Race: Human

I read an article that was about an author whom someone had asked whether a white person should use the N-word. I found his answer very well thought out, to the point and clear. He stated that if he and his wife were together in public, and she called him honey, it would be acceptable. But if a stranger were to call him honey in public, there will be something wrong with it. I understood what he was saying to mean that honey was used as a term of endearment by his wife; it was personal. Yet if someone he did not know would use the same word, that was okay hearing it from his wife, it would have a different meaning coming from a stranger. It was all having to deal with who was saying it and to whom it was said.

I never use the N-word because the meaning of it would be very demeaning no matter who was using it, and it just didn't sound right coming out of my mouth. I would be around others, and they use the word as if by doing so, it would desensitize one from what it was to mean to people of color. In which case it seemed that one of the same race using the word it was acceptable. Yet, when a person not of the same skin color would use the same word, you being sensitive become angry. That never made sense to me because if you're going to call yourselves that, and that's what people of other skin colors have been calling us in a demeaning way, what makes it so different if someone of your skin color calls you the same thing. 

Someone of another skin color would hear two individuals calling each other the N-word, and it could still mean the same thing to them as if they had used it.

My first time reading the word prejudiced in school, I read it as pre-juiced served, and no one corrected me. Later on, I realized I had not pronounced the "d."

My great grandmother would take care of the house of a white family, and they had three sons, a lovely family, a very nice home. Because I would spend the summer with my great grandmother, she would take me to work with her, and I was welcome to play with the children. 

The oldest son just kept his distance and didn't have much to say to me. I didn't understand, nor did I care because I was busy having fun playing with two younger brothers.

Two things that I remember happened during my time spent with them.

One was as we were out playing in their backyard, one of their friends came over and made it known that their mother had told them that they could not play with me.

Well, even though I didn't understand as a child, I didn't take it personally or give it much thought and kept playing with the other two kids, and we were having fun.

Unbeknownst to me, my playmates' mom was watching what had happened and came out and spoke to the child who had said she couldn't play with me. She told the child that if she couldn't play with me, she could not play with anyone else there, then instructed the child to go home and let her parents know that if you can't play with him, you can't play with the others either.

Then another time we had gone into a supermarket, they treated me just like I was family. We were in the supermarket going around, getting some groceries. Then while in the checkout line. The three of us kids saw the gumball machines and ran over to them while their mom and dad were paying for the groceries.

So while we were gazing at penny gumball machines looking at the candy that we could get for a penny, the two sons began to jump up and down and say mommy, can we have a penny to put in for the gumball machine. I started jumping up and down, saying mommy, mommy, can I have a penny to put in the gumball machine to get some gum.

This being in the mid-1950s and people began to stare because these two white kids and a black kid were jumping up and down and were all screaming mommy, mommy, can we have a penny to put in the gumball machine.

Many years later, the mother and I had a conversation, one of a few we shared before her passing, and one of the memories she shared was how it seemed everyone in the supermarket was staring at us that day, the three kids and at her and her husband. She told me that while her husband looked away, she stared right back and asked the cashier if anything was wrong. 

We kids had no issues about our skin color and had no problems playing together or being together anywhere. So we thought nothing of calling mommy and asking for a penny. We didn't know about racism.

We were brothers and were jumping up and down, and calling mommy just seemed a natural thing to do; we had no idea of what racism was.

No one told us it was wrong.

And later on in life, I realized that people are not born to be racist or prejudiced they have to have it taught to them at a young age during the formative years. Just like the child that said she could come over and play with the two brothers, but she couldn't play with me. That was not something the child thought on her own, as she said her mother told her. She had those instructions given to her.

Now, the mother of my playmates was not an American; she was Danish and did not like racism. Being from Denmark, she treated me just like I was a family member. She instilled in me the belief that I was no different than anyone else. No matter what skin color or what we had or where we lived, we were all the same. 

That was the reason why I grew up thinking that I was just as good as anybody else and felt it best to be respectful and kind to all. Those that just treated people ill I would ignore, but there were occasions where I would voice my opinion and say what I believed.

I remember looking for a job when I was about twelve or so and going around to the different stores in the area and restaurants to see if I could get a job, I wanted to get a job. And remember going into this one restaurant and was speaking to the cook, or I guess he could have been the owner.  As I was telling him that I wanted to apply for a job, he abruptly stopped talking to me and began to yell at a waitress who was black telling her to put a hairnet on her head because nobody wanted no N-word hair in their food. I just walked out because I knew that I could not work there. I believe that all people should be treated fairly and equally without being subjected to racists name-calling.

There was a corner store in the neighborhood, and everyone went there to buy, and sometimes the owners mistreated neighborhood people. Sometimes the owners would sell lousy food. Once our mother had me go to that store and buy some flour, and when I brought it home, she opened the bag, these little insects were crawling around in the flour. She had me take it back to the store. Upon showing the bag of flour to the owner and asking for the money I paid to be refunded. The store owner accused of putting the bugs in the bag, saying there was nothing wrong with the bag of flour that I had bought. 

He got no argument from me; I told him straight up, that is not what happened; you saw me come in here, and I bought this, and now I am bringing it back. He gave me the money back reluctantly.

 I found it hard to believe that he wanted to tell me that there was nothing wrong with the bag of flour, and I had put the bugs in it instead of just saying, I did sell you that bag, let me give you your money back.

Then one of my good friends had gotten a job at that same store, and I came in and saw he was there sweeping up and working, proud to have a job, and I was happy for him. While I was there, the owner yelled at my friend and talked to him in a nasty way.  I told the owner that he did not have to speak to him like that. 

That was just the way that I felt.

Because I felt it was just wrong for him to talk to my friend like that, I said something.

I saw my friend trying to get my attention by moving his hands to signal me not to say anything and to be quiet.

I realized that he had to work here, and he was letting me know to chill and not mess with his job. 

So I shut up, but I never forgot that.  I didn't feel anyone should speak to another person like that.

Years later, I was working as a janitor at a Post Exchange that had an outside garden supply area. One day I heard somebody outside in the gardening area yelling and screaming at somebody telling them how stupid they were. I came out and saw this guy shouting at a co-worker who was standing with his head down. I, not thinking, began saying, you don't have to talk to him like that, there's no reason for you to be yelling and screaming at that young man like that.

The guy turned and looked at me like he wanted to say something to me, but for some reason, he just glared at me.

I could see the co-worker standing behind him, waving his hands as if to tell me to shut up. 

The angry guy just stormed off, went his way and the co-worker came to where I was standing and told me that the guy was a general and I should not have spoken to him like that, I told him, General or not he didn't have to talk to you like that. 

My employment there was short-lived.

In the mid-60s, I lived in Japan for a while, my dad was in the Air Force, and I was an Air Force brat. During my time spent there, I began to associate with members of the military who, of course, were older than I. The older guys educated me on how we are black had been brutalized and taken advantage of by the white man. In the USA, people of color were deciding racial injustice had to stop, so what they were telling sounded reasonable. I agreed, it was time to say it loud, I'm black, and I'm proud.

I was not into the burning, shooting, killing, or looting and believed it was wrong for anyone, black or white, to do such.

Returning home, to America I went back to my great grandmother's house to visit, and I was explaining to her about how mistreated we had been, how the white man did this, and that and had taken advantage of us. My great-grandmother just sat there silently with a little smile on her face, and she never said a word. And I just wondered had I gotten through her.

Later that day, I was in my room reading when my great grandmother called me to come downstairs, and I said okay, and I came downstairs.

Lo and behold there in the living room was the mother and the two sons that I had grown up with, and they were happy to see me. I was at a loss of words because, all of a sudden, I realized I could not feel the way that I did because I knew people that were not like that.

Looking at my great grandmother, I understood why she had not said anything earlier; I knew better.

My great grandmother did finally say something, she told me, "and you were saying?"

I was speechless.

So I'm just saying that to say that racism is not something we are born God places in us.  God did not create us to be racist. As children, we get along great. You know you see children playing and having fun. But only when adults get involved and start teaching and telling children the reasons why we should not get along race becomes an issue. It would be nice if we could only stay as little children.

I understand why Jesus said, except you become as little children, we cannot even see the kingdom.

John 3:3 The Message (MSG)

3 Jesus said, "You're absolutely right. Take it from me: Unless a person is born from above, it's not possible to see what I'm pointing to—to God's kingdom."

Children see heaven; they don't see race; they don't see color; they see heaven. The innocence of a child. Jesus said if anyone does any harm or does anything to them, it be better for them to have a millstone hung around their neck and drowned in the sea. 

Matthew 18:6 King James Version (KJV)

6 But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea.

Wow, it all comes down to that.

So as a child, we are born into this world, and we don't have racism; we don't have any knowledge or understanding of what racist is or why we should be hating or why we shouldn't be friends. It's not built-in.  

Being told the words to use, we become imitators of our atmosphere. Being treated as if I was just like anybody else was the right of everyone. So when I would see as a child and as an adult, people were being mistreated because of race, I would say something.

Can racism be unlearned?

Matthew 18:2-5 The Message (MSG)

2-5 For an answer Jesus called over a child, whom he stood in the middle of the room, and said, "I'm telling you, once and for all, that unless you return to square one and start over like children, you're not even going to get a look at the kingdom, let alone get in. Whoever becomes simple and elemental again, like this child, will rank high in God's kingdom. What's more, when you receive the childlike on my account, it's the same as receiving me.