Que the hell...
So, I almost feel forced into writing about this now, as the
subject has come up so much. I don't know why it's an issue, but I feel I'm
being goaded into speaking on it.
When I was young, and my mother was still someone who I had special care for, instead of enmity, she gave me a book, as she often would. It was called The Dark Thirty, by Patricia McKissack. (There's a link to it on Amazon here.) It became one of the books I loved, despite the fact that it was mainly folktales and ghost stories, neither of which I've ever cared much for. But there was something about it that I never picked up on until many years later...
When I was eight years old, I heard someone say the word "nigger" for the first time. I was visiting my grandfather's home, not far from here in Virginia, and he was talking about a movie I had been watching, I don't recall what it was. But prior to that, the word had never been spoken in my immediate presence. I may have heard it in a movie or read it in a book, but it never registered. I had heard the word "nigga" before, in music I liked, some movies; I think maybe a comedian's special on HBO or something. But never with an "-er." I heard some other new words that summer, "kike" stands out in my mind most significantly, and when I got home, I remember my mother having to sit me down and explain the words, and where they came from. My mind couldn't really grasp it at the time, and, honestly, I can't to this day.
I've noticed that race is apparently important around here, even in something as common as a description ("The black guy over there." "The white chick across the way.") Honestly, this isn't a good way to help me pick out someone. For some reason, it just doesn't occur to me that people are of different ethnicities. I'll get it, eventually. But it took me almost six years of reading that book to realize almost all the characters in it were black.
It is beyond my capability to truly understand how someone could look at a person and not only not think about them as an individual, just as developed as themselves, with their own thoughts, feelings, hopes, fears, and memories, but also assume any number of things based on one fact. Coincidentally, this is why I hate those who play to stereotypes and sell themselves short as people. Exemplars turn themselves into caricatures, and cause divisions among people just as much as those who practice projected prejudice. You can know a person for years, and still have no idea who they really are. The nerve of those who write someone off at a glance is sickening. And the audacity to take your God-given right to individuality and spit on to turn yourself into a template infuriates me.
Last night, the subject of music came up. People here tend to exclude music which holds great merit for reasons I can't understand. A lot of the music excluded, however, seems to factor in on the basis of race for these people. As we drove home, Fabolous' "Breathe" came on the radio. If you haven't heard it, know that it has received great acclaim from fans and critics alike. I looked at him and said "Goddamn that track is hot! How can someone listen to that and not dig it?" His answer was only that people here apparently feel the need to identify with music based on those they hang out with. Back home, everyone listened to everything. I can't explain it.
Jordan has spent some time with his father, recently, who reminds me of my grandfather. He wrote a post about a rant the man went on (here). I may be described as imperialistic and insensitive for believing in one world, but I'd rather that than support hatred. I could never understand how you could find fault with someone based on something they can't help, their parentage, or configuration of chromosomes, even (especially?) the presence of an abnormal gene? Should people born blind be disallowed marriage? Is it okay to discriminate against little people?
I guess there's more to be said, there's certainly more I'd like to say. Maybe if someone asks me to carry it on, I will. For now, I'll leave you with this. You may have noticed less colorfulness or expression in this entry. I guess I just can't feel up to purple letters when I'm thinking about how some treat others as nothing more than a faceless threat to their "pure" environment. One day, we'll all be free. Until then, I'll be waiting on the other side.
When I was young, and my mother was still someone who I had special care for, instead of enmity, she gave me a book, as she often would. It was called The Dark Thirty, by Patricia McKissack. (There's a link to it on Amazon here.) It became one of the books I loved, despite the fact that it was mainly folktales and ghost stories, neither of which I've ever cared much for. But there was something about it that I never picked up on until many years later...
When I was eight years old, I heard someone say the word "nigger" for the first time. I was visiting my grandfather's home, not far from here in Virginia, and he was talking about a movie I had been watching, I don't recall what it was. But prior to that, the word had never been spoken in my immediate presence. I may have heard it in a movie or read it in a book, but it never registered. I had heard the word "nigga" before, in music I liked, some movies; I think maybe a comedian's special on HBO or something. But never with an "-er." I heard some other new words that summer, "kike" stands out in my mind most significantly, and when I got home, I remember my mother having to sit me down and explain the words, and where they came from. My mind couldn't really grasp it at the time, and, honestly, I can't to this day.
I've noticed that race is apparently important around here, even in something as common as a description ("The black guy over there." "The white chick across the way.") Honestly, this isn't a good way to help me pick out someone. For some reason, it just doesn't occur to me that people are of different ethnicities. I'll get it, eventually. But it took me almost six years of reading that book to realize almost all the characters in it were black.
It is beyond my capability to truly understand how someone could look at a person and not only not think about them as an individual, just as developed as themselves, with their own thoughts, feelings, hopes, fears, and memories, but also assume any number of things based on one fact. Coincidentally, this is why I hate those who play to stereotypes and sell themselves short as people. Exemplars turn themselves into caricatures, and cause divisions among people just as much as those who practice projected prejudice. You can know a person for years, and still have no idea who they really are. The nerve of those who write someone off at a glance is sickening. And the audacity to take your God-given right to individuality and spit on to turn yourself into a template infuriates me.
Last night, the subject of music came up. People here tend to exclude music which holds great merit for reasons I can't understand. A lot of the music excluded, however, seems to factor in on the basis of race for these people. As we drove home, Fabolous' "Breathe" came on the radio. If you haven't heard it, know that it has received great acclaim from fans and critics alike. I looked at him and said "Goddamn that track is hot! How can someone listen to that and not dig it?" His answer was only that people here apparently feel the need to identify with music based on those they hang out with. Back home, everyone listened to everything. I can't explain it.
Jordan has spent some time with his father, recently, who reminds me of my grandfather. He wrote a post about a rant the man went on (here). I may be described as imperialistic and insensitive for believing in one world, but I'd rather that than support hatred. I could never understand how you could find fault with someone based on something they can't help, their parentage, or configuration of chromosomes, even (especially?) the presence of an abnormal gene? Should people born blind be disallowed marriage? Is it okay to discriminate against little people?
I guess there's more to be said, there's certainly more I'd like to say. Maybe if someone asks me to carry it on, I will. For now, I'll leave you with this. You may have noticed less colorfulness or expression in this entry. I guess I just can't feel up to purple letters when I'm thinking about how some treat others as nothing more than a faceless threat to their "pure" environment. One day, we'll all be free. Until then, I'll be waiting on the other side.