality, not just in day-to-day HR but also in my personal life, it can get us all without realising. And here I was, doing exactly the thing I hate… stereotyping women whilst watching a documentary on barbaric racism.
Here’s the thing. It’s easier said than done. Even the most dedicated feminists will slip up from time to time and subconscious thoughts will come creeping in that can affect the way we think, see things and therefore react. As much as we hate to admit it, society influences our thinking but the one thing we can do, is be aware of it.
Am I as bad as those people for letting my up-bringing influence my opinions? Absolutely not. Those people do not deserve a place in society. But it does make you realise that there’s certainly no hope for those poor little girls. They will never fully get away from what they’ve been exposed to. And that in itself is terrifyingly sad.
So after I had all of those thoughts, I decided to continue hating all of the racists… But I would hate all of them equally.
Not The Evil HR Lady 