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This article is part of a series about racism in Colombia. Read more.

In our modern age, we sometimes have the idea or sensation that the world has evolved and we’re constantly moving forward, but in the midst of a society defined by consumption and development, how true is that?

Since the colonial era, humanity has shown contempt for anything different or new that contradicts ideas of progress based on consumerism and development. Indigenous communities had a slightly higher status than the Black people who had been brought to the continent to work as slaves during this period, but they were certainly no strangers to the barbarism and genocide enacted throughout the American continent.

Author Jhon Fredy Chocue Parra, part of the Semilla 5 cohort, based in the Caribbean coast region of Colombia. Photo taken in el Tabor, la Cumbre Valle del Cauca.

Violence and death in the name of development and democracy still take place today, but now, Indigenous and campesino leaders are the victims, making it impossible to deny the violence and persecution that is directed towards them, and at Afro-descendants and other minorities. Racism and stigmatization are just as present as they were in the age of kings and explorers, when European values were instilled by force into the “savage and uncivilized” Indigenous people of the Americas.

Latin American countries were homogenized in the service of the resource exploitation that nurtured, and continues to nurture, a capitalist, consumerist system. This process required that Indigenous peoples be seen as enemies of so-called “progress,” and to that end they have been described as “savages,” their traditions, beliefs, culture, customs, and cosmovisions discounted or devalued.

One example of this that’s all too common in our day-to-day lives in Colombia is the way we take for granted that to be Indigenous is something undesirable. The act of disparaging our languages is so deeply rooted that we use phrases like “this Indian” to refer to a person who lacks reason or intelligence, the implication being that such expressions are an appropriate description of our communities. In large cities, this prejudice creates environments where Indigenous people lack access to basic opportunities, and where distrust, abuse, and stigma are experienced every day. The experience of Indigenous people in these cities is very different than what a white or mestiza person might experience —an obvious result of racism.

As a descendant of Indigenous peoples, I want to emphasize that the cultures and beliefs of all communities are important. Indigenous communities have formed a significant part of our history and the identity of our country; they nourish our understandings of the land and our relationship to it—and because of this, they contribute enormously to the care of the environment, God’s creation, through their worldviews and the respect they have for Pachamama.

Given all of this, it seems that the progress of large urban centers is negatively correlated to the well-being of Indigenous tribes and cultures. As an Indigenous person, I’ve felt society’s deeply rooted racism—for example, when I was trying to find a job in my home city of Cali. I remember that when I was in college my classmates made jokes out of my last name. Even though were all there for the same reason, to receive an education, the experience was very different for me and for my fellow students with Afro-descendent last names.

But despite all of this, I hope and trust in God that the struggle being carried out by minorities—Indigenous people, Afro-descendants, campesinos, the LGBTQI community, victims of the armed conflict, those who work with the homeless, and those who work against the mistreatment of animals— will bring us to a more equal, inclusive society built on respect and love for everyone around us.

No to racism!


Jhon Fredy Chocue Parra is part of the Seed 5 cohort, based in the community of Pichilín in the Montes de María region and working with MCC partner Sembrandopaz.

Photo above: the author’s grandmother, a member of the Indigenous Paéz people, in Suárez Cuaca on the Agua Negra trail.

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