Racism gone wild in my mind.  Help!

Sad to say but race is an issue that many of  us have to learn to live with.  Irregardless of what Opra has to say, even blacks can be racist.

As a white person (really kind-of pinkish tan, but definitely white during the winter months) I was raised to think there were little or no difference between whites and non-whites.  So I guess I wouldn't have been considered a racist in those days. Growing up, there were very few non-whites in the schools I attended, other than, an occasional track meet, football game or basketball game I really didn't have much experience with blacks (then called Negroes), Asians (were labeled Chinese) or Mexicans (then called?  Well, Mexicans.)  When I think back, I really don't remember anyone talking much about non-whites in any particular manner.  But then again, when I was a kid, my brother and I (Tim was about 9 and I was 8) had just left a movie downtown Kalamazoo, when two big older black boys (they were boys, so I can say boys in this context) pushed my brother down an ally and threatened to beat him.  When I told them to stop, the larger boy grabbed me by the shirt and lifted me right off the ground saying "what are you going to do about it?"  That's when, thank God, my mother drove up and yelled at the two boys to "leave those kids alone!".   Even then, I really didn't think much of the situation because in those days, older kids seemed to pick on all younger kids.  And if you were younger, you learned quick to get out of there way.  Well anyways, later in my life I moved to Fulton, Mississippi, just outside of Tupelo.  It was Fulton that I learned about separation, you know the black/white thing.  A movie "Guess who's coming to dinner" with Sidney Portia' (sorry for the spelling errors) was listed on the marquis above the movie theater, but never showed because the city folk didn't allow it, I guess.  It was also at that time that Martin Luther King was assassinated, I remember it being sad to hear and I had wondered how the local people would react.  I knew I might get in a little trouble if I didn't keep my mouth shut.  Oddly enough, all of the southerners were saddened to hear of his death and no one expressed any happiness regarding this tragic loss.  They seemed to think he was a good, kind, God fearing person and they seemed to respect that.  At the same time, they liked separatism and felt everyone should know their place, including the Damn Yankees (Me.)  They often referred to us northerners as Damn Yankees and seemed to think we were from another country at times.  At the same time they seemed to give me a little respect for being from the North, they wanted me to know, they had their own way of living, their own way of dealing with things and their own way of looking at things.  I remember then telling me that the people from the North will smile to your face and talk poorly behind your back and down here in the South, we'll let you know were we really stand.  You know what, they're right.

While living in Fulton I remember standing in line to go swimming, when a young black boy ahead of  us was told the swimming area was full.  When my wife and I turned around to leave, the man behind the old white counter yelled out "where you going boy?"  I turned around and asked if he was talking to me, he said "ya, you boy, come here we've got room for you."  Well, I didn't know if he was being kind because I was a Yankee or unkind to the black boy he turned away, but out of my mouth came "if you don't have room for him, then you don't have room for me.  We're not interested in swimming here with people like you!  Then for some strange reason, my right arm went up and it gave him the bird sign, just like it was out of control and had a mind of it's own.  Needless to say I was always nervous living down in Fulton, mainly  because I knew the Southerners really didn't like Yankees.  In fact, they talked allot more negatively about Yankees then they did blacks.  But at the same time, I respected them for saying what they felt, both sides did.  Even the blacks seem to be happy with the arrangements.  They seemed to like their way of doing things and like the whites to stay out of certain events while embracing white in others.  Looking back, I made some great friends after I was there awhile.

Getting back to racism.  Later after being drafted into the military, Army side, I was first confronted with racism.  I heard the blacks, in another company, wouldn't allow whites in their recreation area (don't really remember what it was called at that time) so I went down to our recreation area to see what the problem was.  Ya see, I was a squad leader at the time and felt it was my job in life to right what was wrong if possible.  Either way, I felt we could talk things out and make everyone happy.  However it didn't really go the way I thought it would.  The black were more then confrontational, they not only wanted in but they demanded, no one should even attempt to enter their area.  The next thing I knew, our drill sergeant, who didn't really like me much, but that's another story, said the blacks (about 6 of them) and I should step outside and settle this.  Well, obviously I'm not to smart, but I wasn't stupid, I swallowed my pride and walked away as they called me names and laughed.  Well, I guess this was the first time I remember being a racist, it's easy to notice the difference when the person trying to harm you is another color, it sticks in your mind more then just another same colored person.

From there, some of the more traumatic experiences in my life seem to be centered around my ex-wife, while we were separated, she would act like she still loved me, but yet would have a particular black police officer named "Nervy" spend the night at her apartment.  Telling me, she didn't know he was there.  He must have snuck in during the night.  I remember, I was so in love with her and couldn't get her out of my mind.  I was really messed up over her in those days.  At the same time, she came from, although a wealthy family, it was a real messed up family, later to find out; everything went on in that house including incest.  Well, needless to say at that time, I wasn't all that keen on blacks.  When I look back on it, my sister-in-law was good friends of a few blacks, they would do drugs, smoke and drink together, even though I kept telling her I didn't want her to be around that type of thing.  She of course would sneak out or lock her room door and party on.  Again, I wasn't to happy about this black thing that was going on in my house.

In later years, it seemed like blacks were getting louder and louder, wearing hates, pants and other cloths backwards and just doing just about anything to yell out "look at me, I just can't get enough attention!".  Well, this is, I guess where much of it pops up.  Today I look at TV and what the naughty dancing with all the sex related movements, hear the anti white talk and attitude and watch Jessie Jackson on his crusade against whites.  I really don't know why all of this bothers me.  But it does.  We just sit back and watch more and more sexuality on TV, listen to how the whites have been unfair to black and have to listen to how the world hates them, as they go off on the loud mission yelling and screaming, joining gangs, pushing drugs and using guns, even killing their own kind.  What a messed up world we live in.

By the way, while I was in college, my "Black American History" class was more about how and why blacks should hate whites.  The black instructor preached over and over again on how someone can automatically detect when you meet a white prejudice person.  I remember him saying every time a white uses the words "they, them, those, black, Negro, African American" etc you could tell it was a white racist.  Looking back at that class, it was the most idiotic class I had ever been in.  I was interested in finding out more about the then called "African American" way of life.  I wanted to know and learn to appreciate their history.  But all I got out of that class was how much they hated whites and blamed whites for each and every bad thing that ever happened to them.  I guess this is where I still have a problem.  I have a few real good friends, one, I talk more about private issues with then anyone else.  And yet I keep hearing the poor me syndrome and can't help but see blacks yelling and screaming look at me wherever I go.  So how in the world can I shake this negativity and racism when it's all around me.

Help me!

Ashamed/Michigan

05/22/2003

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