THE SHIT THAT COMES WITH RACISM

Growing up and coming of age in 1960’s/70’s California, was an interesting, to say the least. The news media of the day made quite clear that those of us living in America that were black, or as we were sometimes still called back then, Negro, knew it. As liberal as Californians were made to look by the Press, black people (us) knew we were still segregated in many ways. However, as a kid, growing up in a predominately black neighbor of a racially mixed city did had its advantages. It allowed me to see the little white kids and Asian kids I went to school with as people, first. In grade school, none of us really looked down at any kid because of their ethnicity. Sure, we teased each other for a variety of reasons, but none of which had anything to do with skin color. As I recall, that issue did no surface until our junior high school days.

In my elementary school years, I became aware that being a minority, really did not mean much in the grand scheme of things. I am black. OK, so what? Why do you have a problem with this?  Was I to process that as to mean I was inferior, and shit as some were leading me to believe? 

My earliest recalled encounter with racism came one summer at YMCA camp. My father was a camp counselor at a time when my brother and I were actually too young to attend camp. But, some how there we were with my older cousin and a bunch of racially mixed kids from all over the Bay Area of northern California. There were many camp counselors milling about making sure all the kids were safe and supervised. One counselor I remember was an ethnic Italian. “Neat!” I thought. Never met a real Italian before. He seemed to take a liking to my younger brother. Always putting him on his shoulders, and entertaining him in various ways. I sort of felt left out. I'd hoped that he would take me onto his shoulders at some point during our time at camp but that shit never happened. I waited, and waited, watching my younger brother get all the attention, when one day the counselor actually talked to me.  During the conservation said.

“Oh, I can tell you two apart”, this said with his head outstretched upward, slightly as he looked downward with his eyes towards me. I was so excited that he was speaking to me. That he actually knew I was alive. OK, he was about to make a comparison between my younger brother and I, but that was O.K. Maybe I’d finally get that ride on his shoulders. I listened intently as he was about to explain to me how he could tell the difference between me and my lighter skinned younger brother, who, granted, was the same size as I, and we wore pretty much the same style and color of clothing. A direct result of my mother’s bargain shopping and her relishing in the fact that most people thought my brother and I were fraternal twins. Twins of any sort was a novelty back in those days. We were only 13 months apart in age, so I could see how people might believe that we were twins of sorts.

“Oh yeah, I can tell you two apart” He said “Its easy, You’re the ugly one.”

This said without batting an eye, cracking a smile or offering up an I’m just kidding! This consular was serious an unapologetic. Believe it or not, I didn't take the statement personally. I was just stunned. I was ugly? I stood there looking up at the counselor, trying to process what he had just said to me. Trying to understand the words. Trying to understand. Was this a black and white/dark and light thing, I wondered. I was too young to ask what kinda shit is that to say to a kid but I did contemplate that thought later in life. You don’t easily forget shit like that.

In my teens, I recall a Klu Klux Klan member quoting a passage from the Christian Bible to justify why he believed black people of African descent, the Negro race, were inferior to the Caucasian race. “A leopard can not change his spots” was the line I believe he quoted. I seem to recall looking that passage up and not obtaining the same meaning as he did, but in any case, it was clear that he and a large number of Americans believed this to be true. He claimed being black made us inferior and that fact would not change, no matter what we did to bring about change.

In college, there was a girl who I was attracted to, who happened to be Mormon. I asked her out. She said yes, and then changed her mind two days later. I was excited at the 'yes' and disappointed at the 'no'. So, I of course asked why the change of heart.

"John I like you and think you are a fun guy but I can't go out with you because you are black." She went on to tell me that her Morman religion made it impossible for us to go out on a date. And then she gave the quote. "A leopard can not change its spots .” Deja vu. She went on to say that black people are black because they (we) did not accept Jesus Christ, or Christianity, or some shit like that. I don't remember all the details just that she was allowing outside influences to control her inter being; her fondness for me.

There is a Chinese saying I recall hearing as a kid. You are now, what you always have been. I believe this saying addresses one’s character; one’s self, and may be a more appropriate interpretation of what is said to be written in the Christian Bible. 

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