How Did Officer Catherine Get That Job?

I've been thinking a lot about Mary Jade Catherine lately, a young Mauritian police officer, who was outrageously subjected to abuse online about her appearance, aptitude and origins. The attacks were condemned, whether by the national human rights commission or the commissioner of police himself. The population in general, overwhelmingly showed their support for the 20 year old recruit. All emphasizing human dignity, respect and the boundaries of freedom of expression.

There's one more aspect that I'd like to explore here, a question that was left hanging in the air. A question, though not explicitly addressed, was screaming: How did she even get that job?

And underneath that question sits another one:

Who do we instinctively imagine belongs in certain spaces, institutions and jobs... and who do we still expect to explain how they got there?

Officer Catherine is a Mauritian of African descent. I wonder if the same question would come quite so easily if she looked like someone from the "majority" or a different background? Or if her name, features, skin, hair or origins fitted more comfortably with our inherited image of who looks “legitimate” in a position of authority or within our government institutions?

This is where conversations about racism often become uncomfortable.

We tend to look for racism in its most obvious forms: the insult, the slur, the openly discriminatory acts.

But here it is, thriving through our very assumptions.

Through who we consciously or unconsciously associate with competence.
Who we consider respectable.
Whose qualifications we question.
Whose presence surprises us.
Who is presumed to have earned their place and who is suspected of having somehow been given it or had a "backing".

And when these assumptions repeatedly fall along the same racial, ethnic and historical lines, we are no longer looking at the individual bully online but at something much more deeply engrained in our social fabric.

Mauritius did not emerge through a volcano alone. It emerged through colonisation, slavery, indenture, racial classification, hierarchies of colour, language and proximity to power. These did not disappear because the laws changed or because we changed governance.

History leaves traces. Sometimes those traces are visible in institutions. Sometimes they live in language.

And sometimes they appear in something as seemingly ordinary as:

“How did Officer Catherine get that job?”

Underneath the question, we are doubting her competence, her aptitude and credentials for the job, assuming something based on her appearance. As if our minds couldn't associate Officer Catherine with what competence or public service was "supposed to look like."

The past continues to live through us. And very often, unconsciously. Which makes it more difficult (and uncomfortable) to confront. But it's important. Cause underneath, we are not only saying to Officer Catherine "You don't belong here".

We are saying: "We are surprised that you are there at all."

Decolonising practice begins there. By becoming curious about what we have inherited and examining our ways of seeing one another.

For we continue to shape our institutions and society through our lens.

Every single day.