Reflect: On Microaggressions

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Have a think about a time when you were either the receiver of a microaggression or were a witness. Detail some specifics about it along with any feelings or observations about the incident as well as how the incident could have turned out differently

The one I notice most relates to my English, Irish, and Danish background. On the English–Irish side there is a history of bigotry of various kinds. It’s a lot to be associated with, and I understand it reflects old-school thinking. I’m 60, so the seniors in my family come from a different time. Their ideas can be quite outdated. There is really only one aunt left now in her 90s, and we have become quite close in her later years.

When I was my father’s carer, I overheard my aunt speaking to him on the phone. She was unintentionally running me down while praising my brothers, even though both of them were continuing their careers and living in their own homes in other cities. I had changed my life to accommodate my father in his frail older years. She was saying very positive things about my brothers.

Sitting in the kitchen, I unintentionally overheard the way she referred to me. It sounded as though she was asking my father to collude with her against me. Dad was listening quietly, and I indicated that I would like the phone.

I understand my aunt’s view of the world, her politics, and her age. When I took the phone, I explained that I had overheard her comments and felt some sadness, as I had understood our connection to be a positive one. She was incredibly apologetic, walking back her comments. I pointed out the role I was holding in caring for Dad and the differences between my situation and that of my brothers. I expressed that I felt sad, and she agreed, saying she felt sad too. She acknowledged that she hadn’t meant what she said, yet the words had come out anyway.

I also explained that asking Dad to collude in that way placed him in an unfair position, as he relied solely on me for care. We ended the call in a way that felt like a repair.

Afterwards, Dad told me he was glad I had spoken up, referencing times in the past when his sisters hadn’t been kind to Mum. It was quite sweet. I felt teary, as I had genuinely been hurt.

Since my father passed, and even during his final years, my aunt and I became closer. We are now very close. When she comes to Australia from Texas, she stays with me to catch up with my cousins. My home has become a second home for her. She is still set in her ways; however, we have negotiated what we will and won’t discuss. I understand her limitations, and she understands mine.