The build in racism in the Swedish system is just one of many problems in Sweden. Sweden made me feel less worth carrying my anchesters surname. They made me know I was less worth than a Swede. They mocked me for my surname. Not just that. They still mock me for my firstname, those that cannot read it. Some do it since they have dyslexia, other’s do it on purpose, some because they don’t know English. The sounds and connections to letters is different in Swedish, English and other languages. Therefor a English firstname is difficult for those that cannot read English. My firstname is English. My surname was another European language. That name no other than people from my parents country could read right. I just wished they had tried to read it as good as they could. But instead they invented names to mock me with, to ridiculate my lastname. That is what the Swedish kids did in school. They mocked me and gave me a male first name and a mocking version of my surname. They didn’t do that to the Swedish kids.
When I called employers for summer jobs, they where nice as long as I didn’t tell ’em my surname. Then they recommended me to search for other summer jobs, since they would have many applicants. The attitude changed when the surname was said.
Swedes made me feel less worth all my childhood. All over society. They made me think of a change of my surname from ages 11 already. It took me seven years before my mother married a man with a Swedish surname. I took his name. I carry the name of my stephfather. I don’t mind. It made my life a little easier. But I was still brought up by foreigners. I still hang around in other classes than Swedes after school. With foreigners mostly, except one of my friends that was Swedish in the younger years. Many in my childhood had different origin. I lived in what we today consider a Ghetto just like Rinkeby. But I lived in a city with a lot of foreigners. They came there to work in the Swedish factories.
Major parts of my family live in my hometown, here in Sweden. They are immigrants and children and grandchildren and even grandchildrens children. They all live here. We are talking four generations and Sweden still manages me to not feel valued. I am still trash. I don’t think it will ever change. This depends on the structural racism in all of Sweden.
Sweden is full of “tolerance”, but really, there is not. The Swedes are high in hierachy. I am married to a Swede. Has no problems in finding a job. No problems in fitting in. I have. I am considered odd. I don’t like being considered odd. I just wish to be accepted as I am. I think Sweden doesn’t accept. The norms in Sweden are a special kind. No other country in the world is “lagom”, or even uses that word, there is no translation. That says a lot about a country.
I am brought up in Sweden. I lived here most of my life. I lived in Norway too.
Sweden made me feel I needed to hide my inheritage. Hide my origin. Try to blend in. I never could blend it. I could hide my origin. I even changed my surname. I even added a new firstname, that is more “Swedish”, that I also could use. I actually did one period. Those that know me from then use that name. I use it online sometimes. I used it a lot online actually. It is my legal name, no wrong in that.
Well, Swedish people made me change my name. Swedish people made me feel less valued. Swedish people mocked me for my names. Swedish people still value me less. I am not as them. I never wanted to be either. That is the irony of it all. I always wanted the right to be me. Look what Sweden did to me. They froze me out. I have been bullied, frozen out and mocked all my life. Nobody has ever cared. Nobody cares. In Sweden we all mind our own buisness. True and false at the same time. A complicated country. I don’t like Sweden. But I live here. My family lives here. I still cannot comply to being Swedish. I still just cannot. I don’t like Sweden in more ways than one. I don’t like they think they are so awsome. They have issues. Still nothing happens. People just talk, talk, talk. Everything looks nice on paper.
The fact is: Swedes made me feel insecure about my inheritage and my surname. I complied and hid it. I don’t know. Should I change my name back? I don’t like my surname that I had… still sticks. But I feel like I should use that name, but not rename myself to it. It is a difficult name. Not many can say it out load and say it right. Well. Sometimes I wonder if it would be better to be the name I once had. I don’t know. What ever I do, nobody seems to like it.