this is me when i just want to talk.
my parents are in athens today. me and my dad went to dairy queen. i was waiting in the car, and a black man came up behind my dad at the window. my dad talked to him for a minute, got our ice cream, and came back.
there was something amazing in this moment, and i was struck as i have been struck before, whenever i see my dad talk to someone who is african american. he has overcome generations of racism, to become a [mostly] tolerant and accepting person. my grandmother... she would have turned up her nose at this individual, this man who clearly had just walked up the street from his subsidized housing for ice cream on an already cold january afternoon. i know people say that prejudice is a cycle that will never end, that it just perpetuates itself. maybe this is true a lot of the time. but it isn't always.
i don't know... there is something so beautiful and tragic about the south, about atlanta, about athens. so rich with poor culture. such diversity amid such overwhelming racism and hatred. maybe there are places in this country, places north and west, where the scenery is brighter, the museums bigger, the education better. i'm glad i come from this. i'm glad i know this place, have seen these things. there's so much more for me to see. more for me to appreciate about my own life. i don't know. all i could think today, looking around, seeing the rundown buildings and the gray sky and this man and the old lady at the counter and the cars going by, mostly tiny imports or beat up tanks... all i could think was "how tragically beautiful". i guess i'm not so good at putting this idea into words. but i just wanted to weep for how beautiful, and how terribly sad.
there was something amazing in this moment, and i was struck as i have been struck before, whenever i see my dad talk to someone who is african american. he has overcome generations of racism, to become a [mostly] tolerant and accepting person. my grandmother... she would have turned up her nose at this individual, this man who clearly had just walked up the street from his subsidized housing for ice cream on an already cold january afternoon. i know people say that prejudice is a cycle that will never end, that it just perpetuates itself. maybe this is true a lot of the time. but it isn't always.
i don't know... there is something so beautiful and tragic about the south, about atlanta, about athens. so rich with poor culture. such diversity amid such overwhelming racism and hatred. maybe there are places in this country, places north and west, where the scenery is brighter, the museums bigger, the education better. i'm glad i come from this. i'm glad i know this place, have seen these things. there's so much more for me to see. more for me to appreciate about my own life. i don't know. all i could think today, looking around, seeing the rundown buildings and the gray sky and this man and the old lady at the counter and the cars going by, mostly tiny imports or beat up tanks... all i could think was "how tragically beautiful". i guess i'm not so good at putting this idea into words. but i just wanted to weep for how beautiful, and how terribly sad.