I FIRST suspected that the Malaysia I was brought up in – one where my Indian “aunty” and Malay “nenek” were no different from my Chinese blood relatives – was quite far-removed from reality when I entered a local university as a freshman more than 20 years ago.

On the surface, it was the ideal picture of a harmonious multicultural Malaysia, one where the races intermixed and shared their lives, seemingly breaking down stereotypes and misconceptions.

But one didn’t need to dig much deeper to find it was really all just, well, surface-level.

While we attended classes in the same study halls, sat next to each other in the library and ate in the same canteen, it didn’t take long to notice that there was actually very little assimilation.

With some minor exceptions, each race tended to eat together, hang-out together and form study groups together. Even within the same race, there was segregation. For the ethnic Chinese students, those who went to vernacular schools organised their own gatherings while those who were educated in government schools were left out.

Things were even worse when I came out into the real world as a starry-eyed journalist.

With some rare exceptions from perhaps the Bangsar-type crowds, the majority of Malaysians may share the same space but we hardly actually co-exist.

The problem starts from our childhoods, where an increasing number of Malaysians have lost faith in and have turned away from national schools, where there is at least some level of interracial interaction.

It takes years of living, playing, fighting, crying and laughing with someone to really know and understand that person. If so many of our children will not have that privilege of sharing their life experiences with a person from another race, culture or religion, how is it that we expect them to grow up into adults who suddenly feel totally at ease with someone who is not like them and does not even speak the same language as them?

As adults with already a very shallow understanding of our fellow Malaysians from other races, the barrage of lies and racial rhetoric from our former leaders only served to deepen the fracture within our society.

From Umno general assemblies – which are blackholes into which all respect for minority communities disappear – to Malay-nationalist rallies, Malaysia’s ethnic minorities have been called ‘pendatang’ and ungrateful migrants, and painted as usurpers of the sacred but rather ambiguous “Malay rights”.

Never mind that it has never been clear exactly what rights have ever been threatened, the adults of today have been told that it’s acceptable for nationalistic bigots to spew filthy, racist epithets and get away with it.

While the ethnic minority Malaysians of my generation have come to accept and tolerate the seasonal attacks and threats made against us, it has left many of us bitter, hurt and unwilling to trust those whom our attackers claim to represent.

The racism also doesn’t just stem from ultra-Malay nationalists and politicians – leaders from ethnic minorities have their share of the guilt to bear.

The insecurities of minority groups have long been fanned by politicians and educationists carrying the same message – if we don’t stick together, they’ll snuff us out.

Is it any wonder then that Malaysians have become suspicious of each other, and remain intent on championing their own community’s interests even if it’s at the expense of another?

Considering the fact that even in the May 9 general election, race still played a major role in determining the victors, is it really any wonder that we are today racist, even if we deny it.

Is it also any wonder then that after almost 55 years of becoming Malaysia, too many of us still don’t actually know or understand our fellow Malaysians?

But just as we cannot undo the past, we musn’t use it as an excuse to remain at the toxic present we now find ourselves at.

It’s hard to trust each other when we’ve been told almost all our lives that our neighbours are out to get us at any sign of weakness.

But trust is what we have to start with if we ever want to reverse the damage that has been done to our society these past few decades.

History has shown us that political adversity, economic strife and even social chaos has never been enough to keep Malaysians down for long.

May 9 was only the beginning of our road to recovery. Every step we take from here on will decide if we are to forever remain prisoners of our past, or charters of a better future. – August 1, 2018.

* Julia Yeow has been in journalism for two decades and counts it as her first love, despite enjoying brief stints as a lecturer, clown and salad maker. She is a strong believer in social justice, and holds that there is sometimes more truth in the greys, than the blacks and whites.

* This is the opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of The Malaysian Insight. Article may be edited for brevity and clarity.