Say the word “Gypsy” and it evokes numerous responses. The most innocuous being a term conveying one’s love of travel. When referencing a race of people, it often suggests mystery and distrust. It becomes a pejorative that presumes fortune telling, thievery, enchanting, child abducting, pickpocketing and swindles. The word also conjures visions of swarthy autumnal-dressed vagabonds who travel in groups and play stringed instruments while peddling wares across the countryside. Yet the same word, hijacked for profit, is socially acceptable when carved into the titles of clothiers, artisans or other bohemian craft.

It’s unfortunate in modern times that ethnic Roma Gypsies still must bear such flagrant disregard and marginalization of our race and culture.

It’s also unfortunate that we’ve been so accustomed to these acts of discrimination and ignorance that we simply shoulder them in silence. Why? It’s because our kind have been mistreated for generations without recourse. Out of necessity, we’ve learned to seek solidarity in isolation. We fear authority figures due to the horrendous abuses suffered through generations of subsisting in a society that doesn’t want us.

Our kind have suffered for centuries behind a veil of mystery. We are exposed to egregious acts of racism, ignorance and negative assumptions of our lifestyle. These acts fomented our exile from mainstream acceptance and led us to take refuge behind the defenses of our own kind. We have few advocates; none of them possessing the visible heft necessary for puncturing the cocoon of ignorance essential for educating society on the splendor of our unique community.

It’s heartbreaking to watch helplessly as our values die at an alarming speed. Our old-world ways, unable to adapt to the accelerated pace of technological and societal advancement, are being strangled out as we further absorb into the surrounding demographic.

We are a proud sect of individuals who work independently, adore laughter and take pleasure in constant festivities. We speak a distinct Indo-Aryan language and comprise a storied history of superstition and lore while also possessing an unyielding love for all things family.

Ours is a culture where respect is still reserved for those of advanced age. Wisdom doesn’t arrive from the esteem of teenagers but from the mouths of those with decades of experience. We cosset the elderly, shelter them in our homes and grant them a death with dignity among loved ones instead of behind the locked doors of sterile convalescent facilities.

Equally, our young are protected in a manner unparalleled in society. Parents and a broad swath of surrounding family have an innate predisposition that promotes independence, discipline, resilience, strong family ties and a steady physical reassurance for our children. Issues of child abuse are so rare that an incidence would be shocking to our populace, especially given that we enfold our lives around the safeguarding of innocence and the thriving of our offspring.

As with any minority culture, stigmas will always linger. Unscrupulous individuals are obviously found within any populace but the few among our ranks magnifies and enhances the broader public’s impression that all Roma Gypsies are unprincipled. It is a classic case of one bad apple spoiling the bunch, a dreadful reality that my people contend with on a daily basis.

I myself have had myriad personal accounts of these prejudices while growing up, including:

• From a child I endured gadje (non-gypsies) wielding the word “Gypsy” as a weapon of disgrace.
• At 8 years of age, I was harassed, spanked and belittled untold times throughout my third grade term by a teacher who admitted her disgust with my kind.
• I was ambushed, fought and physically harmed by a teacher in high school. After the incident, I was disciplined by the assistant principal and placed in isolation despite being entirely innocent of wrongdoing.
• I was threatened, shoved and escorted out of an auto dealership at 19 for being a “dirty Gypsy” who isn’t allowed on the premises.
• I’ve been accosted by racist aggressors and grew up in fear of local police officers who might beat or harass me like they have multiple other family members.

Such accounts may be surprising to the uninitiated but they were common for my people, and to this day prejudices still exist.

Even now, we are still displayed as undeserving of equal protection from the injustice of biased conjecture. This was proven again recently when a judge in Ogden referenced our entire culture negatively throughout a case that convicted two child murderers. Such an action has spread further disinformation to the public during a time when every other ethnic group is treated with a dignity prior unheard of in American history.

Notwithstanding what the public presumes about my family, I implore every reader to remove the veil of ignorance and open your minds; open your hearts. You will discover a race of people who cling to the vanishing concept of traditional family values, the protection of our children at all costs, the joy of working hard to support our way of life and a desire to be given the dignity to flourish as equals among others.

If, as a race without a motherland of our own, we are finally gifted equality devoid of the specter of fear, then we too may have the chance to avoid the impending extinction of our culture and finally be embraced by a country that not only wants us, but welcomes us home.

Elijah Gray is an ethnic Roma Gypsy. He is a counselor, writer and hang drum performer who advocates for the racial equality of his people.

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