The black experience and my lack thereof.

Continuing from my last 2 columns: I’ve been writing about my personal take and experiences with race here in America. I’ve been trying to figure out why this topic has been weighing on my mind so much lately. Is it the classic “Liberal White Guilt”, or is it something else?

The conclusion I’m coming too is that it’s more about my ignorance than guilt. I wrote in my earlier columns about my friend Al who is black and how we never actually talked about our racial differences. That’s what’s been bothering me so much; the fact that I assumed his life was just like mine.

Growing up and especially in high school I always felt like an outsider. I never even gave it a thought that Al might also feel like an outsider considering that he was so much cooler and more popular than I was. He seemed to fit in just fine to my world but as I think back it didn’t work the other way around.

Al had black friends that still went to the public schools and when he was hanging out with them I wasn’t invited. I have a strong memory of one time when pot was very scarce (it did happen) and Al took me up to a dope house in the “hood” where we bought a nickel bag through a small opening in the front door. I was scared to death because I knew I was most definitely out of place.

I never really thought about why Flint was segregated, most blacks lived in the north end and that’s just the way it was. My wife’s family was one of the many that abandoned the north end as part of the “white flight” in the late 60’s because they didn’t feel “safe” anymore. I wonder how different Flint would be if those families had stayed and actually gotten to know their black neighbors.

I won’t dwell on Flint too much, but since it’s been all over the news because of their water crisis I will give you my two cents worth. The reasons for the water problem is in this order: economics (Flint is poor), bureaucratic (appointed leadership), racial (primarily black population), and political (Republican Governor – Democratic voters).

Anyway, let’s get back to my ignorance (the last paragraph not withstanding). The ignorance I’m talking about is that of a middle aged white guy who doesn’t have a clue about living the “black experience” here in America. Like I said, most of my life I just didn’t think about how different life is for a person of color. I believed the Declaration of Independence when it stated that “We hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created equal…”.

The problem I see is not in that we are created or born as equal humans it’s that we are born into unequal circumstances. Throughout human history it’s always been about the luck of the draw. What situation you’re born into will 99% of the time dictate how your life turns out. With over 300 million people living in the United States that means that a few million will overcome the hardship and succeed as well as a few of us will squander the good fortune we were given.

But back to the black experience and my lack thereof. I know some of the reasons I’ve been thinking about all this is because of the media, in particular Larry Wilmore and the Nightly Show. I know the show is just a not to serious, left leaning, political and social commentary but there is enough in it about being black in America to really make you think.

What it makes me think; is how ridicules it is in this modern day and age to still be judging people as inferior or superior because of the color of their skin. There are so many better ways to judge people; intelligence, physical prowess, artistic ability, compassion, courage, the list goes on and on because everyone is superior or inferior at something than somebody else. The whole point is that we are all individuals regardless of the similarities we may share with other people.

            Blaming the problems and social unrest here in America on race is just a diversion from the true culprits of economics and income inequality. Throughout human history the ruling elites have pitted one or more groups against each other as a way of keeping control of the economy and the power it affords. Skin color is such an obvious difference that it makes it easily exploitable and I for one am tired of seeing so many good people exploited simply because of greed.

To view the column in it's original form go to page 14 of the following link. Winters Express 5/19/16

It's not as simple as black or white.

            Continuing from my last column: Does acknowledging that there’s a difference between being black or white make me a racist or prejudice? I don’t think so, but then again why would I since I’m part of the historically dominant white establishment.

            Let’s start by talking about how humans are different and how we recognize those differences. Think of our brains as using evolutionary software so when we see another person our brain goes through an instant check list, kind of in this order. Big or small, male or female, skin color, facial features, smiling or threatening. After that instant recognition we then start our social responses and or judgments. This is where it becomes about nature verses nurture. It’s natural for us to see a difference but we are taught how to react to it.

            Even though science has proven that a human’s physical appearance has no relevance on their intelligence or for that matter anything else, too many people still believe it does. Those same (for lack of a better word) ignorant people are also passing on those stereotypes and prejudices to their families and communities.

            We’ve seen the results of that ignorance way too much on the news of late. From the obviously racial dislike of President Obama and the reactions towards the Black Lives Matter movement to the rise of the angry crowds rallying around Donald Trump.

            So where does my personal perspective on race come from? Why do I even have one, why aren’t I color blind?

Being a first generation American I don’t have any of that historic slavery baggage or bigotry. Growing up I don’t remember my parents ever talking about race, pro or con. From 5 to 11 years old I lived in Topeka, KS where there was only one black kid in my school. In the summer of 1968 we moved to Flint, MI (1 year after the Detroit riots) and I had my first real experience being around kids of color.

I started going to a school that was at least 50% black and I won’t lie about being scared but then again I was afraid of anything new. I felt tension and some of the black guys were mean, they would “thump” me as I walked to class. I hated those guys, not because they were black but because they were bullies. I was naive to American racial history and why they didn’t like me.

If I’m being honest, I have to admit that those first couple of years in Flint did make me fearful (at that time) of blacks in general and a few black kids in particular.

            In 8^th grade I started at a new private school that unbeknownst to me had been created to get us affluent kids out of the predominantly black public schools. There were only 80 students in the whole school (7^th – 12^th grades) and just a few of them were black. One of those was Al; his family like mine were upper middle class. I’m not sure why we hit it off because we were really different. Not just the obvious black and white thing but as I wrote in my last column, almost everything else.

            The first couple of years (before we got into drugs) that Al and I were friends seemed to me like a normal kid’s friendship. We would ride our bikes out to the mall or across town to other school mates’ homes. We played basketball, watched TV, read comics, listened to music, and talked about girls. I don’t think we ever discussed our racial difference but we knew we were different. To me anyway, it was kind of like the difference between a girl and a boy, very obvious but not very important.

            As we got older, I remember us messing with people out in public by calling each other by racial epitaphs; it was a joke to us. At that time the N-word didn’t mean anything to me since I didn’t know it’s history and I wasn’t around people that used it as a racial slur.

Sure, in hindsight it was insensitive but half of what we said and did back then would be considered insensitive today. My close group of high school friends consisted of a black guy, an Italian/Arab, a Macedonian (don’t call him Greek), an Irish Catholic, a White Anglo-Saxon Protestant, and me, an Atheist Jew. You don’t think we didn’t call each other a few insensitive names?

We were just kids being kids; sometimes we were good and sometimes we were dicks. What can I say? But I’ve run out of space so I will continue this next column.

To view the column in it's original form go to page 16 of the following link. Winters Express 5/12/19