Jackie Summers has identified the most troubling thing about racism these days: no one ever admits to being racist.
I’m 17 years old. I’m visiting the home of my friend Chris in Staten Island. We read comics, and his mom makes us peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cut diagonally. The next day, someone paints on his garage–in big red letters–”nigger lover.”
This is not the most racist thing that has ever happened to me.
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I’m 28. I’m working on Wall St., in the energy sector. It’s 10 A.M. and I’m just settling into the stack of reports requiring my attention. The news sweeps through the office like a tsunami: OJ Simpson, not guilty. The Senior Analyst of the Oil and Gas group comes up to my desk and asks, “Is it okay for white people to start looting now?”
This is not the most racist thing that has ever happened to me.
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I’m 30 years old. My date looks like she put on her dress with a spray-can. We’ve finished playing pool, and now we’re having a drink at a pub. Her mouth is writing sweet, filthy promises that I believe her body has every intention on cashing. The large burly gent next to us seems to be having a good time as well; so good in fact that he–quite accidentally–bumps into my date. Her gin and tonic splashes all over her new dress, ruining it, and the mood.
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“You goddamned, stupid, fucking nigger” he spews. “Do you have any idea where you are!?” He’s drunk and angry and looking for trouble. It’s clear I’m about to get some action, just not the kind I had in mind.
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I tap “Burly” on the shoulder. “I see you’re having a good time with your friends,” I say, “and I don’t want to interrupt. But you–accidentally–bumped into my date, and spilled her drink all over her new dress. I’d appreciate it if you apologized.”
“You goddamned, stupid, fucking nigger” he spews. “Do you have any idea where you are!?” He’s drunk and angry and looking for trouble. It’s clear I’m about to get some action, just not the kind I had in mind.
A minute later and the five of us are outside: myself, my date–who just wants to go home and is cowering behind me–Burly, and two of his friends. “Okay you stupid fucking nigger” he shouts, “what are you going to do now? There are three of us, and one of you.”
“This is easy” I say, pointing at his friends. “I can either beat all three of you up, or I can just beat HIM up. You two are free to go.”
His friends–who’ve clearly been pressed into “take-care-of-our-drunk-loudmouth-friend” service before–apply the better part of valor, and leave. While I’m taking off my coat, Burly throws a haymaker in my direction. My martial arts training kicks in; thirty seconds later and I’m sitting on his back, his wrist–agonizingly twisted the wrong way–in one hand, and a fistful of ginger hair in the other. He’s spitting venomous epithets at me when it occurs to me that, should a police officer wander upon the scene, I’m likely going to jail, despite not being the aggressor. I end the fight and leave.
This is not the most racist thing that’s ever happened to me.
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I’m 32 years old. I’ve just left my car–a canary yellow 1972 Buick Skylark convertible–at my mechanic in the Bronx. I’m walking to the subway when three police cars screech to a stop around me. Six officers jump out of their cars–guns drawn–and suddenly I’m trying to think clearly enough to answer the questions that are being yelled at me as my legs are kicked apart and my face is shoved into a wall.
I’m calm. I’m polite. I think of the (then) recently deceased Amadou Diallo, and curb my genetic tendency towards sarcasm. The officers check my identification and make sure there are no warrants for my arrest. After it’s been determined that my story checks out, I ask the officer closest to me why I was stopped. He tells me that I “matched the description of a suspect,” and as he answers, he notices me taking note of his badge number.
Without explanation, I’m handcuffed, unceremoniously stuffed into the back of a police car, and taken to Central Booking, otherwise known as “the Tombs.” I descend a staircase deeper than the pits of Avernus and am placed into a holding cell. It’s unclear if I am being arrested; in fact I’m never told what’s going on. There’s a phone but it’s out of order. Four hours go by. I’m surrounded by genuinely dangerous people, who for reasons beyond my comprehension, are leaving me completely alone.
Eight hours pass. By now I’ve missed work. Twelve hours after I drop my car off at my mechanic, an officer comes down with a stack of papers and begins to call off names. I’m being released; apparently no charges were filed against me. My property and my freedom are returned. I receive no explanation and no apology.
This is not the most racist thing that’s ever happened to me.
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The wonderful part about the experiences I just described is their overtness. Once, racism was men in hoods burning a cross on your lawn. It was separate entrances and separate water fountains and the back of the bus, and if people didn’t know their place, it was okay to remind them who’s in charge. The great thing about those folks was: at least you knew where you stood. A man with a noose has clear intentions, about as easy to spot as a harvest moon on a clear autumn night. In a best case scenario, with a bit of discretion, you could avoid these people entirely. In a worst case scenario, you could at least defend yourself.
The problem with today’s racism is: nobody ever actually admits to being a racist. Refusal to acknowledge a problem is in fact, tacit compliance.
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Modern racism is the insidious undercurrent that keeps classism aloft. It’s city planning that isolates certain neighborhoods, depriving them of civil services. It’s public schools in “low income neighborhoods” with overcrowded classrooms and dangerously outdated facilities. It’s the bank loan for the new business that you don’t get even though your credit is good, because you’re “high risk.” It’s using Jay-Z, Oprah, and Michael Jordan as examples to prove race-based income disparity no longer exists.
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Modern racism is the insidious undercurrent that keeps classism aloft. It’s city planning that isolates certain neighborhoods, depriving them of civil services. It’s public schools in “low income neighborhoods” with overcrowded classrooms and dangerously outdated facilities. It’s the bank loan for the new business that you don’t get even though your credit is good, because you’re “high risk.” It’s using Jay-Z, Oprah, and Michael Jordan as examples to prove race-based income disparity no longer exists.
If overt racism is a noose, institutionalized racism is carbon monoxide: just as lethal but more pervasive and far harder to detect.
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My best friend in the world happens to be an insanely wealthy, drop dead gorgeous blonde. Not long ago, I was conversing with her husband about a recent case in Auburn, Washington, where a (black) man was arrested for attempting to deposit a bank check made out to him. “Your wife,” I said, “has walked into a bank, kindly explained to a teller that she’d forgotten her identification, and walked out with pockets full of cash.”
“That’s true” he said, “but you can ride the subways at 3 A.M. and not have to worry about being attacked.”
“That’s probably true,” I conceded. “Want to trade?”
♦◊♦
Touré, a novelist, journalist, MSNBC personality, and contributing editor at Rolling Stone, currently has an essay on The Atlantic entitled “The Most Racist Thing That Ever Happened to Me.” Unsurprisingly–at least to me–when 105 interviewees were posed this question, the most common response was, “the answer is unknowable.”
I’m wont to agree.
A brief perusal of the comments sees the vitriol this topic provokes rise to caustic levels. The (perceived) anonymity of the Internet emboldens cowards; opinions are frequently expressed online that would otherwise never see the light of day. Personally, I try to avoid engaging such individuals in pointless argument. As my Mom would say, “Never wrestle with the pig. You both get filthy, but the pig enjoys it.”
Instead, I’ll simply ask: what’s the most racist thing that’s ever happened to you?
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—Photo Daviniodus/deviantart.com
About Jackie Summers
Jackie, I wanted to thank you for this. When people tell stories, just tell the stories, without hatred or anger, and let the reader form his or her own insights, something amazing happens. Like all great storytelling, this post changed me. And such a great demonstration of who you are, as a person, as a man. Kudos.
@Lisa-
Yes the stories are compelling, but the point is that so often racism DOESN’T come with a story. It’s the daily microagresssions that lack narrative that drive modern prejudice.
Totally agree Katelin — and thanks for pointing that out. I do get caught up in the stories because that is my (our) way of making sense of the world. But I absolutely got Jackie’s point that it is the “racism without the stories” that needs to be addressed. We will continue to do so.
Brava!
Lisa, holding onto the anger would dilute the ability to learn the lesson and move beyond. GOOD stories have power; people will remember the moral long after the protagonists are lost to antiquity.
JFB
The most racist thing to happen to me assuming that I need or want “white” America to apologize. There have been a lot of great debates about race on this site and this hit home. i don’t need help, or special treatment, but somehow being called a racist has become worse than being a racist.
Well done. Well done.
Pretending that racism is over and done with, and no longer affects people in unfair ways is a travesty. I think that those of us who have been victims of it must acknowledge that it still exists, draw attention to it, but help young people to succeed in spite of it – as others have done.
Eric, I agree 100%: if we teach young people differently, perhaps a new generation will be born that has BETTER THINGS to fight over. Seriously, as a species, we”ve got to be smarter than this.
JFB
I wouldn’t even know where to start. Walking near my college campus and having “Nigger!” yelled from a car? A company email that went out and asked that none of dress too “gangsta” for upcoming company photos? Being told I hate white people because I wear my hair naturally? Or being around the people who simply refuse to acknowledge that I’m in the room, because my very presence makes them uncomfortable.
I don’t know which is more racist. I’ve spent much of my college career, coming from a predominately black high school to a predominately white university, trying to understand how some people believe racial disparities don’t exist and why it’s so hard for some people to talk about these things.
Good Men Project has done a stellar job of promoting these conversations. I’m enthralled and so happy people are talking about these things. Please continue. Don’t let this be “Oh, that one time we discussed race.” Because none of us are living in a world where race only matters sometimes.
Ashely, I’m deeply saddened to hear of these experiences. I wish I could tell you to expect better as you enter corporate life, but I can’t. You will face racism AND sexism and I hope it is through conversations like this we can address the problems at a root level, and find better ways to coexist.
JFB
Ashley — we are with you on this — we absolutely want this to be an ongoing conversation and not a “ta-da, we’ve done our part”. In fact, I would invite you or any of the other commenters here to write posts of your own so we can continue the conversation with different voices, with different ways into the conversation. Email me at lisa@goodmenproject.com if interested — that invitation is open to any of our commenters.
Thank you for this article.
I find the biggest barrier to modern racial education for white folks is their tendency to believe that racism is all about burning crosses and hate crimes. They figure, as long as they’re not yelling epithets, then they’re fine. They are too blind to the institutionalize system of privileges they enjoy–and cling vehemently to.
Thanks again. Will def pass along on our weekly link round up.
Katelin, we are trying to have difficult conversations here on GMP. I believe the term you’re referring to about the small offenses is “micro-inequities.” Time did a piece on it here:
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1172212,00.html
My question to you is: what barriers do black people face in attempting to include white, asian, latin and native Americans in the conversation about racism?
JFB
Yes! I am very familiar with that concept, though have always used the sociological term ‘microaggression’ (Sue et al, 2006): http://tiny.cc/e8r5a. From what I can tell they characterize similar phenomena, yes?
As to your question, yikes! Complicated! I will speak to the barriers to conversation with white folks since that is what I am most familiar. The problem I encounter is the utter silence among white folks about race (http://tiny.cc/wgl0z). We never talk about it negatively OR positively.
The temptation is then to think that because it is never talked about, that the problems no longer exist. Then we become surprised and indignant when informed of the reality to the contrary. Through our silence, we are allowed believe that ‘colorblindness’ is the ideal, rather than part of the problem. From this silence (and therefore lack of education), come innumerable missteps, which then ratchet up tensions during dialogue for justice and reconciliation.
Knowing this, my strategy has been to increase the visibly of healthy racial discussion among white folks, and to attempt to educate white-to-white in a manner that may forestall some of the classic hurtful statements of ignorance that occur during interracial discussion.
This is where I am, anyway. Your thoughts?
Lastly, #BTSF Friday Round Up is now out: http://awe.sm/5Vahj. I will be talking you up throughout the day on Twitter (@StrngeFruit).
I love your writing Jackie. Love it. This was stellar.
And regarding your question, I have to answer “not applicable.” I’m a white, middle class guy living in the suburbs. I have not ever dealt with racism. I’m sure that makes me spoiled and it certainly means I see things with rose-colored glasses. Because I’ve never witnessed racism up close it’s tough—actually, impossible—for me to know how it affects someone like yourself. While reading the descriptions of some of the things that have happened to you, I have to admit it’s a little hard to believe. I’m not calling you a liar, I’m just saying it’s beyond my comprehension and experience that something like that would happen to a person.
Regardless, I’m looking forward to more of your pieces. Truly great stuff.
Aaron, thank you. I have much respect for your work here on GMP. Your contributions to what makes a good man make the conversation worth having.
The funny part about this is: it applies to everyone. Racism supports classism, and class warfare precedes actual warfare. Sooner or later, the problem you think doesn’t affect you shows up on your doorstep.
The best handling I’ve EVER seen of what it feels like was done by the good folks at South Park. If you’ve got a few minutes, take the time to check this out:
http://www.southparkstudios.com/full-episodes/s11e01-with-apologies-to-jesse-jackson
JFB
Racism also supports sexism. People won’t admit to being sexist anymore.
funny thing i was married to a white guy who physically verbally mentally abused me for 16 years YET a year ago I started a relationship with a wonderful man who i the love of my life, we will grow old together, he treats me like a princess, opens doors, takes me to the finest places to eat, buys my daughters gifts just because he can!! We live in seperate cities die to business if he cant get to me he brings me to him. My sister died he came to be with me he offered his credit card to pay for the wake and any expenses (I declined) people dont see that they just see color! even been told its just not right!! We get stares, snide comments I dont get it~~~~~My assistant is a twin her twin boyfriend white her boyfriend black the twins man beat her, stalked her, went awol from the army. Her boyfriend attends an elite college, volunteers is the model person. her parents love him her gramma NO WAY cant bring him home. I was raised to respect all cultures i raised my children the same YET my sister is the biggest racist I know thankfully this did NOT rub off on her son!!! why is this still happening?!?!?!?!?
Kaycee, that is a great question. Much credit–good or bad–goes to parenting, but every child has their own unique genetic predisposition. There’s no telling why one child raised in the same house by the same parents turns out so differently. It is only on us to raise any children we bring into the world with this awareness, and attempt to give them the tools they need to conquer the problems we’ve left for them.
JFB
A lot of “nature versus nurture” arguments founder on this. But it’s not only parents, it is the peer group that has a strong influence on people’s opinions. Some peer groups can be particularly toxic.
The peer group effect is especially strong when you’re at an age where you’re trying to differentiate yourself from your parents.
It can be for the good, too. Kids whose parents are overtly racist often find friends who are not racist or are of another race and learn better. There is hope!
Jackie thanks for this gut-wrenching piece. I agree with you. My parents risked their lives during the summer of 1964 in Mississippi to combat the overt racism of the South of that time. I just find it so frankly bizarre that as a country we were ultimately able to rally around civil rights as a cause and yet were unable to follow through on the promise. In many ways the brutal facts of racism today are just are bad, but no one really wants to hear it. “We solved that problem already,” is the response. I talk about prison a lot because to me it’s the end result of the current system of poverty, education, and family life that is separate and unequal. When I say there are 2.3 million men in prison, over half minority a common response I get is, “they deserve it. they did the crimes. they are guilty.”
Honestly, I view this whole complex of issues as far more important to our national security than hunting bad guys in the middle east. We have to deal with race and poverty in our country or we are going to implode. The smart affluent guys I know fall into two camps: the Warren Buffet types who are ready to admit that this isn’t fair and we have to fundamentally change the system and the guys who are preparing for the battle ahead by buying guns, gold, and land in New Zealand. Unfortunately I know more who are preparing for battle than those ready to see that even completely selfishly the only way forward is to admit how unfair the current system is.
What’s the most racist experience I have ever had? Walking through Sing Sing, hallway after hallway of bars and cells and concrete, just like out of some horror film, and seeing almost all black and brown faces. It brought tears to my eyes.
Tom, you’re one of the good guys; willing to be occasionally crucified for calling attention to gross social inequity. What your folks did was not in vain; without their efforts I might not be able to express this voice today. We do still have quite far to go.
While I absolutely believe those who break the law should suffer its stated consequences, the cost of education is SIGNIFICANTLY LESS than the cost of incarceration. I’m not saying there should be a reward for those who commit crimes; there will always be a criminal element to society. I believe we could drastically reduce our inmate population through redistributing resources currently slated towards punishment towards education.
As for the people buying guns for the upcoming class war I submit this parable: One man compliments another on what a fine house he owns, and what beautiful, resourceful land it’s on. “I’d love to live here” he says. The second man thanks him. “I appreciate your kind words” he says, “but you can’t live here. This house and this land have been in my family for generations.” The first man, curious, asks how the second man’s ancestors came to be in possession of such a fine piece of property. The second man answers “My great-grandfather fought for this land.”
The first man responds “Great, I’ll fight YOU for it, right now.”
JFB
Very funny/sad Jackie. One of these guys, who literally takes massive amounts of drugs every night because he is so anxious, recently sent me cartoon. In it one neighbor had put up a sign which read, “I have a shitload of guns don’t fuck with me.” Then there is a big arrow pointing to the next door neighbor’s house and the sign continues, “But this idiot has none.”
I find the fear/panic/hatred of those who are part of the 1/2% who have profited while the world has not to be intellectually just fascinating to watch. I don’t understand it. But it’s palpable. And truly sad.
Tom, what is sad is: fear of scarcity impacts those who have the most to lose. When those who have nothing to lose go against those who have everything to lose, it’s like the force of stones on eggshells. There weren’t enough guillotines to cull the French Revolution, and god forbid, there will not be enough bullets to stop class warfare, should it erupt.
I am glad you don’t understand it, you’re a special agent working on the inside for change. At the end I’m left with my father’s words: Do what good you can in the world, and teach the children well.
JFB
But Tom, we also have to deal with sexism and poverty. I find it quite irritating that you don’t point out the parallels between racism and sexism.
The most racist thing that ever happened to me was when a black woman working at Walmart ran her cart into my body and then called me a racial epitaph because I dared to be white in a predominantly black community. I had not done anything to her – in fact, I didn’t even notice she was there until she was ramming her cart into my back. I had not done anything to anyone, I was just shopping. But I was white, so I was a target.
This was quite the learning experience for me, coming from an area where little to no racially motivated crime occurs, and then being moved to the South by the military to an area where we would threatened and assaulted just for being there.
Another event was when I was babysitting my (white) friend’s (black) son. He and I were sitting in the lobby of my daughter’s dance class waiting for her when a group of black women came in and began calling me nigger lover and various other terms for (apparently) having a mixed race child. My son’s friend burst into tears (he was 4) and I said to him, don’t worry dear, ignorance isn’t catching.
Surprisingly, being a white woman, I have been the victim of racism many times. I don’t care what race anyone is, but I will say that I haven’t experienced racism from any group except black people, and then almost exclusively women. I would like to chalk it up to the fact that women tend to be nasty to other women anyway, but it strikes me that if a group of people want to stand up and say they should be treated equally, they really ought to make an effort to treat OTHERS well.
Kathy, this sickens me. It does not, unfortunately, surprise me that you have been a victim of racism. It respects no color boundary; bigots come in all colors. You are correct; injustice never justifies more injustice.
I believe the cure for ignorance is compassion. We are long on the former in this world, and far too short on the latter.
JFB
Your last sentence is based on a fallacy. The people here standing up to ask that they be treated equally are not the woman who ran into you with a grocery cart in Wal*Mart or the women who made comments to your friend’s child.
A “you first” mentality isn’t going to help anyone. The people here aren’t hypocrites asking for understanding while slapping you in the face. Two (or a dozen) wrongs don’t make a right.
I was severely beaten by 5 black guys, called a ‘cracker’ and various other things because I happened to look up and catch the eye of some young black kid with a chip on his shoulder. I hadn’t said a word, hadn’t known I’d done anything wrong but it got me jumped and beaten, kicked in the head and robbed.
Anon, I hope the guys who jumped you BURN IN HELL.
I know this is no consolation, but I can’t tell you the amount of times I was in race riots while attending public school. If anyone has any ideas how we STOP THE CYCLE OF VIOLENCE, now would be the time to chime in.
JFB
Jackie, thanks for this heartfelt essay.
Kurt, it’s my hope that if we share real stories based on our experiences, we can douse the flames of ignorance with the waters of compassion.
JFB
Hey Jackie,
Great article. I’m really happy to have discovered your work. I, too, believe in the power of storytelling and since you asked about others’ experiences with racism, I’ll share just one such experience: being physically charged, without provocation, by an enraged neighbor wielding a lead pipe who threatened to kill my white motherfucking ass and my wife’s white motherfucking ass and our two children, as well (one of whom was two weeks old – that was a good time, and it actually happened twice over the course of a week). Those of us, of any race, who have spent enough time amongst different races, certainly have a litany of such stories to tell of racism, both overt and subtle. Racism is common throughout humanity, though I agree that there is a key distinction with regard to race in America:
While racism has adversely affected my life on an anecdotal level, on numerous occasions, nothing has limited my freedom in any meaningful way nor has it handicapped my experiences as a student or a professional or a citizen. The failure to recognize this distinction remains a key obstacle to progress. Part of the problem in recognizing this is so often the starting point for such discussions are with white people having to accept their privilege, denounce their racial identity or accept blame for the sins of American history. While there is validity for this requirement, the very idea of mandating someone’s self-incrimination, as a starting point, is a tough sell and, in many cases, prevents the meaningful conversation from even beginning and jump starts those ugly internet exchanges you and I (and many others) abhor.
An alternative to this model is the example of storytelling, which so informed your provocative article. The narrative art form allows for insight and empathy without burdens placed upon the audience. Storytelling allows for reflection at one’s own pace. We need more of it, from storytellers in all forms from all races. I, for one, am already on board.
Best Regards,
Andrew
Andrew, I read this and all I could think was: what the hell is wrong with people?! You give evidence once again that no sole group owns the rights on racism; every shade of the rainbow is capable of producing racist assholes.
I believe you’re right: a powerful narrative can evoke empathy and self-reflection without indicting mass groups of individuals. I laud you for having the courage to share your story.
Jackie
Toure – thank you for the very well written article. You are a pleasure to read.
My own thoughts are that nearly all “overt” occurrences you described was one of someone treating a black person poorly and unfairly. I did not have the impression that the person was victimised he/she was black, but because that person just happened to cross the way of an evil person. Had a non-black person been treated differently in identical circumstances, I would fully agree that these people are racists.
A, I fail to see how someone painting “nigger lover” or screaming “goddamned stupid fucking nigger” in my face is an incident that can te attributed to anything besides racism. Non-blacks are treated differently every single day, as evidenced by the gentleman who was arrested for attempting to cash a check made out to him. The fact that you used quotation marks around the word “overt” only displays your myopia in this regard.
JFB
Jackie, who might I contact to request permission to use this article in my English classroom? I teach using a Social Justice lens, and have many young urban students who I believe would get something useful from reading and discussing it.
Michael, please contact Lisa@goodmenproject.com for permission to use this and any other articles on GMP in your teaching. Please let us know how this is received by your students.
JFB
Well, I had a whole long post written but when the page auto-refreshed, I lost it. I grew up as a poor white kid in a predominantly black urban ghetto and I was the victim of racism from virtually every side. From the refusal of the people in my apartment building to open the door if I was carrying groceries or the closing of the door in my face, to the people who would refuse to help me with groceries on the top shelf or knock it on the floor to “help” me even after I asked politely (as a kid, mind you) to the spitting, the pushing, the shoving, the glaring, the trash thrown in my direction, etc. I suffered beatings, I was ostracized and kids wouldn’t even be friends with me — even ones that wanted to — because some of them had parents telling them not to and others were unwilling to suffer being ostracized along with me.
No one ever stood up for me because if you stood up for the white kid, that was just as bad as being white. People who weren’t openly racist towards me were accused of being race traitors.
The circumstances of my childhood were bad enough, but it was made exponentially worse by the fact that I was living in a black neighborhood. There was no where that I could go because the community I lived in had almost no white people, and I was guilty of the crime of being white in a black neighborhood.
Colin, your story is heartbreaking. Being the younger brother of a bully, I was always the kid who stood up for other kids who got pushed around. I took plenty of beatings standing up for kids who couldn’t stand up for themselves.
I like to think, had we gone to school together, we’d have been friends. I would have stood up for you.
JFB
My story IS heartbreaking, but not because of what I’ve shared here. This was merely the crushed walnuts, sprinkled on top of the misery sundae that was my childhood. Intelligent, motivated to overcome circumstances beyond our control, and victims of bullying? Yep, we probably would have sat together by ourselves at the lunch table.
Colin, if you’ve any interest in sharing your stories on overcoming adversity, dealing with racism, bullying or the like here on GMP, please contact Lisa@goodmenproject.com. There may be some kid out there sitting alone at a lunch table who would benefit to know that you passed through such circumstances, and became the better man for it.
JFB
Metaphors are wonderful tools for people to be detached from what’s going on with them and to get their own synaptic connection so they get the learning on all levels for themselves.
I was working in Far North Queensland with children in the child protection system and got so over being called a white mother F*&^%$G C*%T by the Aboriginal and Torres Straight children (it also taught me it’s learned hatred) so one day I just said to one of the children who was giving me a mouth full of very discussing language…close your eyes, now what colour am I ? She said black I said GREAT now let’s just keep walking forward. This simple act stopped the way they had been conditioned to hate colour. I say no shit sherlock I am white however it does not affect they way I love you and the greatest honour that I got out of working with all those beautiful children is then being called Auntie…We all have the power to go way beyond the colour of skin…look into your and their hearts and see everyone for the perfection of who and what they are.
Namaste Lou Lou xo
Louise, it brings me comfort to know that, despite your undeserved ill-treatment at the hands of the parents who entrust you with their children’s education, you choose a higher path. Deconstructing hatred is one of the most challenging things anyone can do, yet you handle it with dignity and aplomb.
Thank you for this gift of hope.
JFB
I was still a night student at City College of San Francisco. I got out of class at about ten o’clock one night and headed down to the BART station to get home. BART trains are usually between 4 and 10 cars long, and the station escalators are located near the middle of the platform. The 10 car trains span the platform when they stop, but the 4 car trains stop in the middle of the platform. I knew from experience that the cars at the ends were usually more empty (everyone mills near the escalators) and I would stand a better chance of getting a seat, so I walked down to the end of the platform. When I was almost there, I looked up and saw that the next train only had 4 cars, so I turned around and headed back towards the middle.
A minute later a man came up to me and said “Hey, you don’t have to be scared of me.” I was confused, as I had never seen him before in my life. I asked him to repeat himself and was told “I saw you, you walked to end of the platform looked up and saw me, then turned around and headed back the other way. You know you don’t have to be afraid of me just because I’m black,”
I explained why I had actually turned around, but the message was clear: because I am white, I must be a racist.
Sigh. Mike, it’s true: paranoia over racism causes misunderstandings. History proves that without white people–like Tom Matlack’s parents–there still would be no civil rights in America.
Absolute proof that racism isn’t inherent in black or white people: biracial twins born in London:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/7524319.stm
JFB
Jackie — one thing I’ve noticed is that black-white romantic relationships appear in both British and American movies, but only in American movies is race part of the plot. Even if Britain isn’t really like that, it’s nice to see displayed a world where race is simply irrelevant to people’s interactions.
You are an incredibly talented writer. When I was in highschool I never quite understood why my hispanic and black friends were so leery of police officers until I saw how often they were hassled or pulled over compared to me (in the exact same places and times).
When we’d play hoops at the park I would get called “white boy” a few times- it wasnt a big deal.
My friends were worried about being hassled or arrested for nothing more than their race. I had nothing remotely similar to worry about.
CW, when you make your way to Brooklyn, look me up. We’ll hit Marcy courts and grab some pick up games. If anyone hassles you I’ll shoulder-check them.
JFB
I think one of the most amazing things about racism is that it is clearly still operating but no one says they’re doing it. The vast majority of people would say racism is horribly wrong, it must be stopped, but we can’t find it anymore somehow. It is such a terrible accusation to be accused of racism that even people who are clearly racist are offended by being called racist. People from the Aryan Nation, KKK, etc., usually get deeply offended when they are labeled racist – even they think it’s a negative label.
I do think in many cases white people are uneasy about interacting with black people or talking about race issues because many whites are afraid to do something unknowingly racist. Many of us supposedly enlightened white folks know that we are probably racist in ways we are not even aware of, so better not risk the offense. The result is just another kind of offending, by keeping one’s distance. We also know that drawing attention to someone else’s race is also kind of racist. And it could be racist to treat everyone exactly the same, because then that’s denying the fact that racism exists. Not making excuses here, just that sometimes white people are truly trying to be anti-racist in clumsy ways that come across as racist.
My friend Kelly (MochaMomma) has been discussing how we talk about racial issues over on her blog.
http://www.mochamomma.com/2011/08/13/this-is-not-really-about-cake
Here’s a comment I made over there:
In one of Don Miguel Ruiz’s books, he says we have an emotional body that is as real as our physical body. The emotional body gets wounded, and many times we don’t deal with the wounds correctly, so instead of healing, they get infected and painful. Then someone bumps into our emotional wound with a word or a look or an assumption, and we react in what seems to be an outsized way to what the bumper sees as an accidental touch. But they bumped our sorest spot, and it makes us scream.
This is how I see our issues of race and privilege. So many wounds, so much covering up, so little examination or attempts at real healing – just a desire to move on without cleaning up. Those of us who have privilege go around bumping into those wounds, often cluelessly, sometimes thoughtlessly, sometimes from a geniune lack of care, and then when the yelling starts, we say “What? I didn’t do anything! You’re reacting all out of proportion.”
So our other solution is to avoid avoid avoid. Don’t bump, but don’t make any meaningful contact at all. Because no one wants to get yelled at, no one wants to take blame.
I said on twitter I have my own prejudices and you complimented me, Kelly. But here’s what happened the other day – I heard on the radio that a school in my old neighborhood had won some kind of award for student achievement, and I thought “That’s because it is such a white area.” NOT “That’s because it is such a rich area” or “That’s because the schools are so well-funded there” or “That’s because there is so much parent involvement.” A white area. That was my thought, and I hate to admit I had it. But that’s the kind of crap that still lurks in my brain and that I have to take a hard look at. It isn’t pretty and I can’t defend it. I can only say I’m willing to admit it and try to change it.
I lo