More Thoughts On Race
First of all, what is race? Websters Online defines it as:
verb 1 : to compete in a race.
Inflected Form(s): raced; rac·ing
As a 31-year-old black woman, racism was never as prevalent in my life as it was when I was a runner. The official policy of the running community is that everyone is equal. But from my very first day in running clinic, it became clear that some runners were considered better than others.
An open-minded, forward thinking person will tell you that it's now whether you win or lose that matters. That's the party line. I was a seven-minute-kilometer runner. I came from the mean streets of a suburb where the plow hardly came by. Mine was a heritage of cold, soggy sneakers and poor lung capacity. People used to tell me I'd never make it. Usually as they were helping me up off the ground. But I worked hard. And I showed up at run club, a proud 7MKer.
But, in the eyes of some 7MKers would never be as good as certain others. And this prejudice wasn't just personal opinion. Consider, if you will that not a single intructor was a 7MK runner. They were all 5MKers or better. And yes, that one fact might be an unfortunate coincidence, but the proof of preferential treatment keeps mounting.
Consider if you will, that these instructors kept pushing an agenda that clearly promoted the "faster is better" agenda. The implication was that if we worked hard, we too could enjoy the benefits of being a 6MKer, a 5MKer or even a 4KMer. They spoke of running faster as though this was something we should aspire to. And despite their claim that racism was never a factor, the reality is that I have never heard the word "race" bandied about more than I did at running clinic. Of course the instructors told us there was nothing wrong with being a 7MKer.
During running clinic, those in the low number group got all the perks. There were drinks and snacks offered at the end of each run. Well, wouldn't you know the 4, 5 and 6MKers always got theirs before us 7MKers. There was also internal racism. When I became friendly with a few people in the 6K group, my fellow 7Kerms accused me to being a traitor to my race...group.
And never was race a more prevalent issue than on the day of competition. I should have known. I was competing in something called the National Captital "Race" Weekend, for crying out loud.
I've never seen such segregation! The competitors were separated, first by race distance (1K, 5K, half-marathon,etc...) and then by again by race speed!
I was herding into a group with the other 10K runners in the 7MK area. When the starter's pistol sounded, all I could think about was race. The 4, 5 and 6KMers shot ahead as once again it became clear that the faster runners were going to win. As they always had. As, it seems, they always will. It seemed the only way for someone like me to get ahead would be if a huge truck carrying white glue exploded further up the course and the other runners got stuck to the course. But that didn't happen. It never happens.
As I reached the end of the course, I was handed a consolation medal and a Power Bar, while the fastest runners got trophies and money. As they always do.
And so now, here I sit pondering this seemingly never-ending cycle of racism. Is it inevitable? Will the fastest runners always be the winners, while the slow runners go home with a Power Bar (or six, if you make nice with the Power bar rep)? Most importantly, is this the sort of world we want our kids to grow up in?
Of course the are difficult questions with even more difficult answers. We might never achieve racial equality, but for the sake of future generations we have to keep fighting. But not for 8MKers. I hate them and hope they die.
verb 1 : to compete in a race.
Inflected Form(s): raced; rac·ing
As a 31-year-old black woman, racism was never as prevalent in my life as it was when I was a runner. The official policy of the running community is that everyone is equal. But from my very first day in running clinic, it became clear that some runners were considered better than others.
An open-minded, forward thinking person will tell you that it's now whether you win or lose that matters. That's the party line. I was a seven-minute-kilometer runner. I came from the mean streets of a suburb where the plow hardly came by. Mine was a heritage of cold, soggy sneakers and poor lung capacity. People used to tell me I'd never make it. Usually as they were helping me up off the ground. But I worked hard. And I showed up at run club, a proud 7MKer.
But, in the eyes of some 7MKers would never be as good as certain others. And this prejudice wasn't just personal opinion. Consider, if you will that not a single intructor was a 7MK runner. They were all 5MKers or better. And yes, that one fact might be an unfortunate coincidence, but the proof of preferential treatment keeps mounting.
Consider if you will, that these instructors kept pushing an agenda that clearly promoted the "faster is better" agenda. The implication was that if we worked hard, we too could enjoy the benefits of being a 6MKer, a 5MKer or even a 4KMer. They spoke of running faster as though this was something we should aspire to. And despite their claim that racism was never a factor, the reality is that I have never heard the word "race" bandied about more than I did at running clinic. Of course the instructors told us there was nothing wrong with being a 7MKer.
During running clinic, those in the low number group got all the perks. There were drinks and snacks offered at the end of each run. Well, wouldn't you know the 4, 5 and 6MKers always got theirs before us 7MKers. There was also internal racism. When I became friendly with a few people in the 6K group, my fellow 7Kerms accused me to being a traitor to my race...group.
And never was race a more prevalent issue than on the day of competition. I should have known. I was competing in something called the National Captital "Race" Weekend, for crying out loud.
I've never seen such segregation! The competitors were separated, first by race distance (1K, 5K, half-marathon,etc...) and then by again by race speed!
I was herding into a group with the other 10K runners in the 7MK area. When the starter's pistol sounded, all I could think about was race. The 4, 5 and 6KMers shot ahead as once again it became clear that the faster runners were going to win. As they always had. As, it seems, they always will. It seemed the only way for someone like me to get ahead would be if a huge truck carrying white glue exploded further up the course and the other runners got stuck to the course. But that didn't happen. It never happens.
As I reached the end of the course, I was handed a consolation medal and a Power Bar, while the fastest runners got trophies and money. As they always do.
And so now, here I sit pondering this seemingly never-ending cycle of racism. Is it inevitable? Will the fastest runners always be the winners, while the slow runners go home with a Power Bar (or six, if you make nice with the Power bar rep)? Most importantly, is this the sort of world we want our kids to grow up in?
Of course the are difficult questions with even more difficult answers. We might never achieve racial equality, but for the sake of future generations we have to keep fighting. But not for 8MKers. I hate them and hope they die.