College/Southern Racism
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Short entry tonight, as I have to get to bed to wake up at six tomorrow and get to math class.
I started college last week, got my teachers to like me, and boy, is my jaw tired.
Math in the mornings, Mon-Thur, expository writing in the afternoon for five hours on Mon and Wed, but we really only have to go in on Mon. The majority of that class is done online.
I'll go into detail about college life at another time, but right now I have to mention something I've found it hard not to notice about this place, and about my grandparents in particular.
I spent a good deal of time in South Florida, in all-black schools. It wasn't very nice, and every second of every day in the 6th grade was as intense as releasing an anal load too big for your asshole to stretch around (but you get it halfway, so there's no going back, and you're stuck there in excruciating pain with a large brick in-and-out of your asshole), but eventually you grow some balls and you get it down how to act inside of a world of black people who want to kick your ass cause you're so fucking pale. Plus, not every black kid I knew was a racist, I had a number of black friends.
But here, it's shockingly racist in an entirely different way. With a black guy who's racist, he hates you, his hate is obvious and smoldering and in-your-face. These white brethren of mine; it's like they don't even notice you if you're black. Like your skin just blends in with everything else.
I was talking to Pa tonight, as were sitting together at the end of the day watching the last few minutes of a basketball game. And he started to tell me how they were such good athletes; born with that gift.
Whatever, I thought. Black guys do seem predispositioned to better athletic form than us honkies, but Pa makes it sound like every black guy on the face of the earth can jump more feet than he can count. And I'd heard all this before.
But then he comes out with; "They're dumb as bricks, most all of 'em. But boy, they sure are good athletes."
It's amazing how these sweet old people can make my mouth drop wide open in shock. They really are sweet, especially my Nanny, who has a laugh that could warm the heart of any deathrow convict. But get her to watch Tiger Woods play golf against any random white dude of your choice and bam, "Boy that black fella sure should lose. Ah' hope he loses." Last year during the PGA tournament, this Chinese guy was playing near Tiger and he made an eagle or a birdie, and he put up a fist in celebration. Pa said, "Boy, look at that little guy goin' on."
To which my sweet little Nannikins replied, "Well, it's better than a black fist in the air."
Pa does a lot of yard work. He's getting on in his age though, and he hires black men to help him. I learned this last week, as he and B had gone to work and left Nanny and myself home with the man he'd hired working out back.
I was on the internet when he knocked on the door and asked for some water. I said I'd get him some and as I did, Nanny asked what I was doing. When I told her, she nearly pitched a fit. She said they didn't do that. They didn't give the men who Pa hires filtered water, and that they weren't to ask to use the bathroom either. If they had to use the bathroom, they were to do it out in the woods. If they wanted water, they should drink it from the tap. We're not even talking about letting the guys borrow a fucking glass to put the water in. And that means they'd have to cup the water from the tap outside in their hands and slurp it out.
Just like the good ole' days.
I gave him a glass of water and had a conversation about it with Pa later. He didn't give me shit for it, but that's probably cause I didn't let them know I also gave the guy some of my Gingerales when he came back later.
Sometimes I can't wait to get out of here. And don't even get me started on B, who just yesterday complained about how black people were hard to understand because of their southern accents.
...YOU'RE SOUTHERN, YOU DUMB MOTHERFUCKER!!! B has the most grating, mind-numbing, electric bugaloo up the base of your spine to your neck nerve-shattering DUMB sounding southern twang I've ever fucking encountered, he makes Hee Haw sound like BBC!
But whatever. Calmness is my name. I am jack's cool demeanor. And I have to go to bed, as I now have only three hours left to sleep.
God damn it.
Short entry tonight, as I have to get to bed to wake up at six tomorrow and get to math class.
I started college last week, got my teachers to like me, and boy, is my jaw tired.
Math in the mornings, Mon-Thur, expository writing in the afternoon for five hours on Mon and Wed, but we really only have to go in on Mon. The majority of that class is done online.
I'll go into detail about college life at another time, but right now I have to mention something I've found it hard not to notice about this place, and about my grandparents in particular.
I spent a good deal of time in South Florida, in all-black schools. It wasn't very nice, and every second of every day in the 6th grade was as intense as releasing an anal load too big for your asshole to stretch around (but you get it halfway, so there's no going back, and you're stuck there in excruciating pain with a large brick in-and-out of your asshole), but eventually you grow some balls and you get it down how to act inside of a world of black people who want to kick your ass cause you're so fucking pale. Plus, not every black kid I knew was a racist, I had a number of black friends.
But here, it's shockingly racist in an entirely different way. With a black guy who's racist, he hates you, his hate is obvious and smoldering and in-your-face. These white brethren of mine; it's like they don't even notice you if you're black. Like your skin just blends in with everything else.
I was talking to Pa tonight, as were sitting together at the end of the day watching the last few minutes of a basketball game. And he started to tell me how they were such good athletes; born with that gift.
Whatever, I thought. Black guys do seem predispositioned to better athletic form than us honkies, but Pa makes it sound like every black guy on the face of the earth can jump more feet than he can count. And I'd heard all this before.
But then he comes out with; "They're dumb as bricks, most all of 'em. But boy, they sure are good athletes."
It's amazing how these sweet old people can make my mouth drop wide open in shock. They really are sweet, especially my Nanny, who has a laugh that could warm the heart of any deathrow convict. But get her to watch Tiger Woods play golf against any random white dude of your choice and bam, "Boy that black fella sure should lose. Ah' hope he loses." Last year during the PGA tournament, this Chinese guy was playing near Tiger and he made an eagle or a birdie, and he put up a fist in celebration. Pa said, "Boy, look at that little guy goin' on."
To which my sweet little Nannikins replied, "Well, it's better than a black fist in the air."
Pa does a lot of yard work. He's getting on in his age though, and he hires black men to help him. I learned this last week, as he and B had gone to work and left Nanny and myself home with the man he'd hired working out back.
I was on the internet when he knocked on the door and asked for some water. I said I'd get him some and as I did, Nanny asked what I was doing. When I told her, she nearly pitched a fit. She said they didn't do that. They didn't give the men who Pa hires filtered water, and that they weren't to ask to use the bathroom either. If they had to use the bathroom, they were to do it out in the woods. If they wanted water, they should drink it from the tap. We're not even talking about letting the guys borrow a fucking glass to put the water in. And that means they'd have to cup the water from the tap outside in their hands and slurp it out.
Just like the good ole' days.
I gave him a glass of water and had a conversation about it with Pa later. He didn't give me shit for it, but that's probably cause I didn't let them know I also gave the guy some of my Gingerales when he came back later.
Sometimes I can't wait to get out of here. And don't even get me started on B, who just yesterday complained about how black people were hard to understand because of their southern accents.
...YOU'RE SOUTHERN, YOU DUMB MOTHERFUCKER!!! B has the most grating, mind-numbing, electric bugaloo up the base of your spine to your neck nerve-shattering DUMB sounding southern twang I've ever fucking encountered, he makes Hee Haw sound like BBC!
But whatever. Calmness is my name. I am jack's cool demeanor. And I have to go to bed, as I now have only three hours left to sleep.
God damn it.