Racism in Finland

This Saturday, I had the honour to read a few poems at the FIGHT RACISM event at Bar Tÿpo, which featured several anti-racism organizations including Bridge, Helsinki, Rasmus ry, Afars ry, Fem ry, Kulttuurikameleontit ry, Muudi, Finnish African Society, Familia ry and Suomen Maahanmuuttajien liitto ry.

One of the poems I wrote and read was titled Mudface, a racist slur against black people in Finland. I had been thinking a lot about why racist slurs and gestures hurt because they often carry meaning beyond words. After learning about what happened in the UK at the BAFTAs awards, somehow, the poem seems even more relevant beyond Finland. The slurs carry with them a legacy of violence and discriminatory systems.

Mudface:

I would laugh at your slurs

If the teachers didn’t believe them

that because of this skin, I am somehow limited,

 that I belong only to trade school

and I can’t be your doctor or poet or president

I would laugh at your slurs

If Human Resources didn’t believe them

that because of this melanin, I am somehow not good enough

as if skin has anything to do with skill

I would laugh at your slurs

If you did not make policies against me

As if my tax euros were less than yours

And my life, lesser than yours

I would laugh at your nonsense

If it didn’t seep into the daycares,

You swear you don’t see colour,

So, our children are invisible to you,

yet you treat them different anyway

I would laugh at your foolishness

when you call me mudface

or slant your eyes

If you did not spit on me in the streets

Or stab me with a knife

I would laugh,

but there is nothing funny about hate.

But of course, talking about racism and racial slurs in 2026 comes with exhaustion. We are in 2026 not 1956, why are we still so backwards? So, I also read Tired, which is truly how I feel.

Tired

I am supposed to talk about racism in Finland

but I do not have enough energy to rage.

I am exhausted,

Seen too many children die, lately

in Palestine, the empire devours, and there are no jedi in sight

Mass murderers run free, with barely a slap on their wrists

Nothing I feel seems important in comparison

I cannot cry over eyes following my every move in the store

Or your curved quivering lip

when I laugh a little loud in the train,

I know you curse me in your head,

think me rude, or whatever,

that I am supposed to know my place

how dare I walk on the edge of your sacred ski track,

it is not my road, damn it!

But don’t I know it?

I have learned to shrink myself,

fold the space around me into a tunnel

and squeeze everything that screams presence

or other into it,

leave the whole road for you

push myself to the very edge, nearly sink into the pile of snow.

You, too, have learned some kind of restraint

how to bite your lip

and resist the urge to push me out of the way

until later

when your fingers itch for release

you dump your hate-filled venom on the brown skinned Lucia’s page

not caring she is your own daughter’s age

you vomit the slurs you held in your belly

wash up your face

 kiss your children goodnight and sleep like a baby.

It is exhausting

to live in a world so unequal,

so unfair.

that cradles monsters and cages children,

cater to racists and blame their victims

why must I be the one

to walk on eggshells

accommodate ignorance

fix my face, and hold my tongue

smile, but not too much,

be nothing

shrink

preach, bleach

plead for you to see, that, I too bleed

the same red.

Maybe another day

I will burn the sage

and bring a guru to teach you humanity,

but today, I am tired,

so, I curse you

You, who want my black invisible, silent, small, grateful

my brown, beige,

my light, dim,

my soul, dead, blended in the winter grey.

Take your stupid, and flush it down the toilet,

it is not my responsibility to make you better

somethings, you must learn for yourselves

And until you catch up to my brilliance,

I will be here, in all my shades,

living however I damn well please.

It is impossible to talk about racism in Finland without touching on Xenophobia. So, I read Thirty Years from my Songs of the Lupine collection.

The people who gathered at the event were people who truly didn't like racism. So, I felt that I wanted to say something encouraging as well. So, I also wrote (and read) an impromptu poem fueled by the energy in the room.

Hope is like a pair of socks

easy to lose one

in the drawers where anger festers,

So, we must

bring our songs

fists

and

faith

that the world can be cured

of hate,

Sit among those

willing to shed skin

and see the human underneath,

those 

willing to fight

for a more just world

If you are in Finland, please help the fight against racism by signing this petition: https://www.adressit.com/loppu_rasismille_yhdessa_vahvempia