When I speak of racism,
some call it a card I’m playing,
as if my lived experience
were a trick,
a tactic,
a game for winning points.
But this is not a deck I chose.
These stories are cut from skin and memory,
from rooms where jokes landed like blows,
from meetings where my voice was swallowed whole,
from corridors where prejudice walked beside me
and pretended to be professionalism.
To call this “the race card”
is to silence what hurts
and punish what is true.
It is to turn a cry for safety
into an accusation of strategy.
You wouldn’t tell someone
disclosing sexual abuse
that they were “playing the sex card”.
You wouldn’t roll your eyes
at their pain,
ask for proof stamped and sorted,
weigh the seriousness of their scars
against the convenience of your comfort.
So why is racism treated
as an inconvenience to you,
rather than an injury to me?
When you minimise lived experience,
you don’t just deny my story
you deny your responsibility.
And responsibility is the job.
For employers.
For colleagues.
For leaders who promise safety
with the same breath
they use to dismiss it.
Know this:
Reports will be made.
To your managers.
To your HR team.
To the Equality and Human Rights Commission
if your systems choose silence
over safeguarding.
Because I am not a card in your hand.
I am a person,
asking to work/ learn without harm.
And my experience
whether you understand it or not
is evidence.
Evidence that demands action,
not excuses.
So listen.
Believe.
Respond with integrity.
Equality is not optional,
and dignity is not a favour.
Racism is real.
The impact is real.
And pretending this is a game
only reveals who is afraid
of playing fair.