Yesterday, after a day at work, I decided to go for a nice ride on my bicycle in my neighbourhood.

Riding my bicycle has always been a source of pleasure as it allows my mind wander and reflect on the beauty of the world that surrounds us.

Yesterday was different.

A few minutes into my ride, I encountered denigrating acts of racism directed at me. I did not know the perpetrators of these acts and they didn’t know me – yet they stared at me with hate, repeating racist acts, laughing, and waiting intently to record my reaction.

I looked back at them, and all I saw was a group of young people, and I was confused at why they were directing such hate at me? I was left in complete shock!

As I reflected upon the incident, I wondered why I had been so shocked by what I had encountered. This was not the first time I had experienced something similar.

My mind raced back to times I was accosted with similar direct acts of racism – directed by people old enough to be the parents of those who had engaged in these racist acts.

So why was this incident so shocking to me? I dissected and retraced each moment of this ugly incident and wondered…

Was it because this happened in my neighbourhood – a place that I had mentally idealized and bought a home in?

Was it because I had long associated my bike rides with the beauty of the world surrounding me?

Was it because this was a reminder that those tightly held vernier calibers continue to grip on to colour as judgement is painted?

Or was my shock a realization that this incident was yet another rock shattering a tightly held façade?