Cleonette asks on the Open Thread: I’m curious: How old were you and what happened when you realized the color of your skin was an “issue”?
Her own story:
I was about 6-years-old. I went to the grocery store with my grandmother ( I was spending two weeks during the summer with her). My grandmother is a very, very fair skinned multiiracial woman, but I am brown skinned. My grandmother loved to shop at Kroger’s and she would go there almost every other day. We came to the cashier counter and the woman, who was white, was familiar with seeing my grandmother come in. They were familiar with each other.
The woman asked on seeing me, “Who’s little black girl is that?”
My grandmother said,”She’s my grandchild.”
“But she’s a black! You have black grandchildren! I don’t think I would like it much if one of my children had a black!”
“I’m black too!”
The woman looked shock and said, ” All this time I thought you was my kind!”
My grandmother left her things and never went back to Kroger’s again.
I remember crying and my grandmother crying. I kept asking my grandmother if she wanted me because I was a black. She didn’t answer, just burst into tears and said she was sorry. I don’t think she knew what to say or how to explain. The woman said “She’s a black” like I was some disgusting nasty thing. I never for got that. It’s burned into my brain.
I loved reading that story and the one by The World We Live In too. If you are a person of colour and have a story I would love to hear it too. And so would others. If you told one on another thread, you can cut and paste it here.
NOTE: If you are white just read, do not comment. This is not the time or place for you to say something. The experiences of people of colour are constantly being dismissed or downplayed by the white world. Not here. Not if I can help it.
On this thread I am going to play benevolent dictator and delete comments as I see fit. If I know or suspect you are a self-identified white, I will delete your comment. I will also kick you off the thread and delete all your comments if two or more commenters suspect you are white-identified.
If any of the following commenters try to comment on this thread they will be instantly banned from the entire blog:
- Bliff
- Randy
- doug1111
- dave
- William Noack
- duckduckgoose
- Gorbachev
- Brahms
- Uncle Milton
- Jay from Philly
- Inconvenient Truth
- FG
FG says he is biracial but he mostly takes the side of white people. So for the purposes of this thread he counts as white-identified.
See also:
I was thirteen years old during the summer of 1973, when my friend Howie and I were riding our bikes into downtown Olean, which was a good five-mile journey for us. We took Front Street as we were getting into town, which follows a route next to the elevated railroad tracks. There were a few blocks of rundown homes in that part of town, occupied mostly by black families. As my friend and I were riding, I noticed a black boy around my age on his porch up ahead and I began to peddle harder and faster.
As I sped by his house, I yelled, “Nigger!”
He replied to me almost matter-of-factly, “You’re one too.”
When my friend caught up with me, he was shocked and he asked me why I had said this. I cannot remember what I said to him, but I certainly recall the reasoning behind my words to the young boy sitting on his porch. Shouting at him, I thought, would help me distance myself from being associated with black people, even though I myself had been called a nigger before by white boys. Every time I saw my reflection in the mirror, I saw a face looking back with brown skin, the same face as the boy I had just leveled a serious racial slur at. When problems arose at school, it was generally due to another child insulting me about my skin color, which they often denied. At some point the other children who attended my all-white classrooms became curious about me. When they called me names or otherwise insulted me because of my dark skin, I would take this all back home to my mother.
Until I reached the age of about fifteen, whenever I came across a black youth—which was infrequent—while in the company of white boys, I would occasionally feel the need to join in their racial abuse. More than once, I took part in scenes similar to the one where I verbally accosted the young boy sitting on his porch. As a teenager, it would boost my ego to speak disparagingly about black people while in the company of white boys. If white boys could call me names, I would in turn call black people names, and I would rationalize this by saying, “I’m certainly not black.” It made me feel better and it also gave me a sense of control, regardless of the twisted logic. My rationale was generally not challenged because I associated exclusively with white people. I posed no threat to them. They were simply curious about me and found me to be amusing.
There was one black family with a son and daughter, both younger than me, who began school a few years after I did. Around two years younger than me, Julius was closest to my age, and his sister was several years younger than him. I never said a word to him in school, and I even remember having feelings of pity and embarrassment about his blackness. He was a very dark-skinned boy, and my dysfunction for being sensitive about skin color helped fuel my disgust for him. I ran across Julius a year or so after I had graduated, and I apologized to him. I did not go into any detail, but I felt guilty for the way that I had ignored him and for the way that I had internally felt about him. During this time period, my feelings could have been compared to those of some white people who have just attended a black-awareness meeting for the first time. I felt a general sense of guilt that I could not put my finger on, which of course made me feel tense around black people.
I was able to cultivate my first friendship with a black man when I was twenty years old and attending college in Great Lakes, Illinois, while I was in the Navy. Roughly the same age as me, David Jackson was from the predominantly black east side area of Cleveland, and he seemed to be very street-wise. I was from the all-white town of Stow, which was only about forty miles south, so we were practically neighbors. Or so I thought. David had been stationed on the USS Ranger, an aircraft carrier home ported in Japan. I appreciated knowing someone who had, what seemed to me at the time, some real naval experience. David also just seemed to know a lot more about life than I did. What would become increasingly apparent to me the longer that I knew him was his awareness of the history or racial disparity in America. He was well aware of the many ways that white people had taken advantage of black people, whereas I had never been educated about this. Looking back, I’m sure that I was very annoying—if not infuriating—to David. He tolerated me for a while, but eventually our friendship turned sour. He called me an Oreo, which was a term that I had never heard of at that point.
I recall one time we had gone to the beach together along with a white friend of mine whose last name was Freeman, My white friend and I sat in the sun on the sand, while David chose to sit underneath a large fishing pier next to us. David never really had anything nice to say about white people, which at first was curious to me and then it just started to get on my nerves. In the mess hall, most of the black sailors sat together, but because of my familiarity with white people I often sat with them. I did this without feeling any guilt, until eventually I became aware of the current of animosity that some of the blacks sailors had for me. To my recollection, nobody ever said anything to me directly, but I did begin to notice that they were looking at me differently and many of the black sailors I had become familiar with began to act differently around me. The more time that I spent around my black shipmates, the more I began to notice that some of them were clearly taken aback by the way that I spoke. My voice would somehow seem to surprise them or catch them off guard. I would get a smile sometimes, while others would change the inflection of their voice. I would find people who thought that I was arrogant or that I was trying to be white. Most people wouldn’t say anything though, and at the time I didn’t know any better anyway. I attempted for a short period of time to imitate so-called black lingo, but I found my efforts to be just as disingenuous and phony as when I observed white people doing the same thing.
While living in Northern California, after my experience in the Navy was over, I dated a black woman for the first time. Her name was Karesia. We met when I was twenty-two and she was twenty-three, and we saw one another for a couple of years. Like me, she had attended college for a while after high school and dropped out. She also had an up-and-down relationship with her mother and stepfather. I got to know her mother and stepfather fairly well. Her father lived in Houston, Texas, and her parents had divorced when she was very young. Her mother grew up in Arkansas and was a former teacher, while her stepfather was a retired lieutenant colonel in the army. She had black friends as well as white friends and she spoke the same way that I did. At some early point in our courtship, I told her the skin disease story, and I will never forget her reply to me. She said, “Your mamma really put a whammy on you!” I remember that on occasion we used to talk about white people derogatorily, and listening to her was yet more of an education for me. By that time I had experienced enough to fully understand what she was saying, as opposed to a couple of years earlier when I would listen to my friend David in the Navy talk about racial issues. As she learned more about my experiences, this young woman was able to provide me with valuable information that I had not considered before. She told me that my mother probably still loved my father, which was something that had never crossed my mind. The only information that I had heard about my father from my mother’s mouth was that she had been raped. Karesia offered me a different perspective. She suggested that my mother had simply been a scared young girl when she got pregnant by my father at twenty years of age. She didn’t know what else to do, and white society certainly didn’t provide her with any real answers. I had never even remotely considered anything like this before, and I thought that it sounded a bit exaggerated or self-important. I had grown up hearing very little about black people and black society, and what I did hear or read was generally negative or condescending. It took some time for me to accept Karesia’s take on the situation. At that point I did not even know who my father was. It would be a few more years before I would hear my mother leave an important message on my answering machine. That message would change my life forever.
All of these events, and many others like them, were precipitated by a lie that my mother told me when I was a young child. The lie that she told me was that my brown skin color was the result of a disease called melanism. I addressed the reason, the circumstances, and the motivation behind this lie in a story that broke in the national news in September of 2005. I have discussed the details of this story at length during an appearance on The Dr. Phil Show and in interviews with Tavis Smiley and NPR’s Ed Gordon, among others.
The story that I want to tell today is about how the lie my mother told me about my skin color indoctrinated me into a sense of confusion about my racial identity that would perplex me as a boy, pervade my young adulthood, and persist for half a century. My confusion about race is one that would shape and mold my relationships with blacks and whites alike. In more recent years, the lie that led to my confusion about my own racial identity has prompted my reflections about race, and the interracial relations between whites and blacks. I have come to be grateful for the unique perspective that my early confusion about my own racial identity has given me on race relations in general.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I copied and pasted this from the “Open Thread” section:
The earliest encounter I can remember clearly was when I was at a conference in Chicago in 1996. I was a member of a national organization for high school Health Occupation Students of America (HOSA). Every year there were competitions for various categories concerning the health field. It starts at the district level, then state, and then national. I entered for the extemporaneous health poster category because of my talent for drawing. I won 1st place in district, and 2nd place in state, and thus I was qualified to compete in the nationals which, needless to say, was exciting. It was my first time visiting the Windy City which wasn’t so windy at the time.
Anyway, the night before the last night in Chicago, there was a dance. I danced with a group of white girls for a brief moment. After words I moved on and rested a bit, when one white girl told me that another white girl told me to stay in my own race.
I didn’t know she said that at the time because the music was blasting. After that, I felt confused and a little offended. (I was way more naive about racism when I was a teen.) I didn’t let it bother me much and tried to enjoy myself during my remaining time.
Still, it was demeaning.
As a side note there was an incident that happened years before Chicago at a video store, but I don’t recall what happened. I was too young, but I remembered it involved an old white man at the register.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I don’t remember all the details of my first experience, mostly because it wasn’t so much a single experience as it was a series of conflicts with a classmate, but first the funny part:
I was five when my family moved to the Poconos. Before that, I’d spent most of my life in Brooklyn surrounded by Black students and Black teachers; the only White people I knew were the pharmacist (who I just written off as weird) and cartoons. So before I walked into my kindergarten classroom I didn’t even know White people existed (I figured they just forgot to color in the cartoons, lol!)
Nevertheless, I had no problem making friends with anyone I wanted to be friends with, except for this one girl. I don’t remember her name, but I do recall thinking she was pretty, and that she didn’t like me because I was Black, to which I responded “but Martin Luther King Jr. got rid of the racism.” So we bullied one another.
Worse things have happened to me later, like being slapped in the face several times on my first day of the second grade, or indirect offenses like CVS refusing to serve my mother when my baby sister was sick, but my first personal experience was relatively mild.
BTW, for the sake of a time reference, I’m 20.
LikeLike
I’ve had negative experience more than I care to remember. But one in particular happened when I was quite older, about 22. I had a huge crush on a young man, who worked in/owned a retail women’s clothing store. He was this gorgeous young man of Israeli background. Whenever I would go there or walk by, we would flirt shamelessly with one another. I was smitten.
One day I was talking to a co-worker, who was a young Mexican woman (mid 30’s); she was widowed young, and her husband had been a white man, who left her relatively well off.
During this time, she was dating several men, some white, some of other race/ethnicities. She asked was I seeing anyone, and I told her, no one in particular, then she began to talk about her dating follies, the guys and their differing mannerisms and so on. We were laughing and giggling like two school girls, when she asked if I had met this young Israeli guy in my neighborhood.
I said, “oh no’, he owns/works in a business downtown, and I mentioned the shop, street etc.. To which she said, she didn’t recall any black businesses downtown on that street. I responded that he was not black, but was Israeli. She responded, “Oh, he won’t date you, why I asked, why do you say that? she says because, “you’re blaaaaack”. She said it so matter of fact and with so much contempt and distaste, and continued to talk about the white and cadre of multi-racial group of men she was dating.
My ‘friendship’ with her was over that day. I remember feeling the pain and shock, and also embarrassment. Pain because she was so oblivious to what she had said, and embarrassment, that, I shared this with her, not knowing that she saw me as less than her, as someone/something that nonblack men would be repulsed by or uninterested in. I had already understood the cultural difference, but overlooked that what she had said, could possibly be true. Whats interesting is that, after that conversation, she never called me again, nor spoke to me.
LikeLike
I’m an Asian-American but I grew up in a small town where I was always the one of the only Asians or minority (if not, the only). I can’t recall my very first experience of racism but I do want to share my most recent experience which was so insulting.
Last semester in college I was working on a group project in one of my Ethical Theory classes. Our group was having difficulty with one of the questions that our instructor wanted us to answer in our research paper about sweatshops. She sat with our group as one of my classmates asked her our question. Now, in my group, everyone else was white. I was the only Asian in that group. My teacher (who is Irish), said to me “Well, since the topic is about sweatshops maybe you have answers about this topic since you are from Asia”
I was like WTF? Because I was so taken aback, all i could muster up saying was “I was born here. I know nothing about sweatshops”.
I just love how she assumed I would know about the topic because I am of the same ethnicity as the sweatshop workers we were researching. I may be of the same ethnicity but not the same NATIONALITY. There is a huge difference! I’ve had many experiences (too many to count) where white people ask me “Where are you from…no really where are you from?” I find it so condescending and ignorant.
LikeLike
I would go back to when I was little, but that’s so far back that I don’t think it’s as relevent as the warping experience I had in Middle School that would change the way I was through high school. I can say that I already had enough racism that I assumed the white barbie was prettier than the other barbies (which drove my Blackfoot grandmother to tears).
For context, I have to say that I am indigenous (mainly Blackfoot) with South Asian, Irish, English, a lot of roots from a tribe in Venezuela, and some African (we are not sure if it is “North African” or “Sub-saharan”…I hate that term by the way). My father looks like a mix between Steve Wilkos and Vin Diesel. That is the common knowledge, though even I admit that there’s always a possibility that we have more in there that we haven’t been able to trace yet.
Being a darker skinned person of color, I had to sit on the line between being the “black” girl everyone ganged up on, and being the “not-black-but-not-white” girl the white kids would use to insult black people (or Mexicans in the Southwest). It sort of depended on my popularity at the time. That’s why I know how aggravating it is when racists claim that people of color all agree with their opinions of black people. I always want to say, “Bull. We know you say the same things about us behind our backs.”
The first traumatizing experience I had was in a science class in 6th grade. I sat next to my best friend at the time, and we had two other white kids on our table. Every day consisted of them asking me racist questions about black girls, as if I was black because I was the darkest girl (I’m not as “dark” as my mother or grandfather on her side . I am medium, with red tones) in the room at the time. They told me I was dirty, they sat there for an hour every day telling me how I smelled, how I was uglier than white girls…they asked me why I never “washed” my hair (even though I constantly did and it was down to my waist). It was daily. The abuse got so bad that I went to a teacher…who decided to tell me to “get over it” and solve my own problem. So I had to sit there and deal with this every day, and my teacher would not help or move me. I was in 6th grade.
What put the icing on the cake was the middle of that year when I was chosen to play Cleopatra for a production. The teacher (in that class) thought I was a good actor and believed I looked the most “authentic” compared to the white and Mexican girls in the class. My friend (still best friend despite science class) decided to throw a loud rant about how Cleopatra wasn’t dark and I wasn’t pretty enough to play her. She decided the roll was for a white girl, despite the fact that I was complimented for my beauty growing up. She just couldn’t deal with having a non-white friend who was seen as something “pretty” or “desirable”. And she made sure I knew how much I was lacking. She even pulled out this “nose” comparison that was something I’d only seen on Stormfront. It was mortifying, and it killed any pride I felt at being chosen. Then, finally, I wasn’t invited to a party every single white friend I had was invited to. I realized my skin got me excluded, but I was allowed to drop off a present. I felt self-conscious the whole day, and just withdrew. I was always the “ugly” girl. I went dateless to almost every dance, every event, and it was always because I wasn’t white enough to be “beautiful”.
All in all, it was too much, and (this would continue through high school to college) I became a patsy of other racist kids who loved me as a friend when I helped their ego, but didn’t want me as an equal, just a servant. I would say just as abusive things about other groups of people, and I felt closer to these people, all the while trying to forget that they said the same things about me. But I started to realize that I was excusing racism against others by hoping it would be directed at them and not myself. I remember going to an event for people of color (mainly black people) at my first university. I remember making myself seem like a total idiot for whining about how black people clearly hated people like me for doing so well. Someone there told me something that I would realize, and that realization would change me: I lost my identity to racism. I was too busy trying to cater to people who I assumed were better than me and had the right to abuse me just because they were white, that I lost my connection to myself. They didn’t like that my father was a prominent man and pillar of his community, and they didn’t like that we had more than they did. And they made sure I knew that no matter what I achieved or how far my family reached…we weren’t white and therefore they were better than us.
I noticed that these “friends” would abandon me the very moment they found their own path. Apparently I was good enough when they needed someone to rag on or use to rag on others, but success couldn’t be “pretty” if you hung out with the undesirables.
That seems to be the common thread with our family. I’m often reminded of Othello. We do well, work our way to success, and then the the people we called friends show their “true colors” and start making demands of us, assuming we owe them for our good fortune purely because (in their mind, due to us not being white) we couldn’t have earned anything without someone like them in our lives. They act like THEY bestowed our life onto us due to finding us to be “acceptable minorities”, they just couldn’t fathom the idea of any person of color doing well without their permission. Then when we don’t cater to them, all of a sudden they start trying to bring us down to their level by claiming that their whiteness would always give them something over us, even though they could have nothing of their own and no aspirations. That’s why I can’t stand IQ arguments, the very idea that someone with no aspirations or drive to succeed will always be better than a brown person because they’re white…that’s so ridiculous. It’s also why I hate the bootstrap argument so much…I always want to say:
“Yeah, we did all of that . Rags to riches, purely through hardwork, dedication, and determination. That still didn’t stop people like you from trying to destroy what we built for ourselves.”
LikeLiked by 1 person
@ abagond:
I’m glad you created this thread. White people who read our stories think we’re always whining and complaining about our experiences and feel the need to make comments. Just be quiet and listen for a change.
@ Carrie:
I’m Asian-Canadian and I can relate to your story. My first experience with racism happened when I was a child. I was around 6 or so. My immigrant parents and I moved to a new neigborhood. It was predominantly white. Not too long afterwards, an incident happened when my parents saw racial slurs used for Asians (the slurs for Chinese and Japanese) scrawled on our garage. Ironically, I’m neither Chinese or Japanese. I guess Asians all look alike to the person(s) responsible for the writing.
Even though I was a child, I knew those words meant something because of the troubled look on my parents’ faces. I asked them what’s wrong and why did those racial slurs elicit such a reaction from them. My mom explained to me someone didn’t like us because we were Asian. I thought to myself in my little child mind, “That wasn’t very nice. They’re so mean.”
My parents removed the slurs on the side of our garage and determined we should try to dismiss what occurred, but then another situation happened. Our car that was parked overnight in the driveway had been smeared with feces and the windows smashed in. My mother and father were obviously upset.
They wondered if they should contact the police, but they did not trust the police. Why? Well, back home in their native country, the police were very corrupt so my parents thought the Canadian police would be just like that. What could they do? My parents were proud people.
For some reason, I don’t know why, but my mom yelled aloud in her heavily accented English, “YOU CAN DO BAD TINGS TO US, BUT WE WILL NOT LEEB HERE!! OKAY! GO AWAY!” And she kept repeating these words and some white people passing by thought my mom was some nut. I guess what my mom did was effective because from that moment on, our property was no longer vandalized.
LikeLike
I forgot to mention the whole situation made me realize my family did nothing except be the wrong kind of people for the neigborhood. Even then, I thought it was ridiculous.
LikeLike
C/P from an online convo my friends and I had about a very similar topic a while ago, coincidentally. In hindsight, I really feel that this incident had been racially motivated. It just didn’t make any sense otherwise, or at all, really(Warning for swearing):
In 3rd grade, I’d written a math problem on a piece of paper, with the answer being “3 more left” and I’d doodled some on it, including some girl’s name in class (Let’s say Rebecca). I eventually crumpled the paper and threw it in the trash. Some days later, I’m called to the prinicpal’s office or something, where my teacher confronts me, holding the paper asking me, very seriously, what I meant by it. I was like,
Me: “Uhhhh, nothing, just doodles and stuff….”
T:“Why did you write Rebecca’s name?”
Me:“I just did. I was thinking of her name and wrote it down.”
T:“Why is it next to the words, ‘3 more left’?”
Me: “I just wrote down a math problem, and wrote what was left.”
T:“Ok, because Rebecca’s mom and Rebecca are scared that you were going to hurt/kill her in 3 days.”
Me: O_O “Whaaa? No!”
T: “Ok, well I believe you, I just wanted to make sure.”
1. Why the fuck are you digging in the trash for papers I’ve written on, Rebecca??!!
2. How is her mom so stupid as to think some 8 year-old would plan a murder like that? How are you so damn scared?
3. Did they even call my mom with their “Concerns”?
4. In retrospect, racist-ass white parents, probably, who thought the little darkie was crazy and violent, and wrote down a future hit on their daughter. IN THIRD GRADE. Good thing Rebecca looks out for her own self-interest by digging in the trash, the dumbass.
End C/p
LikeLike
@ leigh & carrie
I am so sorry that happened to you guys. It’s amazing that these racist think that we are all imaging this. What is wrong with these people?! I see 6 was your magic number as well, Carrie. I know your parents were hurt that you had to experience that. My parents and grandparents were hurt as well.
That is something interesting you said too about people not being able to tell different ethnicities apart. I admit I couldn’t at first either until I start being around more Asians. When I worked at Disney World, there were so many guest from different places that you kind of had to keep up on culture in order not to offend anyone. I can honestly say I never had any of the harassment I had from other people that were there from anyone who was Asian. They were the most family oriented out of any of our international visitors for sure. Honestly speaking, the worst international park guest we had were from Germans, Europeans, and some people of Middle Eastern descent. I don’t want to stray too from the topic but I could tell you some things that would shock you from my experiences with different races and cultures while working at Disney World.
LikeLike
@ cleonette:
My first experience definitely taught me that racist white people will find something to pick on whether it’s your skin color, culture, religion, race, etc. You name it.
LikeLike
Oh, how funny it would be if they tried.:D
LikeLike
My earliest experience would be learning to read the words “Colored” and “White” at the age of three. I went into the wrong bathroom at city hall.
LikeLike
@ Minne B
Wow! Please elaborate.
LikeLike
In my late teens I used to work with this female, a receptionist who initially came across as quite friendly and pleasant. As time went on though, she revealed a different aspect of her personality, you know, the kind of person who would point embarrasing things out about people publicly for their own amusement. Despite this I tolerated her where others avoided her.
Anyway, she and I had been having a series of conversations where she was telling me about her ‘life’ background etc. She started off telling me about her husband who was Italian and how frightened she was about telling her parents about him let alone bringing him home to meet them. This so called ‘foreign’ person (though he was born in the UK) and he wasnt deemed ‘white’ certainly not by her or her family anyway.
She followed this with bringing in a photo album showing me various people in her family. She proudly told me all about everyone then we came across a picutre of a young girl holding a baby. I asked who it was and she told me it was her niece who had got “into trouble” with a black man and ended up having a baby! I did try and probe as to why she used that phrase but I dont recall we go the opportunity to finish the conversation.
The last and most detrimental conversation we had was when she called up to me one day asking me the name of a road in a certain area. I was trying to help her so asked for more information and her response was “you should know it, its where all the Ni66ers live!” I replied “so, why should I know that road – I dont live there” and all she could say was “oh my gosh, dont telll me your offeneded” and she laughed.
Before I ended my call to her I promptly reminded her that the particular road she was referring to was also historically and currently populated by Italian people too and suggested she ask her husband for directions to said area. LMAO
We never spoke again.
LikeLike
@ Cleonette:
I re-read your story and I’m so sorry you were the subject of disdain by that white woman. I can only imagine the shock and humiliation you felt by her disparaging comment.
LikeLike
@ Demerera:
I love how you one-upped her.
LikeLike
I co-sign with cleonette. Please do.
LikeLike
@Oyan
“Oh, he won’t date you, why I asked, why do you say that? she says because, “you’re blaaaaack”. She said it so matter of fact and with so much contempt and distaste, and continued to talk about the white and cadre of multi-racial group of men she was dating.
I can relate to this. A guy fancied me at school and though he had been known to date PoC, we were circling around each other and no progress was being made.
I got on well with a friend of his, who also happened to fancy my so called ‘friend’ and (probably in order to curry favour with me so I would tell my friend who helpful he had been) his mate confided in me why he hadnt asked me out….yet 😉 to which my ‘friend’ (who happened to be white) said “Oh, I thought he might not want to because you’re not white”. Just like that, just out of the blue. I was surprised and said as much to her and she said, “well, white people dont tend to like to date people of a different colour, I know I wouldnt be allowed to”. BTW, I had been round her house many times and her parents had not betrayed this side to themselves.
I pointed out that he had been out with other girls of colour previously so where did she get that rationale from. I was appalled to see her try to ‘rationalise’ why he might have been out with these girls or try to downplay his dating of other people. This was for no ulterior motive other she was uncomfortable with him dating inter racially because she didnt think it was right for white people to do this.
LikeLike
^
Needless to say our ‘friendship’ deteriorated quickly after that.
LikeLike
We lived in a high rise apartment building in a large east coast city. One summer Saturday afternoon (I was around 10) my dad took me, along with a bat, softball and two gloves in tow, to a big park that spanned different neighborhoods. Dad and I were playing catch and taking turns pitching, hitting and fielding by ourselves on an empty baseball diamond in an area of the *public* park a short walking distance away from our neighborhood. We were throwing the ball back and forth when I heard a loud voice come from someone passing by:
“Why don’t *THEY* stay in their own neighborhood?”
I turned around to see who had just spoken and saw a white kid about my age that just asked his father this rhetorical question in a voice filled with annoyed derision.
My father didn’t say anything. We continued playing, and never discussed that incident. My dad wasn’t prone to talking much about anything. Growing up, neither of my parents ever spoke negatively about white people to me. But, listening to occasional bits and pieces of black adult conversations here and there, I came away with the definite impression that black people had to work twice or three times as hard to **perhaps** achieve the same status/income/success/mediocrity as the average white person. I resented that. And I still do.
@ Dave Myers
I’ve read about some of your childhood experiences on the Internet.
Thanks much for sharing your compelling and extraordinary story here.
I once believed that if whites could really see the deep harm racism causes everyone involved, they would give up their racism. I don’t believe that now. Personal experience and other research/studies/etc suggest that many/most whites have no interest in seriously looking at the pain racism causes non-whites – or even the harm it brings to their own souls/spirits/psyches. Whiteness is a powerful ego enhancing/privileged doctrine. Many cannot be moved out of it.
Nonetheless, I’m a *bit* encouraged whenever a rare individual white person attempts to move out of their darkness and into the light of truth.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The most uncomfortable experience I every had was when I was living on Orlando. I had four roommates; we lived in a suit. Two of my roommates were white, Jenny and Sarah, and one was Korean, Sasha. Jenny and I were riding in the car one day. I was in the front seat and two of Jenny’s friends were in the back. The friend who was sitting behind me reached out and grabbed a bunch of my hair and said, “I didn’t know it would feel like that!” Jenny was horrified. I dismissed her friend because I had already experienced the hair fascination before but I felt awful for Jenny. She truly looked like she wanted to cry. When we got to our destination she and her friend got into and altercation about it. Jenny was afraid I would think she was like that.
My roommate Sasha was Korean but she came from an extremely mixed family. Her adoptive mother was Hispanic, he adoptive father was white, her adopted brother was black. Sasha fit absolutely no stereotypes and people really didn’t know how to take her. People constantly asked her what she was. She loved black men, Asian cuisine, rap music, tanning, and surrounded herself with effeminate white, homosexual men. She only smoked cigarettes during her period and drank vodka Jello shots on the weekend. Whenever someone talk to me I think about stereotypes I think about her. She burst them all. She said she went through hell as a kid going up in a wealthy, white community with her weird mixed family. Our little roommate mash up dealt with a lot of racist during that time but it would take pages and pages to write it all.
LikeLike
I have a Cambodian Vietnamese mother and my father is American. They met during the war and I was born in Vietnam. My father brought us back to a small northern WI town. I’ve heard on many occasions- Go back to your country. You don’t belong here you stupid Vietnamese or Cambodian, gook, chink, etc.. I’ve been called the N word along with other terms regarding my color. Then there were the comments implying my mother came here to use my father or she was a bar girl, etc. What? People can’t actually fall in love anymore? “Bar girls” aren’t entitled to love either? However, my mother wasn’t a bar girl. She and my father are truly in love and together this day. Anyone who knows them, it is very evident.
I told some “friends” of my experiences including being called the N word, and they say to me, you are not that dark, you don’t even look black. You look more white. I thought to myself, really, and so what if I was?!?! Would that have made a difference even to you?
One day I was watching my friend’s kids who were black and a man asks me, “Are those yours?”. I replied they are my friends. He said good, I was going to say otherwise what a waste. He said this right in front of the kids loud and clear.
When Colin Powell was considering running for office, an older white woman says to me, “blacks are stupid. who do they think they are? They are not smart enough to run for President”.
Sigh…………..
LikeLike
My interracial family moved to the states for a better life.
I had been homeschooled so going to public school was a big deal for me. As a young, brown skinned girl with an accent, I stuck out like a raisin in a bowl of milk in my school. I was 8.
I had always been a good student. My grandma and parents taught us well. I remember when I walked into the classroom, all eyes followed me. There were some black students…not much but I somehow looked “different” from the rest.
I remember my teacher, a Jewish woman, taking great pains not to look directly in my direction. I used to raise my hand a lot and it seemed to annoy her. Whenever we had a pop quiz, she would take great care to write all over my paper with red ink, correcting my spelling of the words “color”, “flavor” and such. She’d harshly criticize my use of the word “flat” , which is what Americans call tenement apartments.
One day, I was reading out loud a passage in a book. She stopped me in mid-sentence to shout that here in America, we don’t overexaggerate our pronuncations! ” It’s not mys-chee-vee-ous” but ” mis-chi-vus”. “Learn to properly speak!!!” , she commanded me in front of the other students. I stood there, in my little blue dress and bobby socks, trembling with embarassment. The whites in my class howled with laughter while the black students hung their heads.
I don’t know why, but I never forgot that and I’m in my 30’s now.
I’ve always loved school. But from that day on, school became my nemesis. I begged to be homeschooled again but America has such different guidelines for it that my parents said no. I no longer cared to take care with my homework and as a result, my grades began to slip. In one semester, my A went to a C. And, almost as if she was expecting it, my teacher looked at my latest quiz, another bad grade, with a coy, self-righteous smile.
She had won.
Until this day, going to school fills me with dread. I went to college, first year at a physical school, then transfered my classes on-line. On-line is the ONLY way I improve my education now.
When professors know only your social security number, they have no choice but to be unbiased for numbers have no colour.
LikeLike
These stories are making me very emotional. Truthbetold, wow… I have a renewed respect for you. I too have experienced racism in college which prompted me to switch to online classes at a historically white university. Just wow…
LikeLike
Okay, first, I have to say I find the rules for posting in this thread upsetting and insulting. I am a Black and mixed woman and I don’t feel safe posting in this thread because only certain responses are acceptable. I I sided with whites, I would be “white-identified”. Or that if people “suspect” I’m white-identified, my opinions and experiences will be discounted and literally erased. This is understandable but I think a very, very bad idea and really insulting, too. I know who I am and I don’t like being silenced or accused by others, whether they are white or people of color.
Okay, onto experiences.
I think there was a lot of denial when I was a child and in my teens, even up to now. For me, “is this interaction racist” isn’t so much the question as “how much of a factor is racism in this interaction”. I’ve had a lot of interactions that I may not have realized were significantly affected by racism, or may have know but buried it deep in my subconscious.
As a small child, I do remember being a festival and playing with other girls where were white, and hanging a towel over my head because I wanted to have straight hair like theirs. But the first time I consciously experienced direct racism from others was in elementary school. I went to a modern Orthodox Jewish school, and I remember other kids made fun of me because of the color of my skin. I was darker than most of them. However, I was confused, because there was another girl in my class whose skin was just as dark as mine, although her hair was straight. She was probably Mizrahi, or North African. I didn’t understand why they were making fun of me, but not her. She never said anything either way – she was probably afraid to draw attention to herself.
LikeLike
The first real incident that I can recall was at a junior high located in a predominantly white neighborhood in South Texas. This particular day was the Monday after Alex Haley’s “Roots” had come on.
We were playing volleyball in gym class and I missed a spike. I’m short and wasn’t particularly athletic, so it was a bit nerve-wracking for me. So after the miss, a Hispanic chick runs over to me and yells in my face, “KIZZY!” “STUPID NIGGER!” The next thing I knew, we were rolling around on the gym floor and I beat the crap out of her, got suspended and sent home for the day. As much as my Mom was NOT COOL with fighting, she backed me up.
After that, except for the white girls asking me crazy questions about my hair (“why don’t you have an afro?”), and where I lived (“Do you live in the projects?”) and my family (“Do have a brother named JJ?”), I had no more direct confrontations. But over the years, I can look into the eyes (those that actually will do it) of Europeans and pick up “that vibe”, if you guys know what I’m saying.
I appreciate this forum and the opportunity to share. Peace.
LikeLike
Shenu Ra (glad you chimed in)
“But over the years, I can look into the eyes (those that actually will do it) of Europeans and pick up “that vibe”, if you guys know what I’m saying.”
********
I do.
They transmit “that vibe” in a myriad of unconscious ways that our built in “vibe” antennas – after 400 years – are quite attuned to.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The first experience I had of white racism was when I was three. My mother took me out ‘trick or treating’. I was dressed as a calypso dancer. When we came to one door, the white woman who answered it, implored her husband to come and look at the “cute little nigger”. I don’t recall if the husband ever did as my mother got me out of there real quick.
When I got home, I ran to my father and exclaimed; “Mom got mad at some lady for calling me an eagle”! My father was perplexed until my mother explained it to him. Coming up, nigger, spook, jungle bunny, spear chucker, hockey puck, porch monkey, appears to have been the name on my birth certificate according to these white folk. There is safety in numbers however. With the onset of mass immigration from the Caribbean, this type of blatant racism went underground to be replaced by the more covert kind. Lucky for me I was taught the signs and modes of behaviour from my grandmother in particular. My granny had some colourful ways of saying things and explaining them!
LikeLike
My first experience was in the second grade. I was raised to always respect adults and to see teachers as these great people that always wanted the best for you. My mother believed this because she had such wonderful teachers throughout. But she grew up in the South during the time when schools were segregated and she had fabulous Black teachers that encouraged her to believe that she could do anything.
Dealing with Mrs. Anthony at 7 years old in Chicago, IL was anything but encouraging. When I entered second grade, math became more difficult for me when I was introduced to fractions. The more questions I asked the more she would make hurtful comments about my intelligence and would embarrass me by making me stand at the board to solve a problem while she made the comments. At seven I had no idea why she was doing this (other than she was a mean lady) and it continued for more than half the school year until she made the comment that I might as well give up because “my little Black self would never be smart enough to understand”. I said nothing.
I went home that day and told my Mom that I didn’t want to go back to school. When she asked me why, everything that I had been holding in spilled out with a truckload of tears which is why I didn’t notice my Mom’s reaction at first. She was angry. She tried to encourage and comfort me but Mrs Anthony had a huge head start on destroying my self-confidence so it was hard to let it go and it followed me for years. The next day my mother went to school with me and had a conversation with Mrs. Anthony that was very eye-opening for me. I never had another problem with that lady but I was terribly happy when that year ended.
Despite that first experience with racism it would surprisingly take a few more overt incidents (all before the age of 13) to convince me that it was better to be cautious when it came to white people. Caution was definitely the best way to remain safe after moving from Chicago,IL to Louisiana.
LikeLike
My only experience with overt racism/ bigotry was as a freshman in high school. I was becoming friends with a girl who was White. We were in the early stages of becoming friends. We hadn’t even hung out outside of school or anything.
Anyway, one morning we were on campus and it was before 1st period. We were talking and got into a disagreement about something, which I can’t even remember, and she called me the “N” word.
I don’t remember feeling hurt. Maybe because as I said we were only just becoming friends. We hadn’t confided anything personal with each other or anything like that. So I just never talked to her again.
Other than that I have been fortunate I suppose. I’ve never faced overt racism. As for covert racism, well who knows. That sort of thing is so hard to quantify. Jobs I’ve applied for or apartments or promotions; it’s hard to know when race is playing apart or not. I suppose that’s what makes racism so insidious. That it can be so hard to identify when it is in its institutionalized form.
LikeLike
@ Cleonette
Thanks.
It’s funny because whites wonder why blacks “underperform”.
It has nothing to do with intelligence but with having someone crush your self-confidence. If you are constantly being told, especially from a young age, that you’re destined for failure…you start to believe it.
Why try?
I seldom hold back my feelings on this blog so I’ll admit a secret to you…whenever I’m in a room filled with whites, my heart pounds, my body gets that “cold fever” sensation, my mouth and tongue feels heavy, I start to look for exit signs or ways to escape if need be. And yes, I too can feel their monstrous “vibe”. I feel a feeling that can be best described as dread.
I sense something, anything is bound to happen. An assault, an insult, physical, mental, whatever. It’s so strong, I begin to anticipate it even they are on their best behaviour.
It’s like the proverbial monster in the closet waiting for you to fall asleep…
LikeLike
Well I was born and raised in Africa until my early teens(14) when my parents migrated to England. So I had no prior experience of racism. I never really ever interacted with white people in my life. In my country, whites were rich, saw them occasionally mostly in some expensive car or some big jeep/truck going on safari but never really spoke or interacted. I should also mention that I never interacted to western blacks either, to be fair before I even stepped foot outside my country I was racist towards western blacks. I say this because my first experience of a western black was back in my country, at the main airport where I saw like 3, clearly american you could tell from the accents. Had chains acting all gangsta and stuff causing a huge commotion, I can say right now that I felt revulsion. Atleast that is how I would describe it, what I felt about them wasn’t what I felt about the other blacks that I encountered in my country or other african countries I have visited. Now thinking about it, I don’t think it was them as people, but the culture they represented. Standing there watching them acting all gangsta and stuff, like stereotypical gangsta like what you see in rap videos, it was like “Why are you acting that way?”.
Anyways we moved and we got a house in a mostly white neighbourhood in London. Since I was straight out of africa and all my education was based in africa, the local council didn’t want to put me in a good school. They didn’t explicitly say this but my only options were mostly black schools which happened to rank the worst in the Borough/District. My parents had no problem with the types of people attending, they had a problem with the rank of school.
Anyways, my mother refused to enroll me to the schools that I was eligible for and instead she got a list of all the top schools and everyday we went there with my report cards from my home country. She would demand to see the headmaster to personally plead for me to get in. Most said no, but one said yes. My grades were good enough, and within 2 weeks I started there. The students were mostly white, their were asians aswell(Indians) and blacks as well. In any one class they’d probably be a maximum of 2 other black kids.
I found it easy to befriend white students compared to blacks. So nearly all my friends were white apart from some few Indians. My first racist experience came when some of my mostly white friends started to ask me how big my penis was. What? Turns out there is a morbid fascination with penis size and black people are meant to have really big ones… Anyways that question has plagued me ever since. Another thing I also always find myself doing in front of white people is defending rap/hip hop… Weird.
One thing I have noticed about interacting with white people, is there is to much hype about them. In my part of africa white people are super glorified. A white person is like a demi-god, you have no idea. Somehow it hasn’t sunk in that “You see them as demi-gods and they see you as monkeys”. Makes me sick to see most of africa still hasn’t grasped this basic concept. I remember once my friend telling me about his dad who went to africa on a golfing holiday. He had this local caddy who would go above and beyond what was required. Once his dad hit him with the golfball and you know what the caddy said “It’s ok boss”. He just said it almost immediately. He would go into lakes to find the golfball without hesitation. I could see the glee in my friends eye whilst he is telling me this story. That caddy pretty much represents how most black people in africa act around white people, even when they are getting screwed over.
LikeLike
Warm and sincere greetings all =) I posted this today on ‘Open Thread’ to clarify some comments I made yesterday:
My beloved Group of Friends:
As a youngster growing up in Seoul, my “Blasian” best friend self-identified as ‘Black’ to the social and economic detriment of her family; And, in the US, in a time when Tiger Woods and others were quantifying each allele and haploid group to deflect any of the negative social connotations associated with ‘blackness’, she legally and socially identified as ‘Black’. Personally, at the time, I found this odd and believed she was betraying half of her roots. With the passing of time however, our relationship deepened and thus my understanding and my respect behind her choice grew immensely and to this day, remains solid.
I met the ‘motley crew’ when working w/ an HIV/AIDS non-profit back in mid-90’s. “Blasian” was a phenomenally talented, creative, and intelligent woman who would rock a Mohawk, bald head, bleach blonde, or whatever she felt like, and this is what I admired about her! As for myself, if you’ve read my ‘snapshot’ experience w/ racism, I was rockin’ a shaved head at the time, LOL!! (Still couldn’t keep those old white men away from me!)
Main rationale for mentioning friends:
1) Each and every one of us was detrimentally affected to varying degrees by ‘cultural’ hegemony.
2) Their premature deaths could have been delayed or prevented if not for cultural hegemony.
* Blasian: piss poor insurance; diagnosed w/ rare disorder; insurance would not approve required medical care needed to save her life.
*Jewish Draq Queen: Victim of Domestic Abuse at the hands of his on the down low partner (who so happened to be white and married w/ child) . (Law enforcement at the time didn’t take LGBT domestic violence seriously at the time)
* Transgender: Stigma and $. Back in the day, HIV/AIDS Rx was $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
And, finally, my husband and I are seperated and not divorced; however, the racism I experienced with his family was highly refined and covert. Invited to all events, gifts exchanged…….but there was always distance and coldness. Once families began to grow, and children began to speak, the ugliness behind the scenes was brought to light. I know my husband is deeply in love w/ me and I still love him, and I know he ‘gets it’ as best as he can, but unfortunately for him, his level of understanding is deeply inadequate (and he was one of the ‘aware ones’), family unity seems to be of greater importance to my family than his, and quite frankly, I’m done teaching folks basic humanity.
I am not against inter-racial relationships b/c I do not believe in race, but I do believe their are real consequences to these fake categories we call race. So, given that, my 1st preference is certainly ‘Black’ men and after that any man of color, but I truly am done with “whiteness” as a life partner. To take this journey with me, you’ve got to know where I come from, what I’m going through, and where I and the collective we are trying to go.
LikeLike
@ Ace
I too am Native, a Lakota. My grandma married a black man and had many children. I feel your story because being black, Indian AND foreign with a mixed family ( we married asians who are Jamaican Rastas,( imagine the looks we get when my brother-in law speaks in Patois!!!!), latino( Italian and Puerto Rican) and English.
We don’t “fit” either.
I understand.
LikeLike
Thanks so much for holding this space… and.. for all those who participated in this thread.. we are all so much more alike than different..
The first experience I remember is my Mom losing it in sometime in elementary school because some kid called me nigger..
At the time I was not sure what the word meant.. at least I do not remember having a visceral reaction to it…at this point I had had my first fight, and the word nigger was not the reason I took the girl out….
need I mention that I grew up in a smallish town in Virginia…. the area where we moved from was a great deal more.. diverse.. I think my mother was more hurt about someone calling her child a nigger than I was..
oddly black history conversations or even long term relationships with black people was not something my family openly and normally did. My mother moved us to the white side of town and made it clear that just because we were black did not mean that we needed to be with black people….She had black friends, but did not keep them. My Dad did what he wanted on the sly :).. and I had one close black friend I did not keep connected to when I hit my teenage years, due the private school I was sent to..
While still in public school, my parents came to school for parent teacher conference. The teacher gave my mother the wrong report card. You see, there were three black kids in class. Even though I was the only girl, the teacher had gotten us confused and given my mother the wrong report card.
My Mother proceeds to throw a fit and put me into a private school named after a confederate general.. vintage confederate flag hanging in the parlor and everything… because somehow, this private school (which at most had 5 black students at once durring my tenure) was a safer place to be.
LikeLike
@Truthbetold
I understand too because my family from both sides are from the Caribbean aka Jamaica to be exact and when they came here they just didn’t fit in. They fit in better now. Although I was born in New York, I have these African Americans asking me why I have the accent I have. I say that I am Jamaican.
I never feel like I fit in with African Americans at all no matter how hard I try.
My first experience with White racism was when I was five years old. Heck when I was three years old I knew the difference between White and Black! Anyways I wanted to play with this blond hair and blue eyed girl and her parents said no. Then I heard her father and his faily talk about Blacks and Jews like dogs. It really hurt me as a five year old.
I know not all Whites are like that. But enough of them are that I am writing this down to you.
LikeLike
WOW! Abagond….my friends… carthartic…reflections of self…tears..and i’m not even finished reading! Cleonette and Aba great idea- Thank you!
LikeLike
@ ALL : A deep valley of appreciation is extended to you all for sharing your stories.
LikeLike
Funny how most of these stories takes place in school/college/dorms/ “educational” areas….
LikeLiked by 1 person
Great thread Abagond, thanks!
“NOTE: If you are white just read, do not comment. This is not the time or place for you to say something. The experiences of people of colour are constantly being dismissed or downplayed by the white
world……………………………………………….”
BRAVO!
And kudos to you Cleonette for the opening move!
I realized the colour of my skin was an issue at the age of about 8.
It was in an Ice Cream Parlour in one hot summer afternoon somewhere in Seattle, I was with my aunt Katy. When she went to the bathroom, she asked the shop owner to please keep an eye on me.
There was this little white girl gazing at me, maybe we were the same age.
She was with her mom; she was eating her ice cream while her mom was on the cellphone with someone.
One of the dolls I was playing with fell on the floor, and the girl came over to me and helped me picked it up.
I thanked her ; and in my naively innocent manner i offered her some of my ice cream, although she had hers because I wanted to show her my appreciation.
She smiled, nodded her head and shyly said ” no thanks”.
And she later said” Ok, let me have some of yours”!” And i offered it to her, all of a sudden her mom stopped her conversation on the phone when she noticed that her daughter and i were talking, she came over to us and yelled at her, dragged it from her and gave it back to me; she hauled her daughter along and while i was trying to come to her daughter’s defence, she just gave me a nasty and vile look ( something i haven’t and can never forget in my life)
The shop owner who witnessed the whole scene tried to calm her down; but she just ignored him. And while they were walking away, i overheard her saying to her daughter:” Darling, how many times have i told you not to go around people like that?”
And the girl said” But why mom? She doesn’t look like Jane, Angie and her brothers” .
And her mom replied” It doesn’t matter, they’re all blacks and they have nothing in common with us. They’re different from us and you must always be around people like you, it’s for your own good!”
And the girl went on and said “Mom her skin isn’t as dirty as Jane’s and the rest, her hair is not terrifying (I had waist lenght curly hair).
Her mom added, ” maybe she might look less dirtier if she had her bath 5 times a day, she said it while laughing out loud, scornfully”.
And I started sobbing; it is something I haven’t and will never forget” . I’m in my late twenties, since then I have encountered both overt and covert racism but the experience in that Ice cream parlour is still vivid.
When my aunt Katy came back, the shop owner told her the whole story.
And she was shocked.
On our way back home, i turned to my aunt and asked her if she thought i would look much cleaner if i had my bath 5 times a day, i could remember that tears fell from her eyes, she tried to hide them but i noticed it and asked her why she was crying; she didn’t say anything, she just hugged me and we started crying together in the car (right now, as i am writting, i feel like crying).
But i won’t because i have grown to become a strong and confident black woman; thanks to my mom, my dad, my whole family and aunt Katy.
And all what they taught me have and is still very useful and I hope to pass them over to my children(when i start having them; I hope to have a boy and two girls) and to my grandchildren as well.
Because unfortunately, racism is still very much alive, and i wouldn’t want them to be weak psychologically.
I wish for myself and everyone, happiness and serenity in this troubled world in which we live .
.
LikeLike
My first memorable experience was when I was in middle school. There was one light skinned girl at my church that I was friends with and a few other children that were lighter than I. I am of the darkest skin color and kinkiest hair you would normally find in the United States on blacks. Thus, they would constantly make fun of how black I was, It bothered me enough to where I stopped going outside so much in the summer because I didn’t want to be any blacker than I already was…
LikeLike
@ Truthbetold
“Funny how most of these stories takes place in school/college/dorms/ “educational” areas….”
Yeah “educational” areas is where you first encounter the rest of society for the first time in full force. Then afterwards it’s the workplace. In between “educational” and “working” areas you can kind of tailor your experiences but in those 2 specific areas you have a sort of “powerlessness”. Obviously this is assuming that your home life is a healthy one because that can be a prison also.
Also it’s worth mentioning “educational” areas is where the government has free reign to pretty much brainwash *cough cough* I mean “educate” without pesky parents coming inbetween them and the kids. Workplaces on the other hand are dictatorial, not democracies so there its pretty much a roll of the dice that your experience is a positive one.
LikeLike
I just keep coming back….wow! Dear readers, the challenges you’ve faced from those we call educators truly broke my heart…..I sooooooo relate…ugh.
During HS a teacher once told me, in front of the class mind you, that I was in fact stupid and actually wasting my time in what was then termed the “honor-track”, I guess she just wanted to let me in on something she thought I needed to know. You know, white folks like to do that- mark your parameters. What stinks about the whole thing, I didn’t even tell my parents. Man, if I had only parted my lips to tell, they would have been up there raising you know what!
LikeLike
@Truthbetold
My family is from Jamaica and I can relate to you and Ace I guess we are a different breed of Blacks. lol.
I was born in New York and Black Americans always ask me why I talk the way I talk. I say that my family are Jamicans. Yes, both sides of my families are Jamaicians.I don’t seem to fit in with Black girls my age and I hardly have Black friends. The only Black friends I have is Candance and her family is from the Caribbean aka Trinidad as well.
Candance is light skinned and looks Indian aka racially ambious Black girl. I am guessing you look racially ambious as well, Truthbetold from the racial mixing.
Me and Candance are close friends and we don’t fit in with Black girls our age. No matter how hard I try, I never fit in with Black Americans. Technically I am Black American but I say I am Jamaican because both my parents were born in Jamaica, most of my family lives in Jamaica and I have more cultural and ancestral ties to Jamaica than I do to America.
I am just proud of my Jamaican heritage and plus don’t hate me for that.
As for my first experience with White racism, I was 5 when I experienced it. Heck, I knew the difference between Black and White people from the time I was 3! Yeah I wanted to play with this little White blond girl when I was little whil visiting my mother’s cousin in Long Island and her father said I couldn’t play with her because I am the wrong color. I find him nsay derogoratory comments about Jews and Blacks to his family members. You didn’t know how much 5 year old me was hurt by this.
LikeLike
@ Adeen
Yes we are a most diverse family and while I look black “enough” you can see that somethings been diluted, think The Rock, Vin Diesel, Jimmy Smits and Thandie Newton.
Be proud of who you are and hold fast to it. There will be a lot of people who will try to tear away your pride.
LikeLike
@’Just Larissa’.
I used to work with this lovely black girl, as in, very pretty. I’m not Beyonce nor Halle Berry, but I think I was very nice looking. I could tell that she was used to other black women being intimidated by her light skin, looks, but i was not, because I knew I was ‘good’ in the looks department as a brown-skin.
One day, she and I happened to sit together, and she was talking about her many suitors, some of who were white, I merely shrugged, and kept working. Then she says to me, if a white male brought me home, even though I am black, his family would be accepting because of my lighter skin;however, if a white guy were to bring you home, his family would be horrified. I told her, I would first find out what kind of people he came from, then choose to not go there. I then told her, you and I both could face family disapproval, me potentially for my ‘darker’ skin tone, and you because your’e stupid.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m a black American female and I went through the same stuff in class. I live in a nice suburban neighborhood in California and I was asked, ” why do black’s tear up their own neighborhood?” by my white jewish teacher. I just blinked remembering every head turned in my direction. The only black person in the class and I kept to myself. I was only 13 years old! I had never torn up a neighborhood in my life, I certainly wasn’t the voice for every black person in the world.
But there, this woman stood staring at me expectantly, a smile curving on her face as if she had told a joke. She had told one at my expense. I sat there silently and finally answered “I don’t know.”
How was I supposed to answer that question.
But this teacher said,”Well you must, you may not look like and talk like the stereotypical black person but you know you are black, right – why are they that way?”
Of course I know I’m black, I see my face every morning.!
It was the most condensing tone ever.
She also told a joke later in the year, I’ll always remember. “You know what some white people say about blacks, what is a black man in a suit , still a ni**er
I felt my face grow hot as everyone laughed nervously. I felt hot through first period but I said nothing.So basically, no matter how smart I was, how I passed all my classes, I was still a dirty word.
Through the whole year of the AP English class, when we read about African Americans she would speak about stereotypes of blacks using me as an example. “Most blacks look this way, can we think of all the things that come to mind when we think of black males and females?” she would draw a venn diagram.
“But Lili doesn’t have one of those doughy noses and she actually has nice hair,” one of the white girls said raising her hand timidly. Ummm thank you, I guess?
“What else are blacks stereotyped as?”
“Loud and ghetto.”
“Plus black females are big and strong, many are overweight,” she called this incorporating “accepting cultural diversity” in her English class. This was english not sociology, might I add.
She even played a tape in class and we listened to dialogues for an English project, she played the most “Ghetto broken” speak and turned to me and questioned,”And what race is she by her dialect, Lili?”
The whole class started to snicker. I shrugged ,”Race doesn’t determine dialect”. “But – you can tell what race she is obviously, because every black person talks like this, right?” she nodded.
“But I don’t,” I said.
I knew I didn’t speak that way.
My parents wouldn’t have it.
She beadied her eyes and said ,”Sure but your family does , right?”
“No , no one in my family speaks like that.”
So we stared at each other.
I could hear the snickering growing into laughter. I held my breath and she shook her head in obvious disagreement. She rolled her eyes at me! “They talk like that at home – I know they do – they might speak properly but at home it’s different, they speak that stuff ,” she said looking over my head surveying the class.
Ugh, I cried every night freshman year. I hated that class. I even heard kids talking about “those black people” as if I were deaf. Not caring if I were around or had feelings. This was in the year 2008 not 1968. I never told my mother or father about that. Ever in my life.
Anyone who says racism is dead, is out of their mind.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Gosh, reading everyone’s personal experiences of racism makes me want to hug you all. I may not know any of you, but I can “feel” the pain coming out of these stories.
LikeLike
@ Carrie
Although, I’m not Asian American. I can relate to that story as well! I went through the same sort of bothering by my teacher. She asked me why “Africans couldn’t rule their own country?”
Plus, many people see telling your story of racism is whining in general. No, I won’t say anything about it unless asked or prompted to speak of racism. Calling it whining is denying someone’s reality which is very ignorant and border-lining denial. I wish everyone could just embrace or tolerate each other, you don’t have to push your hierarchy internal beliefs on others, it’s so mean!
LikeLike
You all are so strong and I really appreciate everyone sharing their experiences. You all have experienced so much and yet have grown to be such caring, fun, affectionate, smart, and wonderful individuals. I wish I had strength like you all to share my experience(s) but right now I just can’t. Just thinking about it still hurts. This thread is simply amazing and will just bring us all closer.
LikeLike
A 1960s bus “sightseeing” trip with my mother and one of our neighbors included traveling from the south side of our all-black world to the northern part of the city. This was just something my mother and her neighbor friend wanted to do to pass time that Saturday. I was my mother’s youngest child at the time and tagged along for the experience.
A downtown bus transfer required exiting the first bus and entering the one that would take us North. We reversed the process to return to our black world later that day.
On the second bus, Mama and (I’ll call her) Dorothy (because I honestly do not remember her name) sat together near the back of the bus on a bench seat. Alone, my 5-year-old body occupied the bench seat in front of them where there was enough room for one more person to sit.
After we traveled some distance, a white family of three (father, mother, and tween son) entered the bus that had seating room for three more people. There was one empty bench seat and the space next to me.
I remember thinking how very silly the boy looked with his long legs dangling from his father’s lap where the father forced him to sit instead of next to me. The boy, who initially approached the empty seat next to me, probably felt as ridiculous as I thought he looked and perhaps as bewildered by his father’s venomous command when he attempted first to sit by me, “You’d-better-not-sit-there!” After a moment of silence and stopping dead in his tracks, the boy sat on his father’s lap. At the time, I didn’t understand why the father did not want the boy to sit next to me, but I could “feel” the silent shock of the other bus riders.
Later on, after becoming a shocked witness of black and white televised beatings, fire hosings, and dog attacks on African Americans during the Civil Rights Movement, the revelation that my skin color was the reason the boy was not allowed to sit by me became obvious.
LikeLike
Last year or year before I went through the drive thru at a McDonald’s. The way it was setup was one driveway to go in and another driveway for the drive thru people to exit. We had an order that took time so I parked in this little path that curved around towards the the driveway for entering. Well the white moron in the SUV behind me thought the way to exit was to curve around go out the way we went in. He starts honking at me and telling me that I’m blocking traffic – even though the exit driveway was literally right in front and everyone behind him figured it out – and yelling at me out his window. We yelled for him to take the actual exit and go around, but he just wouldn’t listen to reason. Then he says really loudly, “STUPID FUCKING NIGGERS” and drives off.
The earliest experience I can remember is when I was around 12 or so and I went to Circle Lake Camp (all girl Catholic camp). One of the fellow campers was this little white girl. Her grandmother was the camp nurse. That woman didn’t want to be around me and didn’t want me around her granddaughter. I’d go see the nurse for allergies and she wouldn’t touch me unless one of the nuns or someone was around. One night I cornrowed her daughter’s hair and the next morning the girl’s hair was undone and they both in the grandmother’s car and were leaving the camp. A little Black befriending your granddaughter and doing her hair incites that much hatred in your heart you have to drive off and let her miss out on a camp experience?
LikeLike
E-hugs to you all (yes, I’m one of those-very affectionate, lol)!!!!! I can’t thank you guys enough! I’m really going through it w/ the seperation and all…turned my world upside down. ugh. So,I just wanted to say thanks for sharing. And even if you were unable to share, its ok, I believe all of us here understand. In solidarity my friends!
LikeLike
Reading these stories are a true testament to our spiritual, God given strength.
No one but us could survive such a mental and sometimes physical beating and still be able to experience love and joy.
We are truly a blessed people.
LikeLike
“No one but us could survive such a mental and sometimes physical beating and still be able to experience love and joy. We are truly a blessed people.”
******
amen to that!
@The World We Live In
I’m feeling you. : )))
LikeLike
Abagond,
Thanks for providing this thread. It is much needed.
LikeLike
@Truthbetold
You are right. Yes, we people of color go through so much.
@Lilianna
I am a Black girl who lives in the suburbs as well and I can tell you that I was bullied by White girls and self hating Black guys in my freshmen year and I went home crying too(well at the very last day of school in freshmen year). A lot of the Caucasian kids would say some very racist comments about the President and Blacks in general. They would ask me if I knew what drugs were and I said no and they said that they thought I was going to do it anyways. I was so upset! I DON’T EVER DO DRUGS! What did they think I was, a crack baby?
I can relate to all of these stories because they show that Whites, majority of them, are still ignorant racists and that we don’t live in postracial America. We can’t when a lot of Whites think Blacks and other non Whites are inferior beings. And of course, alot of Whites stll think Blacks are a dirty word, ALOT of their grandparents and great parents were lynching our grandparents to great grandparents back in the day. Segregation and lynchings weren’t that long ago at all neither was the separate fountains for Whites and ”Negroes” or Coloreds”. So all of a sudden, we expect them to think that they aren’t racist anymore and think they we are equal. Haha not quite there!
This isn’t go for all Whites but a lot of them. There are some very decent Whites out there. I don’t think all Whites are racist but a lot are.
Please don’t think I am bitter I am just trying to get the truth out there. Plus I am 16 and Black teens my age think I am weird for looking things up and knowing about history. Wake up, knowing your history is the only thing that will take us forward not backwards. We can’t afford to be ignorant anymore!
LikeLiked by 1 person
@ Adeen,
I don’t think you are bitter. I think it shows the problems in our societies when people who think about race are considered “wrong” or “bitter”.
LikeLike
First of all, I would like to send a big hug to everyone here who has shared their experiences. *HUGS* I am so sorry for all the pain you have been through because of others’ racism.
Thank you to Cleonette for bringing up the topic and to Abagond for giving us a safe space to talk about it.
I am half East Asian, half White and was born and raised in the UK. I am not sure which experience I should truly count as my first experience of racism. There were things done to me and my parents when I was a baby, meaning I do not recall them. I only know what my parents have told me. I suppose that would truly be my first experience. Then there are the first experiences I was aware of and that I knew were wrong somehow. So I will list both.
When I was a baby, my parents and I lived in a flat. One of the neighbours was a White Polish man who was convinced my father was Japanese and he hated Japanese. He would lie to the landlord, saying that my family were noisy and that we would fling soiled nappies (diapers) out the windows and litter the grounds. When my mother would come home from grocery shopping, she had to leave my pram at the bottom of the stairs while she carried all the bags up to our level. He would always be watching and would run out of his flat and violently shake my pram while she was upstairs.
The first experiences I was aware of all happened in primary school, from the ages of 5 to 11. As lots of kids of East Asian descent must be familiar with, I got the `Ching chong, Chinaman!’ and `chink’ taunts thrown at me, as well as some kids pulling stupid faces and making bizarre, high-pitched noises as they did `martial arts’ poses and flung punches and kicks in my direction. My `non-British’ surname was also mocked endlessly.
There were other things that happened to me, where I was not 100% sure it was because of my race, but there certainly did not seem to be any other explanation. There was only one other girl I remember of the same background as my brother and I (mixed East Asian and White) and two Chinese girls. The rest of the school was mostly White with a few Black and South Asian children.
For example, every time I was in the playground kids I did not even know would go out of their way to kick their football at me. They were very happy when it smacked me in the head from behind and I fell and hit my head again on the wall. Or this one teacher who would always punish me and make up something that I was doing wrong. I was always a quiet, well-behaved, hard-working student, so there was nothing else I could think of as to why she would act like this. I would be sitting on a table alone and she would scream at me to stop talking and make me sit in the corner. She would tell the class instructions, but then come to me and tell me I was doing it wrong and `correct’ me. Once I had followed what she had told me, she would hold up my work and tell the class, `THIS is how you do NOT do your work. THIS is completely the OPPOSITE of what I told you to do.’ etc. Then tell me my work is appalling and to do it again. One time we were painting by using old toothbrushes to flick the paint onto the paper. She tried to get me to flick the paint into my own face by telling me to rub the bristles the other way, but I was too intelligent to fall for that.
Then there was this one girl who pretended to be my friend and spread lies and rumours about me. She gathered together a gang of kids during lunch and had them chase me around, hurling dirt and stones at me. Sadly, this was not the only time I was pelted with stones and the other times it was definitely due to the race of my brother and I because they screamed for us to `Go back to China!’ and `Get the f*ck out of our country!’ along with the usual `chink’ and `ching chongs’ that we always have to hear. We’ve also had dog faeces shoved through our letterbox, eggs thrown at our house, gangs turning up with baseball bats and, once, an attempt to hurl a brick through the window that would have hit me in the head had it been a few centimetres higher and had not collided with the window frame.
@ the world we live in
I don’t know if you would be comfortable with sharing in the Open Thread, but I am very curious about your experiences being married to a man with a racist family. My husband is very aware and supportive, but he has no idea how to handle some of the comments from his family. I myself am afraid of being ganged up on if I say anything. Many times it is clearly extreme ignorance, but for the parents it can sometimes border on blatant racism. It’s a very difficult and painful position to be in. If you have any advice to give from your experiences, I would be very grateful!
LikeLike
Actually, I was wrong about my first experience. I was in kindergarden. I had two best friends; one was mixed (Black and White) like me, and the other was blonde and blue-eyed. Most of the kids in my class were white or at least lighter than I. So my blonde friend, K was playing in the toy house with these other girls, and my other friend Y and I wanted to play, too, but the ringleader of that group wouldn’t let us play with them. I couldn’t understand why, but Y explained to me that it was because we were Black. Y was mad at K, and I was , too, on principle. I was in my own world a lot, and I didn’t really notice things going on around me, and I just didn’t think about it that much, although it did upset me.
LikeLike
Though I can’t chronicle any specific incident, as a midle-class black child growing up in Louisiana, often in predominantly white settings, I experiented plenty of “why won’t those kids play with me” moments, or going into any class carrying the presumption that I would be one of “bad kids.” This continued when my family moved to Texas. Admittedly though, my nature still makes me hesisitant to call out racism even when I see behavior that is blatantly racist
LikeLike
These stories…wow. They are hard to read.
@Wilson, I agree with you. Africans have this almost god-like reverence for white people. Its disgusting! I think a big part of it is that we don’t grow up around them and really don’t know what they REALLY think of us. Plus, Africans see them as conquering and marauding tribes people who managed to conquer the whole world and therefore they are superior. We admire their societies and after being told for so long that we are inferior to them, we now believe it.
Anyway, I grew up and still live in Kenya with very little interaction with white people. The ones who lived where I grew up mostly intermingled with one another and did not let their kids really play with us. I remember that they would bring their children to the pool after all the African kids had left. They never let their kids swim or play with us.
My first experience with a racist mean white person was when I had just finished high school and was waiting to go to university. In my country, public transport consists of mini-vans which sit about 14-25 people. So these two blonde white women entered into the car and when it was time to pay a quarrel ensued with the tout (ticket man to you guys) about the fare price. They thought he had overcharged them because they were white. I being the nice black African, smiled and told them we were all paying the same amount no one was taking advantage of them, one of the girls looked at me with such hate and said “shut up you stupid girl, I did not ask you to talk to me!” I was shocked. Then she and her friend who had been holding their noses the whole time turned and said to the other girl “God! These people stink! I hate how Africans smell!” I was in a paralyzed shock and did not say anything.
To this day I regret not slapping the teeth off that girl. Haha, yes my violent black tendencies must be at play here! LOL.
I don’t get why white people come to Africa if they hate black people so much. Africa is 80% black. What’s the deal with that?
LikeLike
Most white people did not realize I was black at first, they thought I was Hispanic or Italian. If they made a racist comment about us, I would quickly interject with a L”We don’t appreciate being talked about like that, or something to that effect.” I guess I enjoyed the shock value, but it wasn’t on my own face value, as I was “undercover”.
LikeLike
I would have to say that a lot of kids experience racism for the first time with a white teacher (usually a white woman) and the way that they realize it is the teacher will make some off handed comment and it usually goes over the child’s head becase they are so young and they come home and tell their mom and the mom gets mad and says “she said what”? and the mother confronts the teacher.
I am in my early 40’s and I am experiencing racism but like an underline hostility when I go to the doctor and i get bad treatment from the women in the office or when i go to a restaurant and get hostile treatment.
I went to a restaurant last week and felt so much hostility from a waitress that we got up and left. We treated her well, we tipped her and we got attitude from this white girl. When I got home I called her up and her manager. She apologized and said that she did not mean to treat me in any bad way. I spoke to her manager and told her that the girl made me feel unwelcomed and she said that the waitress broke down and started crying.
The racial hostility that we are experiencing now is unusual. It isnt just Southern. It is everywhere. It is in your face. It means that we are experiencing change. This is a natural progression when change is happening. Some of us are going to die. I hope that it is not me, my family, or friends but it is going to be a rough 5 to 8 years if Obama wins the election.
The difference between the blacks and whites who will commit crime in the next few years will be that the blacks who commit crimes (not the average black person) will be the same ol same ol losers who were always criminals. The whites who commit crimes will be white people who feel that whites are losing. The whites who are lawabiding people who get up and work everyday who just snap one day and go off and kill a bnch of black people.
See whites feel like their cup is half empty. Blacks feel like their cup is half full. Blacks are more optimistic. Whites feel bitter, jealous and insecure.
LikeLiked by 1 person
For the first 7 years of my life, I grew up in a predominantly “Black” neighborhood in Detroit. We eventually moved to a predominantly “White” neighborhood on the other side of the city because we outgrew our home and so my Dad could be closer to his job. The first thing I noticed while attending my new school was how the majority of the Black students were bused in. Being one of the few Black kids who lived in the area, there were many times walking home alone I felt uneasy and scared. I also experienced times when teachers who belittled Black children but praise White children for doing the same things.
One day, my parents got into an argument with our White next door neighbors about how they were disrespecting our home by “driving” over our grass and putting their trash cans in front of our home. During this incident, they called the police and lied that we threaten them with a gun. The Detroit Police raided our home and had everyone handcuffed and face down on the ground. After searching the house without finding anything, the lead cop said, “We hate when you niggers move into our neighborhoods and become a nuisance. You need to respect us for all we’ve given you. The next time we have to come out, we are going to beat you black asses and take your nigger asses to jail.” I was 8 at the time – 1977.
For the next few months, my family was harrased by the police until a lawyer was hired to file a legal complaint because filing complaints “the regular way” was never addressed.
One year later, the White family next door moved.
As I got older and received my driver’s license, I experienced the driving while Black phenomenon dismissed by many Whites. I was pulled over everyday for a week because the local neighborhood cop believed my family was up to no good and were drug dealers because we had decent vehicles and dressed decently. It never occured to this cop, and his White neighbors who re-enforced his beliefs that everyone in my family at the time worked except my younger brother who was 11 at the time. My Mother at the Post Office, my Dad worked at a factory and is a WWII vet, and I worked a high school co-op program at General Motors.
I graduated high school in the upper 10% of my class. I wasn’t the sharpest pencil in the box but I felt I could hold my own. I went to Kentucky State University and instanly noticed how hard college was for me. This isn’t anything new or even racial but what was surprising was that after my first semester, I was put on academic probation. What was extremely interesting for me was as I looked around I found that 90% of the students from Michigan were on academic probation. Student who were valedictorians and saledictorians from Michigan were also on that list. The students came from Detroit, Pontiac, and Flint – predomintely Black cities. Fortunately, I was able to adjust and do much better the following semester but many did not.
Here I was, at a HBCU struggling academically for the first time in my life and not really understanding why. My parents reinforced education and made sure I kept a decent grade point average and worked hard at everything I did. A hard earned C was far more appreciated in my home than an easy A. 12 years of public education and I found that I did not learn a damn thing. I was unprepared to compete with my counterparts even though I though I was just as good. This was a hard lesson for me that our education systems in this country are horrible and getting worse. Do I feel this is racial – yes and no.
Yes, because we live in a country where the same resources are not put into the cities as they are in the suburbs – at least in Michigan. The state took over Detroit Public Schools and not only have scores gone down, the system is $200 million in debt compared to $1 billion in the positive before they took over. The children are the only ones who suffer in this environment.
No, because many of us still hold Jay-Z, Beyonce, and Michael Jordan as the pinnacle of success instead of individuals like Kenneth Chenault, Alwin Lewis, or Renetta McCann. We even forget to give individuals like Colin Powell and Condoleezza Rice credit for reaching levels of success. Neither could have obtained that level of success being mediocre.
Dr. John Henrik Clarke said it best, “Powerful people cannot afford to educate the people that they oppress because once you are truly educated, you will not ask for power. You will take it!”
But I guess that’s what it is about. Being Black, you have to be exceptional to reach the levels of unabridge success unlike a former President who had a C average.
LikeLike
Abagond,
Can we talk about other experiences of racism besides the first time? I’m just wondering.
LikeLike
@ Brothawolf
You can talk about other EARLY experiences. I want to keep this somewhat focused.
LikeLike
Wha–? Only one experience? But the most glaring examples are all worthy of their own mention…Okay, I’ll try to limit them. Here goes:
* Earliest instance I can remember occurred in 1966 or 67, when I was very, very young — I couldn’t have been more than 2 or 3. Coretta Scott King was scheduled to speak in our town. I don’t remember much about the occasion or the event, but I do remember it was one of the few times when my entire family — mom, dad, brother, both sets of grandparents, all my aunts, uncles, and cousins local to the area, plus our extended family of close friends — gathered to see her. Again, I don’t remember anything about the event, but what stood out to me was this huge mass of family congregating at the same time and place, which I’d never, ever seen before. At that age, I could only associate specific people with specific locations via small, intimate events such as visiting, birthday parties, holiday gatherings, or Sunday School. So, seeing them all together, I was like “wow, they’re here, too,” in that surprised way most children react when encountering people outside the realm in which they normally associate them. Several threats had been directed at the facility, so we were instructed to leave the building and wait while they swept for bombs and explosives. I remember some of my younger aunts, uncles and cousins — the ones in their late teens or early twenties — getting all radical and having to be calmed down by “the elders,” even though many of them were just as angry. At that point, my parents decided it would be best if we just went home, but I still remember them talking about it for a long time afterward, and how seething with rage some of my relatives were about the incident.
* Fast forward a few years, and I’m about 5 years old. My grandmother takes me to visit some relatives down South. We were driving through Texas en route to Arkansas, and I, being a normal 5-year old, had to “go.” We stopped at one of those mega rest area/truck stops so we could get some gas and I could use the restroom. As my grandmother and I walked toward the ladies room, one of the sales clerks bolted in front of us to block the door, saying “you can’t go in there.” My grandmother just leered at her as I stood there hopping from foot to foot, doing the bathroom dance. Eventually, the manager came over and whisked us out the store like we were a pair of stray cats. I had to pee in a cup along the side of the road because those people refused to let a 5 year old girl use the bathroom. And this was supposedly post-Jim Crow…
* A year or two later, forced busing was enacted to integrate the school system in my community. I remember my dad and a few of the neighborhood fathers riding the school bus with us on that first day of school. My parents knew that my brother and I were to be part of this great experiment, and given the history of “forced” integration in America, they were, naturally, concerned. And for good reason: my father had actually grown up in Little Rock, and knew some of the families of the Little Rock 9, while my mother had become acquainted with Terry Roberts after he moved to Los Angeles, and they were briefly in college together. As our bus approached the school, we noticed two large crowds of white people gathered in front. One crowd was there expressly to start some mess. They had signs and attitudes and were more than ready to taunt and harass a bunch of 6 and 7 year old kids. More than ready, that is, until the big, strong black men disembarked the bus following behind their little children. The grumblings subsided, the signs were lowered, but the hostile whites continued to side-eye us as we walked into the building. The other group of white people assembled there had actually come to support us. They walked shoulder to shoulder with our fathers as we entered the building. They made concerted efforts to introduce themselves and their children to us, and made sure that their children played with us and included us in their activities. Throughout that first couple of weeks, some of the black parents and the supportive white parents continued to monitor our progress at school, to ensure a smooth transition and fair treatment from the other students, as well as the teachers. The racist parents began removing their children from the school almost immediately, with some of them opting for private schools, while others began that great exodus to the surrounding suburbs (many of which still had racial covenants, even though by that time, they were illegal), ushering in the era of “white flight,” which would eventually lead to the systematic decline, dismantling and defunding of my area’s public schools.
Having experienced these incidents at so young an age, helped me understand and process some of the other racial encounters I faced growing up. There was the high school guidance counselor who insisted that I didn’t need AP classes or to take the SAT because surely I wouldn’t be attending college, even though I was in the top percentile of my class, my grades were stellar, and my aptitude test scores were through the roof. There was the college roommate my freshman year, who, before going home every weekend, would secure her desk, dresser, closet and belongings with a padlock and chain. There were the professors who insisted that I couldn’t possibly be as bright or clever as my classwork suggested. There was the co-worker who called me “Sapphire” then tried to pretend he thought it was a compliment and that I was a jewel, rather than the actual connotation. The client whom I was forced to appease, even though he kept talking about a “ni66er in the woodshed.” The vice presidents who stole my ideas, then pointed the finger back at me and forced me to shoulder the blame after the project failed because they didn’t know how to implement it. The ladies who insist on touching my hair as if I’m some interactive exhibit they can play with at the Discovery Center. And the list goes on and on. It forces me to be hyper vigilant and to question everything. It’s extremely exhausting.
LikeLiked by 1 person
@ the world we live in
I just asked a curious question, but it was all Abagond to create this wonderful thread. It is very emotional to read all of this. Honestly, I’m 29 and I debate having kids because I am so afraid that this cruel world will hurt them so bad that I won’t even be able to help them. I am so protective over children and to hear these things break my heart, So young and innocent yet already hated.
Your story reminded me of something my best friend told me about month or so ago. She was a part time teacher’s assistant at a daycare in her hometown. The daycare is private and majority white. In the class where she works there is one black child. She said the child comes to school everyday, dressed beautifully, and in pretty good spirits. She said after working there for about a week, she noticed that the teachers were a lot more stern and spoke more harshly to this little black girl. They would displine her for things the other kids were doing as well. She said that the teacher would always use her as an example and she was always picked last for everything. She said the teacher were also very standoffish towards her and would “loud talk her” (say things bad about her in an exaggerated whisper loud enough for her to hear but directed at someone else). She said when the children would try to approach her, she would intercept them before they would get to her to the point of physically placing their body between her and the child but had no issues with her helping the little black girl. She said that the days she came the little girl would be very excited to see her giving her the feeling that her treatment was worst when she wasn’t there.
My friend is a very quiet, non-confrontational person. Instead of speaking up she quit the job because she did not like how they treated the little girl and herself. She said that when the headmistress (who was white) was around they treated the little girl a lot nicer and even exaggerated like they were putting on a show. She thinks there was an issue where they were confronted before about the treatment of the girl. Sad business.
LikeLike
I went to elementary school in the 60s in a mostly white neighborhood. My first grade teacher had me stand and read “Little Black Sambo” to the class one day. Even if you’re not familiar with this book, I’m sure you can guess the content, especially the illustrations. My mother, who was as dark skinned as I am, was also an elementary school teacher. She went to the school and “educated” my teacher about Af-Am literature. Lol!
But I experienced racism within my own family even before then. My sisters and I spent summers in my cousin’s Black neighborhood. They both have lighter complexions than I. I remember being asked more than once if I felt bad because I was the “black” one.
Thanks for this. I’ve loved reading this thread and having the chance to share.
LikeLike
@ Everyone,
Wow. These stories…
Words cannot express how great it felt to write my experience and not have someone “correct” me on it. But I can’t describe how moved I am, reading everyone’s stories.
LikeLike
My family is Christian from the Middle East so in the tri state area I’m pretty much considered White. Besides stoo-pit “You’re in America speak English” comments, the first time I’ve ever encountered racism was when a Muslim man asked my race and then promptly turned his back to me, thinking I would actually give a crap. Other than that I’ve only gotten benign comments like asking what country I’m from.
The first time I ever encountered Black racism is when a small Black child wanted a White doll, and his grandmother tried to convince him the Black doll was just as good-to which he responded, Grandma, I’m not Black, I’m Brown. That was pretty sad-all Grandma and I could do was stare at each other like “Holy Crap”
Oh, and when my Black friend and I were driveng down South and the kindly sherriff pulled us over and stated that we must be lost, and helpfully pointed to the nearest interstate OUT of town…
LikeLike
First time, I believe it was kindergarten-so 5yrs old. I lived in a pretty diverse neighborhood, yet my family was the only AAs on the block. I remember my group of friends referring to me as the “dirty little white girl”- because I was brown. The sad part of it all, is that I was pretty excited about being included, and took it as a compliment. I know better now.
Another incident that pops to my mind is in 7th grade-the first time I was called “ni66er”, I was called a “ni66er lover” by a popular white kid in our English class, several other students heard him say it. I felt compelled to tell the teacher. When I did she was so shocked, dumb-founded (on the verge of tears) and she called the boy and me to the front. Long story short, we both were sent to the principal’s office. And nothing happened to me persay, but I got a lot of backlash from the class, because they were like he didn’t say that, (like I made the whole thing up). Oh, and the kid came back the next day, saying that his family talked about MLK Jr. And that was the end it. That’s when I knew I needed to start hanging out with people that looked like me. It was almost maddening to be the only AA person afterwhile.
These stories are heart-wrenching, Cleonette (wow, what an experience-thanks for sharing-along with the many others on this thread!)
I have two beautiful boys and a girl on the way this June. I know what it’s like to be the only one, and my husband and I are going to teach them the tools to survive in this racist society. I truly can say being a mother has been such a blessing. If it’s in your heart to be a parent-don’t let racism stop you. Our people have survived for so long and we will continue to do so in spite of racism.
There are good folks out there in all shades of color. We just have to prepare them. I’m a perpetual optimist ( I have to be raising kids today :-)). Abagond-thanks for allowing this safe space of a thread.
LikeLike
I’m biracial (black + white parent) view myself as Black. Spent the early years of my life with a foster parent who was white. This was in the Northeast of the U.S. I can remember going to a hockey game with the daughter of my foster parent. I left the rink where the game was being played to go to the bathroom and I this older kid called me a “Nigger”. He must have been in his 20’s I was under 10. I can remember not being sure what it meant but knew it was bad and that it had something to do with my color. I felt afraid and scared. Not sure how I processed it. Kind of traumatic. That is the first experience with racism that I can remember.
LikeLike
@ Melissa
Well spoken! Thank you!!!
LikeLike
Wow. This thread is powerful.
Abagond, thanks for making a sensitive topic safe for us. It’s nice not having someone tell you your feelings are nonsense.
@ Everyone
Isn’t funny how those experiences shape your perception of yourself, your race and your potential success? If not for on-line studies, I would have never pursued my education. That meant no decent paying job which means no house, car, food, dog, etc…
This racist system is bent set on our failure. I’m glad we’re strong enough to find other outlets for survival.
LikeLiked by 1 person
@ Ace
(Sorry all if this posts twice because of my internet messing up.)
I agree, it is a very liberating experience to be able to say things without fear of being talked down to and having your experiences brushed off, played down or even denied by someone who was never there!
This is probably the first article where I have actually read every single post. Each one brings so many strong emotions bubbling to the surface. A lot of anger, sorrow and pain, but I can’t stop reading because, at the same time, it makes me feel like I at least have people by my side. People who understand and can sympathise. In a predominantly White environment you really do feel like you’re not allowed to talk about it, that it will not be taken seriously and you may even be attacked for mentioning it. It is an extremely isolating and depressing feeling.
@ truthbetold
I think it’s horrible that all of this racism has so much power over us. Even though I had the `positive’ stereotype of being a genius because of East Asian heritage, it worked against me in many ways since I never completely lived up to racist expectations. The more violent and hateful racists also eventually affected my grades in school. I was almost a straight-A student until I could not take it any more. It cost me a lot in terms of education. Sadly, this has had a huge effect on my future and still haunts me today.
LikeLike
@brothawolf
Abagond,
Can we talk about other experiences of racism besides the first time? I’m just wondering.
This is what I have done on here brothawolf. I am sharing as I remember and seem at the moment to be going back to more recent (albeit not immediately recent) times before I regress back to childhood.
One other time has come to mind, probably because I saw the bloke recently.
This boy in my year took EVERY single opportunity to harass me, racially and physically abuse me. In assembly, if I had the misfortune to sit in front of him, I would end up with bruises in my back where he had kicked me before a teacher intervened. Once, he punched me in my stomach being egged on by mates of his. My teacher, a funny woman at the best of times, surprised me by taking this boy to task with such fury. It didnt stop him though.
Years later, I was at a club and a mixed race girl started chatting and was very friendly. It seemed she was new to the area and I guess trying to make friends. She pointed to a group that she was with and instantly, I recognised the individual, lets call him Neil who gave me a merry little wave. I said to her “is that Neil Smith” she replied produdly “yep, thats my old man, do you know him” to which my face showed distaste and I replied “yeah, I know him, he was a racist shit when I knew him.” Her face dropped in dismay and she asked if I was sure to which I replied yes. She walked off to talk to him, it looked quite heated but I didnt see them the rest of the night.
A few years later I was at a pub and I saw him. He and the same girl happened to be talking to a couple I knew. I went to say hi to the couple and he said to me with a smile on his face “do you remember me from school” to which I “yes, you were a f*ckin thug”. The smile dropped and the conversation died.
I realise that people change – maybe he had. I didnt like the fact that he felt he tried to present the past as though we had been friends or even tolerant to each other. Had he have been contrite it might have been different – I dont believe he doesnt remember his behaviour, after a time when he was behaving like this to me he was certainly more than old enough to know better.
LikeLike
@ Iris
My brother-in-law, a Chinese Jamaican Rasta, has poured his heart out to us many times about the evils of expectations. He too was stereotyped as being smarter than Jah. But his accent and dredlocks and mannerisms would cause many racist whites shock and confusion. They can’t “label” him. He intends on moving back to Negril with my sister and their kids. We hope to join them soon.
As for education and the pitfalls of white terror…my love, I can write a book.
I am in the midst of leaving medicine after 15 years. Yes, 15. Half my life.
I intend on working solely from home, with only internet clients. I understand your haunting. We all do. Some scars don’t fully heal.
LikeLike
@Adeen
“Please don’t think I am bitter I am just trying to get the truth out there. Plus I am 16 and Black teens my age think I am weird for looking things up and knowing about history. Wake up, knowing your history is the only thing that will take us forward not backwards. We can’t afford to be ignorant anymore!”
I read about your experience and nothing came across as bitter to me. Also ain’t nothing weird about “looking things up and knowing about history.” I think people that tease or give you a hard time are probably jealous or envious of you.
Although I’m significantly older than you I felt like I had some similar experiences.
I wish you the best.
Good luck
d2
LikeLike
I guess that I’m a bit more lucky than most of the people in this thread.
I grew up surrounded by black people, I attended “gifted” classes (classes that were full of students of *all* races, who were using the opportunity to try to better themselves, something that precluded the idea of wasting valuable study time with petty racism), my biggest boosters were *white* people (something that in retrospect shocks me to this day), and I was undersized until my senior year (I had been skipped forward when I was younger, so I didn’t break the 5’5″ barrier until my senior year of high school. I was literally too small to matter, the overt racists didn’t think of it as sporting, in a manner of thought.)
That being said, here’s my overt racism story.
When I enlisted in the military, my test scores were off the scale (to the point that I was offered 5-figure signing bonuses for certain high-level jobs.) As I passed through the system, it was soon understood that I was someone special (as in, despite the purported privacy statements, *everyone* knew that I was the black guy who earned the perfect scores.) Then, during my tech school training, I became friendly with a white guy in my class. Like me, he had also earned excellent marks in his initial testing cycles, so we were brainiac buddies. Then, unfortunately, I managed to earn a perfect score on a test (when he was still trying to break the 90% barrier.) Suddenly, he stopped talking to me. Then, later in the day, after bring harassed by the older people in our flight, he blurted out, “I don’t get it. It’s *impossible* that Airman MaMu1977 got a perfect score! Look at him, he’s black! Black people aren’t as smart as white people, he must have cheated!”
Now, let me clear up a few things.
1. I didn’t choose a more difficult career path. While challenging, my chosen path was, at most, upper-middle grade.
2. My class was almost 1/3 black. He wasn’t just insulting *me*, he was also insulting the black people who were cross-training into a more difficult career field (a field that was and still is difficult for anyone to even gain admission into as a first shot, never mind gaining admission when its understood that an applicant has a decade or more of experience in an entirely different discipline.)
3. The young man in question, unlike the rest of the white people in my class, was Northern born and raised. Obviously, he was the type of guy who felt himself to be “better” than his non-Northern counterparts.
4. At that moment in time, only one of the black students in that class had a <90 score. Conversely, half of the non-black students didn't break the A-level ing halfway through the training.
So, as the words left his mouth, his assigned study partner left their table. The younger black people stared at him in shock, the older black people stared with rage. Two of the white students and all of the latino and Asian students walked out of the door. But, before our highest-ranking student (a black woman) could open her mouth, one of the white students tapped her on the shoulder and whispered something in her ear. She backed down, then he got up and said this…
"I had to remind TSgt {her last name here} that the class leader is assigned by time in service, not grade. And its a good thing, because I know {her first name here} from back in Saudi Arabia and I know that she won't bite her tongue. But I'll tell you this, Mr. Smarty-Fart Yankee-We don't talk to each other like that, ever. We are all on the same team, we are all fighting the good fight and we all bleed the same damn blood, so if ya got somethin to say about anybody in this class again, you're gonna have to deal with me. And remember, I've been serving for over 18 years and I done been everywhere and I know everybody. I'll get your ass broken so far down that you won't even smell that next stripe you want so badly until I retire and I ain't lookin to retire for at least another 5 years. Now, apologise to the man, and if you want to *prove* that you're better than him, do it with your brain and your pencil and not your fuckin mouth!"
He apologised, I accepted, and we went along our way.
He didn't manage to beat me until our second to last text. Yes, the asshole *did* bring his test paper to my table and said, "I told you that I was smarter than you."
He was, at the end of our training, the third best tester in our class (behind our highest ranking student {the aforementioned black TSgt} and myself.
Our class leader was true to his word. 7 years after our training, the class bigot was still a lower-ranking airman. By that time, I'd become a sergeant.
LikeLike
More “educational” stories….Hmmmmmmm……
LikeLike
…I had to remind T of what?
LikeLike
These stories are really touching. I would add some of my stories, but I always tend to shut negative memories out of my mind. I do know that I’ve had the hair-petting, teacher bullying along with some rude comments over the years (i.e. ignorant questions about my hair, comparisons to my skin tone and feces, or the “pretty for a black girl comment.”)
Our communities needs so much healing. I wish we could all just sit in a circle with a bongo drum and just speak about our issues, and then brainstorm some solutions.
LikeLike
Abagond,
Oh okay. I didn’t want to go off topic by mistake.
LikeLike
I am a Jamaican emigrated to Canada i still remember this incident
during a time where i could not find a job and living in depressing suburban hell. I called this place that make adult movies and sent them my pictures that was looking for adult models. the lady on the phone told me there were some auditions coming up and told me i would be contacted. a few months passed and nothing no phone call or emails. so i contact the place and their phones are disconnected. I sent them an email asking them about the auditions their lady on the phone talked about. the owner replied by email claiming that my accent is thick and he could understand me which is strange because the lady i spoke to on the phone had no problems with my accent.
LikeLike
@Ace and D2
I am thankful for your comments.
Another thing, how come we live in a ”postracial” society when a lot of people can’t get rid of their racism?
I really wish that racism can be addressed as a issue and be stopped. It doesn’t help not talking about it because it really affects minorities like us especially the fact that racial minorities make up 33% of the American population. I wonder why Whites don’t like it when Blacks bring racism up. Then they whine and complain that they, too go through ”racism” when they don’t know what racism is all about. They were never looked down on for the color of their skin. NEVER.
I hope I don’t offend anyone and I am not anti White. I am just anti racism.
LikeLiked by 1 person
When I was about 14 years old… I went to my father’s hometown into the gas station. The cashier refused to give my change in my hand. My father had come in to pay for his gas. I kept asking for the change in my hand and the cashier called the cops. I asked with tears if it was because I was black? She said she had a mixed grandbaby how could she be racist. It was just too much….I also remember through middle school getting suspended for being stuff I didnt do (I was an honors and AP student) and being called Shanay-nay in middle school (I’m far from a stereotype -it is funny because , I’ve always been called an oreo by black folks)
LikeLike
I remember my high school teacher, Mr. Roemer asking me specifically to read this poem called, The Hands of the Blacks out loud.
It was an abomination. Blacks used to walk on their hands and feet, that’s why the palm and soles of their feet were lighter than the rest of their bodies.
I looked into his face and saw his enjoyment.
Perhaps that was the first moment in my (soon to be) adult life that I realized that whites relished our pain. Many more examples would follow throughout high school but that one sticks out as well.
LikeLike
The very first experience I’ve had with white racism was actually online. I had to do a research paper back in middle school on the KKK and the role they had in the Jim crow and civil rights era . Mind you, I lived in an area in NY where I had no exposure to white people( in my personal life). I went to the KKK main website and I remembered feeling horrified. I remembered clicking on a lot links that contained hundreds and thousands of content on why my people were the worst things that ever existed. But this one site( I found through KKK) stood out to me the most. It was what started making me hate white people. I don’t remember the name because I’ve only been to it once and I never planned to go back to it ever again. But there was this one site where there were a lot of pictures of dying children in Africa. Underneath the pictures all you saw were lots of comments from whites making fun of all the dying babies and children. I cruised around for a little then I cried my eyes out. I cried because I just couldn’t believe how inhumane they were( I never saw anything like that before). They were actually making mocking and laughing at the dying babies and children that had nothing to show but bones. This was way before I learned any thing about white imperialism and colonization and the effect it had on that continent, by the way (you can only imagined how I felt when I learned more about those people and what their hatred towards others have caused). Every time I think about that site and the disgusting things I read, I start to cry.
😦
LikeLike
sorry for the typos.
*the main KKK website
* they were actually mocking and laughing…..
LikeLike
@Nana
Yes, seeing some of that stuff is intense especially at a young age. It wasn’t one of the tramatic experiences that I had but when I was ten I looked up the KKK. This was due to a news report on the group running on the tv and me not understanding why my mother’s face scrunched up as she turned off the tv. I asked her and she told me to learn about them for myself.So I got online and saw the “love of one’s White race” info on their site and I thought there was nothing wrong with that. Then I looked at some of the other search results to “Aryan” nation sorts of sites. Pictures of lynching, caricutures depicting Black people as animals, “fanstasy” stories of brutally killing black people and getting away with the crime, and even a comment from a 14 year old asking where to get a gun to kill the n-words at his school. Then I also came across pictures of what the original KKK did to people and stories including a pregnant woman being sliced open and her unborn baby being stomped and set on fire as the mother was eventually lynched. Rape, lynchings, mutiliations, children even being brought to the events to watch the killings. It was shocking to me and that caused me to read up more on Black history and American history.
LikeLike
@Nana
Aw, I had my other experience with White racism on youtube. This White commenter said that i was ugly because my skin looked like poop and my hair looked like public hair. I was upset by that comment for a while but I got over that. He didn’t have the guts to say it in my face.He said Black guys don’t date Black girls because they are ugly.
I was so upset. Experiences like that make me very wary of White people especially in the small, town I live in. The White students in my class don’t socialize with the Black students very muc especially not the White girls.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ve never experienced any overt racism directed at myself, but I have had bigoted remarks said to me and I have witnessed racism directed at other people. I guess this is because I grew up on ethnically diverse military bases. These experiences were all after my parents left the military and we moved off base.
The earliest one was when I was in 7th grade (in 2001) in English class when a boy sitting behind me touched my hair and and told me that I have “white people hair”. WTF? I’m black. I have “black people hair” tyvm. I will say that my hair was straightened at the time, but still, white people don’t have a monopoly on straight hair. I had a crush on the boy too, but after that, not so much.
The first time I witnessed overt racism, it was directed towards my brother. This was around 2006 I think and he and I were hanging out in our front yard and a white boy (around 7 or 8 years old) was walking from the school bus to our across-the-street black neighbors who babysitted him. The neighbor’s daughter opened the door to let the little boy in and my brother said hi to her and she went back inside. Before the little boy followed her, he turned around and yelled at my brother “Hey darkie!” and something else that I can’t remember. Me and my brother were so shocked we didn’t have time to react before he disappeared inside. We’ve seen and talked to the little boy before and the people who babysitted him were black, so we definitely weren’t expecting him to say anything like that. All I can think about is that his family lives close to us and acts all friendly to everyone, but in their own home, they’re saying racists things that their son has picked up on.
The next one is a recent experience but it’s the only other racist experience I have, so I’ll tell it anyway: a couple years ago when me and my cousin were sophomores at the same college, she was having a conversation with another black girl about her hair. She was telling the girl how often she washes her hair when some random guy jumps into the conversation and asks her how we can afford to take so few showers because he apparently couldn’t believe that most black people don’t wash their hair as often as white people. She gave him the WTF?-look and told him that these super cool inventions called showercaps exist in the world. Why was he so interested in her bathing practices? Mind your own damn business.
The only other experiences I’ve had weren’t really racist, but did cause me to give the side-eye. I guess I’m really lucky to not have experienced racism at a young age. I have a diverse family and a military background, so that definitely helps. I’ve lived in the south (VA, KY, and NC) my whole life (except for a short year long stint in HA), so I’m probably an anomaly.
LikeLike
@DeeDee and everybody
Um, I came across this White supremacist family that was raised in the membership of the KKK, the Pendergrafts. They have their cute little son, Andrew talk crap about Black people and all types of crap. He said racemixing is wrong and they said try to ”preserve” the White race. Plus Andrew Pendergraft’s mother, Rachel Pendergraft’s father, Thomas Robb is apart of KKK foolishness. Thomas Robb disapproved of the election of Pres. Obama and called Pres. Obama an alien. That was so rude! It wa sad reading about this family and it made me alarmed,
Plus have you heard fof the evil Nazi singing group, the Prussian Blue? They were a group of beautiful blond twins that sang songs praising Hitler. Their mother, April Gaede taught them to hate Jews, Blacks and minorities and like and praise Adolf Hitler etc and she is a very horrible woman too. Eventually the girls are about 19/20 years old and they supposedly aren’t racists anymore. They smoke weed and listen to Bob Marley. Heck, I listened to Bob Marley when I was little! Haha, they are still racists in their minds although they aren’t racist in their ‘actions”. Their names are Lynx and Lamb Gaede and to this very day, i still can’t stand the Gaede twins or their evil, racist mother, April. I can’t stand racism and although the girls left the racism movement and household that they were raised in, I still don’t want anything to do with them or har about them. I don’t want to hear from them after that.
All this White superiority crap has to stop. Everyone is equal in God’s eyes.
LikeLike
I’m a black American female and I went through the same stuff in class. I live in a nice suburban neighborhood in California and I was asked, ” why do black’s tear up their own neighborhood?” by my white jewish teacher.
Ha! If she asked me that, I would have told her, “We don’t. Our Jewish landlords refuse to use the rent for upkeep. Ask MLK.”
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/African-American–Jewish_relations#Shopkeeper_and_landlord_relationships
I’ve done worse to a disrespectful teacher. . . who was also Jewish.
LikeLike
First off, I want to say that I was profoundly touched by all the comments posted today. Reading them brought tears to my eyes and it was very therapeutic.
I’ve been following this blog for a few months now but it is the first time I decided to comment on it.
I grew up in an upper middle class Montreal suburb with white people.
I can’t recall any specific incident growing up but I definitely remember that something was wrong. It started around the age of 6. Racism was this negative force all around that was working towards damaging my self-esteem in a very subtle way. If that makes any sense.
I remember being very passive whenever somebody would call me the N word or say something very racist to me. I was able to brush it off most of the time. I realized now that this frustration grew inside me and I was just a bomb ready to explode.
I went to high school, college and university with this strange feeling that something was wrong. I was very successful in sports and at school and yet, I wasn’t acknowledged by “society” the way I should have been acknowledged given my level of success. I was outperforming white guys in every aspect of life and they were the ones getting good jobs, nice girlfriends, great recognition, etc. I just didn’t get it. I kept asking myself…is it racism? Nah…racism is almost gone…we have evolved. I would refuse to use that as an excuse. I kept pushing myself harder and harder because I thought the problem was me.
Shortly after I graduated from University, I was physically assaulted by police officers because I was black. From that day forward, I refused to take more abuse. I had done everything a young man was expected to do in a society in order to strive. I had education, never got myself in trouble, worked hard and I was good to anyone who crossed my path.
I packed my stuff and left to Vancouver.
Since I am in Vancouver, I never got pulled over or harassed by the authorities. Don’t get me wrong, Vancouver can be a racist place but the focus is not on black people….it is on other minorities (Asians, Persians, etc). There is only a hand full of black people in Vancouver so we are not threatening over here.
It’s a shame that I have to be away from family in order to live peacefully. I truly see the difference here and feel way better as result.
LikeLike
@Abagond
Thanks for letting his space to express ourselves. Much appreciated.
Do you have any personal stories to share?
LikeLike
@ HD:
Hi, I’m from the central part of Canada and it’s interesting you mentioned Vancouver can be a racist place for Asians and other minorities. I have several relatives and friends who live there and I feel at home whenever I visit Vancouver because I see Asian faces like mine. So far, I have had one racist incidence there. However, the relatives/friends who live there say they’re experienced many incidences of racism. As for me, there was a time I was walking with a friend home after dinner. Some white people in a car quicky drove by us and one guy shouted through the window and said, “God, you motherfucking, dogeating bitches need to leave Vancouver now! You’re stinking up the place!” My reply was a middle finger. lol! Cowards. The lot of them.
LikeLike
*typo…I meant they’ve instead of they’re.
LikeLike
@ HD
I used to think my first experience of white racism was at age eleven when whites started applying the n-word to me. But in thinking about it I can see that it goes back to age five. Whites at that point did not call me names or beat me up, as they would later do, but that was when I started feeling out of place among them. They made me feel like there was something wrong with me. Blacks and even most Asians did not make me feel that way.
LikeLike
@ Adeen,
I’ve seen horrible stuff like that said about black women (and women who resemble black women), and I’ve always said, “Their loss.” Anyone like that isn’t even worthy to stand in your shadow.
@ Abagond,
I think that’s a rough thing to work past. When your little and start to realize your “different” and you start internalizing the idea that there’s something “wrong” with you.
@ HD,
I definitely can identify with your story.
LikeLike
@Abagond.What happened to my comment I posted?
LikeLike
Abagond,
There have been many racial microagressions that I have experienced (and continue to experience in this so-called post-racial era) over my lifetime. One episode stands out particularly as my family has an implicit agreement not to really discuss it (and I have never let anyone outside the family hear about it, excepting a trusted member of the clergy).
It occurred when I was about 12 and my brother was about 10. Our mother had asked us to run to the store to but some milk. We went as we had many times before. When we were almost at the store (which was in a strip mall), a General Lee-type car (“Dukes of Hazzard” fame, with a Confederate flag (the significance of which I learned later)) came down the road. I was walking on the mall’s sidewalk, closest to the road and my brother was beside me toward the mall’s building. Well, the car stopped near to me. A White guy, probably in his early 20s then leaned out of his window, called us “F’ing [N-word],” and spit on us. The “spitter” and the driver (another White guy) drove away; my brother and I were in disbelief. As that nasty spit fell on me, it felt like fire. Many details after that point I have lost. We did absolutely nothing to those guys; my brother and I were on a parental mission only. Even minding our own business, we were assaulted. [The Trayvon Martin case rekindled my memory strongly, though Mr. Martin suffered far, far, far worse than we did.]
I do know that we did go to the store and bought the milk. I also remember having to tell out parents what had happened to us; the whole house was silent that night. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror while washing my face and I was upset and heartbroken. The whole event weighed heavily on me: I threw all the clothes I had on out, even my favorite jacket to try to erase the memory from my mind (it helped a little, but I still remembered), I tried to call the police much later, but without a license plate, there was nothing they could do. The person I called suggested that I call the mall security (nonexistent in those days). I went through the so-called stages of grief many times over this incident.
Despite this terrible incident caused by two White men, I still had (and have) to function in a White-dominated U.S. society; U.S. culture does not tolerate Black males who show anger. When White people made facile arguments in my high school and college (both majority White) that every Black person they had encountered had to suffer their suspicion because of some injustice they suffered at the hand of a particular Black person, I really wanted to say that because of what my brother and I suffered then every White person we encountered should also be made to pay. [Gentle reader, you can imagine how my sentiments would have been received if I had expressed them in response to my fellow students.] The fact that Black people suffer greatly at the hands of White people does not really register with a lot of White people; most White responses most assuredly turn to blame Black people for any of their negative, anti-Black attitudes or behavior.
[I mentioned that my parents were silent after we told them what happened. They were not indifferent to us; rather, they were deeply affected that they could not take our pain from us. My Dad to this day does not speak about that subject, not even in passing. Can’t say I blame him.]
Thank you, Abagond, for the opportunity to write this comment. I actually wrote it at a coffee shop: while writing, all of my emotions from that day came flooding back.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Asian who grew up in the south. My earliest remembrance was this one kid who called me an illegal immigrant in class. The teacher hushed him up real quick and nothing was ever discussed about it again. Now I live in the Midwest and it isn’t much better. My brother refuses to go to steak and shake for example because he was denied service there. The insidious nature of racism today means he could’ve been denied service based on his skin color, or the night shift was just so stoned that they forgot about him. It’s the constant questioning that I find to be most stressful.
LikeLike
@ jw
Your comment was off topic. Please read the title.
LikeLike
You know what’s funny? (Not ha-ha funny.) I used to think like Randy even after my racism incident in Chicago. I thought that hard work would prevail and that racism was not a big deal. Man, was I wrong. Dead wrong. I was naive and stupid back then. I was blinded by the false image of America that I was taught during class since as far back as the first day I was introduced to history at school. In a way that was my first experience of being taught white history and it had a huge effect on me then.
My only regret was that I didn’t know then what I know now.
Leigh,
I used to talk to someone online from Vancouver, a young, beautiful Asian woman. She told me about this one incident where a white woman screamed at her mother for taking a parking space she wanted at a department store. She told me the white woman screamed “This is our land!” ‘Our’ implying whites of course. Her mother was upset after that, and as such, this woman was upset.
I don’t know if it was her first experience with racism, but I could tell that it was painful for both her and her mom.
LikeLike
I’ve been reading all the comments for a few days now and though I almost never comment on websites and I’ve been moved to do so now. I’m a 1.5 generation immigrant and lived most of my life up until middle school in an rather insular Caribbean community. I had many different people of color friends but it wasn’t until I got accepted into a very prestigious New England boarding high school that I fully realized what racism was.
This school like I said is very highly ranked and many very rich people send their students there (I’m simply middle class). It was, and still is to some extent, a main feeder school into Ivies. This place was horrible especially because I had to deal with all of these new situations surrounded by racism, sexism and classism without any adults of color around to guide me. I lived more than 500 miles away from my parents and could only visit them during major breaks. Before I came to that school I was a straight A student (how I got in to begin with) and was very perky and motivated.
The very first experience was after the first couple days after school had started. My Humanities teacher had prepared a group assignment, probably so that we would have an easier time getting to know each other outside of the classroom. My group included a Latina, and two white boys, and we met at the library to talk about the project. We all shared pleasantries and said where we came from, and the Latina said she came from X, which excited me because it meant she lived only 30 minutes away from me in the same city. While we were talking about our neighborhoods and experiences, one of the white boys seemed to grow annoyed at our amiable conversation. Why else would he feel to say “X? You guys live there? I heard there are shootings there like every day and tons of criminals.” He then proceeded to look at us in a sort of evaluating way. “How could you possibly live *there*?” Looking back, he was probably disgusted to know we went to the same school as him and yet both of us lived in those neighborhoods and not like say, Nantucket.
I wasn’t someone who got annoyed easily, and actually I had already met quite a few ignorant people in my life, and at that point my philosophy was something like, “It’s okay if people are ignorant, but they should know better when they’re taught. Otherwise, then it becomes a problem.” So I patiently explain that yes, truthfully, there were a few bad areas in X, but for the most part, even in those areas there are very many good people who just try to live their lives to the fullest. I personally didn’t live in one of those areas, and lived more in a suburb, but I had a friend who did and she was the most wonderful person I had ever met. The Latina agreed and we both explained that we’d never even heard a gunshot before (as far as we know).
Well, I soon realized this rational explanation was futile because then they pretty much ignored everything and got a sort of sadistic look that I’ll never forget and proceeded to taunt us for living there and making up things about X and the things they supposedly heard about it and the people there. The Latina got very overwhelmed and started to cry and ran off. Honestly, I was too shocked by the course of events and got pissed at them and walked off but honestly, they seemed happy that we both left. : /
Over the course of those 4 years I put up with a lot of shit, particularly the death threat letters that all the black kids on campus got in our mailboxes in my 10th grade year. Quite a few black kids went back home because they were afraid they were going to get shot (all the letters had a personal picture of ourselves with a crosshair over our faces) meaning it was an inside job. I ended up staying but as stressful as the threats were, that wasn’t what made me the most upset. Instead, it was the reaction of the white students around me, fearing for their own behinds as if there wasn’t some obvious connection behind who had gotten letters and who hadn’t (I *did* not see this same type of self-centeredness from the international and poc students). I heard so much bullshit from kids around me about it and honestly, that was the time I started to close myself off from most people because I was afraid of seeing these white faces everyday, every-night without end, without family, without allies. I became depressed and lonely. White teachers didn’t understand why my grades were getting worse and when they sent me to the guidance counselor, she basically said all the racist things I were dealing with were all a figment of my imagination. I honestly feel like during that time I started to become a bit insane because every-time something happened I would question if it was all in my head.
Now that I’m in college, I look in the mirror daily and feel that I’ve become a husk of my former self. My self-confidence is shot. It’s strange being both completely cognitive of why I feel this way, and knowing it’s not my fault and yet feeling like I’ve been weak for not being able to hold myself up better and get good grades like I used to. Going to this predominantly white school now, I still feel vaguely afraid of my surroundings and have very few friends….
LikeLike
@ D.
Thank you so much for that enlightening comment and a link to that wikipage. I remember my father would sit me down and tell me this sort of thing but I never really listened until that moment.
This was back when I was in high-school is a kids who didn’t know how to take on such comments. I would just close my eyes and hope that would go away (which never helped). Yes the relations, I must have admit between the two groups have been strained and very rigid.
—————————————
I remember the “Accept Diversity” Campaigns played in school and all the eyes falling on the students of other races during the film (there were 2 kids of “different” every 6 classes including me). The “Be nice and tolerate them because they are “different” sort of propaganda playing in the background. On the surface it seems sweet but the underlying message is “From which point of view am I different. Different to whom? Absolutes like “they are different” makes someone the norm which has to mean the others are completely taboo. And tolerate , what do you mean tolerate, are you implying that I am bad and there is something wrong with me to begin with?
A trend that I am noticing is that many of these experiences, happen by teachers and students in school. Very interesting indeed.
——————————————————-
Sorry for the typos, I was free-writing.
LikeLike
@ Lilianna,
It reminds me of how people treat a bad odor but can’t find the source and have to live with it. I can’t stand that “tolerate” word, as if (due to your skin) your somehow invading their very space and they must learn to live with you.
Worse it often seems like they’re saying, “Well I know your black, and I know that’s bad. But due to the goodness of my great white heart, I’m going to overlook that and “tolerate” your existence!”
@ Panko,
I understand how that can kill your self-worth and confidence. It’s such an ugly thing.
@ Brothawolf,
You know, I’ve realized it’s never about achievement. It’s about who you are, what you look like, and where your from. You could cure cancer and, because you’re black, someone will try to find a reason to hate you and take it from you. It’s such a terrible cycle.
LikeLike
Panko, I feel you. Our stories are very similar.
LikeLike
@ Panko, Ace, Brothawolf
If not for my strong family ties and traveling AWAY from the united states, I don’t know where I’d be today. I shudder to admit, probably jail for assault or perhaps drugs, ( I used to know this girl…) or maybe just a lost soul.
I have my Lakota stubbornness, which can be good and bad. The more I resisted them the harder they tried to hurt me. As if they couldn’t help themselves.
LikeLike
@ SW6
In fact, I have a great circle of friends. They are mostly from all different background. Whenever I see another black folk, we say hi even if we don’t know each other. It makes it very easy to befriend black people you don’t know in Vancouver. I miss having more black faces around me but it doesn’t really matter because I have lots of black friends and other friends who understand the dynamic of racism.
That was the trade off in my case…
Stay where I was and eventually explode/implode;
Or move somewhere else and get some piece of mind.
It wasn’t easy but it had to be done in my case.
LikeLike
@ leigh204
Thanks for your comments
@ Abagond
Thankd for sharing your story
@ Panko
Thanks for your contribution to this blog. I totally feel your story. Hang in there and don’t give up. We need people like you if we ever want to make it in this world.
*I apologize for the typos and the mistakes….I don’t take time to edit when I’m writing.*
LikeLike
@Panko
Panko, believe me I understand what you are going through because it is similar to some things that I have went through. Something that helped me in college (I’m graduating this week …YAY :D) is being involved in many student organizations, It is a nice way to make friends and do something you love. It helps to make you no longer feel alone. If you still have time look up your school’s student organiztions and see if you can join any in the future. you don’t have to be/feel alone and you don’t deserve to feel like an outsider at your own school. You can make it.
LikeLike
Abagond:
I was four years old at the time. My parents lived in a two-bedroom apartment in a majority white neighborhood at the time. I was walking back home from a friend’s home, and came upon two whitemen who yelled ni**er at me from the other side of the street for the hell of it. It didn’t scar my psyche, but, it made me aware of race and racism at an early age. Growing up, i was not typical of most young black males. I actually watched local news, read newspapers, watched political commentary shows, etc. Being angry about racism is a waste of time, understanding and decoding it is what we as black people need to focus on. Emotion is not gonna make us victorious, a level head rooted in truth…Always!
Tyrone
Not One To Tolerate Foolishness From Others
LikeLike
@ Panko,
Like you said eventhough your grades now don’t reflect what you used to get, that doesn’t mean you are dumb. What it means is that your environment hasn’t nurtured the talent you had to begin with and now you have to figure stuff out yourself. So don’t be to hard on yourself. The fact that you are finding it hard to overcome your current predicament only means you are human. Also remember, life is about facing challenges, no matter where you are(rich, poor, clever, succeeding, struggling etc), you’ll always have predicaments, it just so happens that these are the ones facing you now.
In terms of getting your grades back up, analyse where you are going wrong now and come up with a simple easy to follow action plan on how you can improve. I remember when I was back at college asking people that I knew who had decent grades how they revised and this gave me ideas on how I could improve my method… One step at a time and in time you’ll pull through and you’ll know more than you did before.
LikeLike
I deleted all of Defender’s comments and banned him. I deleted all the replies to him.
LikeLike
How sad and touching, what we underwent and are still undergoing just for the colour of our skin.
@ Peanut
“my first experience with institutional racism would have happened when i was very young. it started as early as only seeing white people portrayed positively on television, while the blacks were portrayed negatively…………………………………………………………………………………….”.
They’re very good at that, they commence by feeding us with all those atrocious, heinous and negativity of all kind about us right from our tender and naive stage of life, and they use every means possible: television, books you name it! And unfortunately, sometimes we end up believing it.
Take for instance, a child that has been constantly told right from the beginning that he has a low IQ due to his race; a child that was told that it’s not his fault, but an issue of genetic.
If maybe in the beginning that child does bad at school (which is legitimate)
and the IQ bullshit is brought up over and over again, the child might end up believing it, consistently underachieve and encumber himself/herself.
I could remember a story i recently heard about a little girl, that during a geography lesson, the teacher asked for someone to discuss a subject and the little girl raised up her hand to discuss it but her teacher told her not to bother herself because she was only waisting her time in school, and that she was never going to do well as her classmates, because she is black. The girl went home crying and her mom went to the school, reported the issue to the headmaster; fortunately action was taken.
But later, rumour had it that the reason for her misbehaviour towards that little black girl was because she was seriously depressed because she was divorcing from her husband.
After hearing that sad story, i asked myself; what has that little girl got to do with her teacher getting divorced from her husband?
Amongst all the pupils in her classroom, why did she choose to vent her fustration on that little black girl?
Did she feel better after doing that?
Was it really necessary?
May God deliver her!
@Nana
“Aw, I had my other experience with White racism on youtube. This White commenter said that i was ugly because my skin looked like poop and my hair looked like public hair. I was upset by that comment for a while but I got over that. He didn’t have the guts to say it in my face.He said Black guys don’t date Black girls because they are ugly.
I was so upset. Experiences like that make me very wary of White people especially in the small, town I live in. The White students in my class don’t socialize with the Black students very muc especially not the White girls.
Forgive me Abagond for digressing from this energising topic.
But i would like to recount what i witnessed last summer regarding “Black guys don’t date Black girls because they are ugly”.
Last summer, I could remember i was with my fiancè, his collegues and friends at this farm holidays outside England; we were having dinner, and there was a group of people; there where about 13-15 of them, we were sitting very close to them.
There was just one black woman among them. Oh my gosh, this lady was fabulous, extremely classy from her head to toe! Everyone in there was just admiring her. And there were about 7 white ladies, 1 black male and the rest were white males. At first i thought the two blacks were couples but i later realised that they weren’t.
I was the only one among my group who understands our host country’s language very well, and i couldn’t help but pay attention to everything the other group was saying because i was sitting very close to them.
The black lady got into conversation with the rest about politics, current affairs and economics; you could notice from the way she spoke that she was a foreigner; and she kept saying: “in my country, before coming to this country, etc, but she was well documented about that country. You could also tell that she was very intelligent as well.
The rest of the white ladies didn’t give much contribution to the discussions.
And obviously she (the black lady) was in the centre of attention, she was
elegantly wooed by all the men ( except from the black guy) whom i later discovered was dating one of the white women.
Then they started talking about women; and all of a sudden one of the white women said ” why is it that black men don’t date black women?” And she turned to the black guy and asked him:” Have you ever dated a black lady?”
And the coward said ” No, because i love skinny women, and I’m attracted to them.
And one of the white guy asked him: ” And would you date K (the black lady)”
And he replied:” Well, uummm yes, maybe if i hadn’t met T (his white girlfriend)
K is skinny, stunning, classy and she’s definitely my kind but she’s too tall for my taste”.
And when he was reminded that his girlfriend was as tall as K, he said ummm, i didn’t notice that (It was obvious that K & T were of the same height)!
And while he was trying to digress, a guy asked K about her opinion on why black guys don’t date bw.
And K said: “Well the answer is very simple, it is because we are not patronised, given careful consideration by society; society does not use us to lure and entice men of all races. Favouritism is not shown on us, so as you can see, the game is unfair and partial.
She went on and said:” If you want a beautiful cloth, and you go into a shop, you’re surly going to purchase the cloth that is being displayed and not the one that is hidden”. And everyone nodded and agreed to what she said.
All of a sudden, one of the white ladies jokingly said ” but i see black men running after white women like dogs”, and K said “no dear things are the other way round; don’t be ashamed to admit it, white women are the ones running after black men like dogs in heat.
It is a known fact that you’ve always preferred our men over yours, you’re ashamed and abashed to admit it, you’re only trying to twist the truth, so you can feel comfortable about it. That is mere cowardice!
Society entices men of all races with white women. And we all know that men are very vulnerable. It would have happened the other way round if black women were used to intice men of other races.
I wanted to intervene but i hesitate because i didn’t want to be loutish.
While all this was going on, the black guy remained silent.
Honestly, I was ashamed of him.
And a white guy said: ” Personally, i like beautiful women of all races and i think white, black, yellow, red are all the same, it’s just a matter of melanin!
Unfortunately, i didn’t listen to the whole conversation, we left the place before them. But before leaving, i wanted to go and give the black lady a huge kiss on her cheek even though i didn’t know her.
LikeLike
Truthbetold and anyone else,
Maybe I need to travel around the world or something to get away from here for a while. lol But seriously, there are many times where that “black shame” thing kicks in from anywhere at anytime. I try not to let it get me down, but most of the time it’s too painful. The funny thing is I never felt this way before 2006.
I remember looking at news websites. In the crime section, almost all of them had mugshots of black men. That’s when it struck me like lightening. A sharp pain hit me in my heart. I felt an uneasiness I never felt before. It was like a part of me died. Maybe it was my naivety that parished.
Honestly speaking, there are times where I just want to leave everything. There are moments like today where I just want to throw in the towel of life, but I know I can’t. I have to continue. I have to keep going.
I’m sorry to bring that up, but when I slowly but surely learned more about racism, the more darker life seemed. Still, I have no regrets learning about racism. None.
LikeLike
@brothawolf
Honestly speaking, there are times where I just want to leave everything. There are moments like today where I just want to throw in the towel of life, but I know I can’t. I have to continue. I have to keep going.
I for one can say that reading your intelligent, thoughtful, well informed commentary is such a positive and brilliant thing to behold on a blog like this that gets tainted daily by the so called ‘race realists’. Yes, it can be and is depressing but, what you must also take solace in is that responses like yours are a constant reminder that PoC can and will prevail regardless.
Honestly speaking, there are times where I just want to leave everything. There are moments like today where I just want to throw in the towel of life, but I know I can’t. I have to continue. I have to keep going.
I am a firm believer in what doesnt break you makes you stronger and, perhaps an old cliche better the devil you know.
You may not realise it from the posts I have put on here, which are quite mild in terms of other experiences. Unfortunately I am unsurprised by what some of the cyberscum put on here – at times, (far too many) i’ve lived it!
LikeLike
@ brothawolf
“lol But seriously, there are many times where that “black shame”.
You’re an individual. You’re not the one doing those shameful things.
Just be yourself, prove the contrary to any racist ignorant you come across in life, and he/she will(might) be ashamed and disappointed.
And remember; most times those racists are sadder than you, they try to use racism as a defence, they try to spifflicate and irritate you, but don’t give them that satisfaction.
LikeLike
Demerera and Bell,
Thanks. I feel what you’re saying, and I know most of us are not what they (white people) want us to be, and I know there are reasons behind it. But I don’t understand why I feel this way. I shouldn’t have to feel shame for what another black person did. It makes no sense. I wrote about it a few times in my old blog which is now in my current blog.
What’s funny is that I hope for and even find examples of white dysfunction and white crime to help ease my pain. That’s why I like White Watch.
It’s pathetic. I know. Still, I try to fight this irrational feeling no matter what. I try not to let it get to me.
I dunno…
I never give white people the satisfaction. I struggle and work hard not to wherever I go. I shouldn’t have to seeing as how no matter what, I’m just another you-know-what to most of them, especially down here in South Carolina. They have the privilege of being seen as good no matter what. That pisses me off.
That first moment of racism in Chicago was a reminder that I ignored for a long time. It told me that nothing’s changed, but I was too dumb to see it. It took me more than a decade since then to wake me up.
LikeLike
I am 52 and have had some experiences. My 26 year old daughter had a recent experience with a hispanic persson. We are black. This white person was locked outside his car, and my daughter and this hispanic person was trying to help the white person get the door open, but they couldn’t do it. The white person said: “dont you people know how to break into cars???” All I can say is: the white person should be glad I was not there. Another time, this white cop pulled my daughter over in her car. He asked her what she was doing in “his” neighborhood. He grabbed her lisence from her, then threw it back in her face when he was done harrassing her. He refused to give his name, of course. He accused her of not having insurance, which she did.
LikeLike
Abagond – please feel free to delete this if you deem it appropriate..
Today while listening to music via headphones on my portable player, an old vintage Temptations’ song came up on my playlist. The timing was unique in that it immediately reminded me of this site, thread and the posts from the people here who opened their souls to share some of the pain we have lived and dealt with as a mistreated people. The lyrics, music, voices/harmony and *soul* really sends a strong, timeless and *encouraging* message ..
This song is dedicated to our collective struggle with racism – and never permitting anyone or anything stop us from moving forward!
__________
Message From A Blackman – circa 1969/70
Melvin: Yes, my skin is black,
But that’s no reason to hold me back
Eddie: Why don’t you think about it,
Think about it, think about it, think about it,
Think about it…
I have wants and desires,
Just like you
So move on the side
‘Cause I’m comin’ through, oh!
Temptations: No matter how hard you try
You can’t stop me now
Eddie and Temptations: No matter how hard you try
You can’t stop me now, oooh…
Melvin: Yes, your skin is white…
Does that make you right?
Eddie: Why don’t you think about it,
Think about it, think about it, think about it,
Think about it…
This is a message
A message to y’all,
Together we stand,
Divided we fall, oh!
Dennis: Black is a color
Just like white,
Tell me how can a color determine whether
You’re wrong or right,
We all have our faults…
Yes we do
Eddie: So look in your mirror
Temptations: Look in the mirror
Eddie: What do you see?
Temptations: What do you see?
Eddie: Two eyes,
Temptations: Two eyes,
Eddie: A nose, and a mouth just like me, oh!
Eddie: Your eyes are open
But you refuse to see,
The laws of society
Were made for both you and me,
Because of my color,
I struggle to be free
Sticks and stones,
May break my bones
But in the end,
You’re gonna’ see my friend, oh!
Temptations: No matter how hard you try
You can’t stop me now
(chorus repeated several times through music, or “the bridge”)
(after a few minutes, above chorus is repeated
as song nears end, and then…)
Temptations: Say it loud!
No matter how hard you try
You can’t stop me now
Temptations: Say it loud!
No matter how hard you try
You can’t stop me now
Temptations: Say it!
No matter how hard you try
You can’t stop me now
Temptations: Say it loud!
No matter how hard you try
You can’t stop me now
Temptations: Say it loud!
Dennis: I’m black and I’m proud!
Temptations: No matter how hard you try
You can’t stop me now
Temptations: Say it loud!
Dennis: I’m black and I’m proud!
Temptations: No matter how hard you try
You can’t stop me now
LikeLike
@ Bell,
Just wanted to say that I can relate to your story about the guy who kind of shamed himself.
I have been put on that spot. It is a very tough place to be. I can kind of understand why the guy acted the way he did. He was trying really hard to dodge the question. The answer as I came to discover is due to “internalized racism.” It’s not that there is anything wrong with black girls, it is that black girls remind you that you are black. And the thing is you don’t want to be black. It has actually taken me awhile to figure that out. Maybe it is more accurate to say, “You don’t want to be black in those situations” as in when you are surrounded by white people and you really want to fit in. In your example, I think if the man in question admitted that he had dated black women he would distance himself psychologically from his goal which is to be white, however, since he hasn’t tackled this unconscious problem, he decided to deflect by going for body features and acting race-neutral since if he came out and said “I don’t find black girls attractive” he would be admitting he doesn’t find himself attractive. The problem really is with his relationship to himself. That’s what I figured out. In a wider sense you can say the people who you choose to seriously date reflect back to you an element of yourself, i.e. how you see yourself, what you expect of yourself etc.
I also don’t think it is the person’s fault per se, I think environment plays a huge role so here I agree with what K(the black woman) said about the effect of “advertising” or “display” to the mind. I can see the difference in me, I have had the privledge of living both in africa and the west. In the former I find myself attracted to african women since clearly everywhere around you african women are displayed as the most beautiful in the world, then in the west, there is more of an attraction to whiter/lighter skinned women. Now I realize that the environment you are in can highly affect your perception, attractions, likes and dislikes most of which happens sub-consciously without your direct control.
I hope that made sense.
LikeLike
Wilson,
I understand. It’s kinda similar to what I feel when it comes to the news or word-of-mouth.
When it comes to crime and the news, it’s almost certain that you will see a black face and/or a “black-sounding” name somewhere in the report, and most likely, you will see them in violent crime.
To me that’s a subtle way of saying that “black people are violent, more violent, or more likely to commit violence than whites or non-whites.” That presents a monolithic view with society, and black folks are not immune. I know I’m not immune.
In a way that’s like saying that there is something wrong with black people and given how the news reports crime, the blame is solely on black people and nothing else. Therefore, most black people are savages in the eyes of the news.
So, it’s no wonder why these “race realists” use such articles to prove their point. At the same time they do that, I must admit that it’s painful to read even when I avoid their links. It was never the case until one day several years ago when all I saw were mugshots of black men for violent crimes in all crime reports in one website alone.
Forgive me for saying this, but this pain is enough to make me hate my blackness in an instant, and the pain lingers for a long time. I never told this to anyone. No one.
Matari,
Thanks a lot for the lyrics to the song. It helps quite a bit with how I’m feeling right now.
LikeLike
You know this conversation has been so civil and productive you might as well ban the people you promised to ban, man.
LikeLike
SW6,
What race are you?
LikeLike
@ brothawolf
I left you a message on open thread.
LikeLike
I’m just asking.
LikeLike
@ Gorbey
Didn’t Abagond tell you not to come here?
WTF????????????????????????????????????????????????
LikeLike
When we came up from Jamaica (1980s), I did 2 years of high school in NJ (11th & 12th grade) before I left for University in Germany.
I had 2 incidents with white Americans that stayed in my mind, both in 11th grade.
The first: I don’t remember the class but it was the last class of the day. As an assignment, we were asked to bring in pictures to put up on a board showcasing our families and our lives. So everyone brought in mom, dad, siblings, pets, sports, church, etc.
I brought in a few pictures of my family back in Jamaica: at the beach, on the farm, at school.
I remember looking at other peoples pictures and a group of white girls were standing next to me looking at my families pictures, and one of them (I’ll call her M) started to laugh.
M turned to me and asked,”Whose that man in the picture?”
I replied,” my father, why?”
M says,” He looks weird, like a monkey. You all look like jungle bunnies standing in the trees”
I’m not sure what happened because I saw red. It was reported back to me by several classmates that I had grabbed her by the hair and punched her in the face multiply times before the teacher pulled me off her.
Both M and I went to the principles office and our parents were called. M’s parents threatened to sue and my mother threatened to sue. We both got suspended for 1 day and M didn’t look my direction for the rest of the year.
the second:
World History class. We had just finished covering Ireland and the famines and mass immigration to US. For whatever reason, the teacher decided to asked several white students what their ethnic backgrounds were.
Standard answers,”I’m German, French, Scottish, Welsh, Irish on my moms side” …dad is “English, 1/16th native american, blah, blah”
By the third row, I noticed that she skipped over all the students of colour. I started looking around at the other black and non-white students and we all kind of had the same expression, “Wow, did she just skip over us”.
Finally, a kid named Orville (one of the few other Jamaicans in the school) raised his hand and said,”Excuse me, miss”..She says,” yes, did you need something”
Orville said,”yes, miss. I noticed that you skipped over all us students of colour and I am wondering why?”
The teacher started to laugh, then replied,”Of course I did because all your ancestors are from Africa and we were discussing Europe.” (kiss me backside, did she really just say that, Orville is obviously mixed race)
Orville said, “ma’am, you are very misinformed. You were asking the white youths about countries, and not Continents, of their forefathers;
and for your information, I am Jamaican and my ancestors came from Africa, India, China, and Europe, so I believe you are being pre-ju-diced towards us non-white students”
(he exaggerated the word pre-ju-dice so that she got the point)
Oh boy, mouths flew open and you could hear a pin drop. She rolled her eyes, then said, “OK, I am sorry. By the show of hands, how many of you non-white students have white or other races in your family?”
All of the students but 3, raised their hands. So she apologized, then went around the room asking the black, latino, and mixed raced students about our backgrounds.
I never forgot that woman. B’tch didn’t even try to get to know us…but she already pre-determined who and what we were because of the tan and brown of our skin.
LikeLike
Gorbachev is banned for commenting on the First Experience thread. Yet another white commenter who thinks he is above my rules.
LikeLike
LOL
Like my grandmother says, “What? You think fat meat ain’t greasy?”
Their sense of entitlement leads them to disrespect even the most basic of instructions. But look at the globe. They have a tendency to go where they are not invited/wanted.
Say hello to the rest of the banned trolls under the bridge. And don’t let the screen door hitcha where the good Lord splitcha! 😛
I know that the rest of them are DYING because they can’t comment on this thread. The fact they they feel compelled to is fascinating. They hate us….yet just can’t seem to stay away. I bet Bliff is STILL reading the comments!lol
LikeLike
To be honest, as a young child, I lived in two different worlds, as my parents were divorced and I would spend the summers in Canada with my father, and the rest of the year in New Mexico with my mother. In the little town in New Mexico where my mother and me lived most of the year, Mexican-Americans were the majority, and I never faced really any racism there being a caramel colored chicano/native American, I saw racism directed by my peers at other minorities, but never experienced it directly. Canada on the other hand was a totally different experience, as because of my native appearance, and association with my Metis/Cree father, I was seen as Aboriginal rather than Mexican, and treated like complete shit by just about everyone else who wasn’t native. My first experience of racism that I was able to comprehend was when I was 10, and I was sent to the grocery store to pick up some milk, and three older white boys approached me and one said “hey chuggalug, the liquor store’s across the street” and walked away laughing. At the time I was more shocked than anything, I wasn’t used to that kind of treatment, I was used to being the majority, but after several more summers of being called a chug, a squaw, and a host of other hurtful slurs, as well as white ladies clutching their purses when I passed, or telling their kids to stay away from me and other natives at the beach, I became well aware of what it meant to be shunned because of my color. At first this made me bitter and angry, but even with my limited summer exposure, I started to see myself differently, believed in myself less. It wasnt long before I didn’t want visit my father anymore, as I always came away from my summer visits with a pit in my stomach, and a slump in my shoulders.
LikeLike
@Abagond.i was only responding to what Melissa Jenkins wrote.
LikeLike
@ brothawolf,
That’s exactly it, the media and society “displays” us very very negatively. Not only does it affect how society see’s us, it affects how we see ourselves and how we see the opposite gender of our own race. All this happens in the mind without even your conscious control, you find yourself feeling things and you wonder, why? I think it’s important to get ahead of the curve and take control of your perception because if you don’t, society/media will happily do it for you and in our case, it’ll drive us to hate ourselves.
Anyways, I hope this isn’t that far off-topic.
LikeLike
@Linda
I remember a similar experience in middle school. A sub introduced European Immigration in history class, and asked the class to share their family’s immigrant history. I sat in the back, shaking with rage: not all of our families enjoyed a pleasant boat ride over here.
LikeLike
Wilson
” The answer as I came to discover is due to “internalized racism.” It’s not that there is anything wrong with black girls, it is that black girls remind you that you are black. And the thing is you don’t want to be black. It has actually taken me awhile to figure that out. Maybe it is more accurate to say, “You don’t want to be black in those situations” as in when you are surrounded by white people and you really want to fit in………..”
That is exactly what they want, whenever they see/attain the expected result for all what they strive for on a daily basis, 24/7; which is to make us feel ashamed of ourselves and our own race, even to the point of feeling hatred for ourselves and our own race. They become extremely happy and proud; and say:” he/she wants to be like us but he/she is never going to be like us”, because that can never happen!
But whenever they see a proud black person; i don’t mean someone who go around saying : “I’m black and I’m proud”, but someone who speaks through his deeds.
Someone who speaks through his deeds: Not necessarily dating only black women/men ( because i think everyone should befriend, love or marry the person they love and whom they are happy staying with), my point is, someone who knows and do the right thing, knowing that “Black” isn’t = evil, crime, ugliness, awkward, disgrace etc, as we’ve been made to believe sub-consciously right from our childhood.
When you are around them (not all of them, though) and you show your personality and pride as an individual. Sometimes they will respect and value you; In an overt or covert manner. Trust me on that!
In my life I’ve come across so many racist people, both overt and covert.
And nothing makes me happier and proud deep inside whenever i hear these words directly or indirectly being said about black people that i and those racist people know: ” We are very wrong whenever we say; they are all so and so, this and that.
A,B,C,D,E,F……………. attest that people are individuals, be it a black, white, yellow, red, green person.
I have heard it on many occasions and i know some (black) people who have heard it too. I’ve heard it even from the people that i least expect to hear it from.
And i must confess, i feel very happy deep down inside maybe I’m a little bit crazy.
“I also don’t think it is the person’s fault per se, I think environment plays a huge role …………..”
Unfortunately, you are right about that.
I only wish we could start reprimanding from our early stages of life, those evil things they feed our mind with, about ourselves; so that by the time we grow up, we’re well prepared and ready to shun and differ with them, and establish our own identity; and not letting them do it for us.
“I hope that made sense”
Of course it did make sense!
@ brothawolf
Demerera and Bell,
“Thanks. I feel what you’re saying, and I know most of us are not what they (white people) want us to be, and I know there are reasons behind it. But I don’t understand why I feel this way. I shouldn’t have to feel shame for what another black person did. It makes no sense……………….”
Permit me to give you a piece of advice.
In my humble opinion; I think you’re stronger than that. You’re God’s special little creature!
Don’t waist your time thinking about all those negative things (life itself, is already tough and problematic for everyone); instead, feed your mind with positive and pleasant things about black people and life in general and above all, focus on your life! And not on what other blacks do.
@ Matari
Thanks, that was a great and reviving song.
“The timing was unique in that it immediately reminded me of this site, thread and the posts from the people here who opened their souls to share some of the pain we have lived and dealt with as a mistreated people”.
How sweet!
One more time, thanks for your kind thoughts for people (us ) you don’t even know.
LikeLike
I’ve got quite a bit of reading to catch up on.
@ Matari: =)
Not sure if anyone mentioned sexualized racism, but most of my tween and teen years were filled with insecurity (mostly from academic experiences) but also from the ever present gaze of adult white males (I can handle the gaze now-b/c i bring them to their knees when I gaze back, LOL). Statements that seem benign, like, “Wow, [name] is really coming along, look at those long legs” or when a neighbor felt that he had the right to take my jaw in his hand to examine my “nice straight African teeth”, yes , that is what he said, became creepy to me.
Rubbing of my shoulders, bumping into my bottom, compliments about the color and softness of my skin were constant from the mouths of white male adults ( many who were educators) and this did nothing but make me want to hide anything and everything about my physical self that could be deemed attractive. Their gaze made me feel “hottentot” -like, which is so odd, because given all of this, you would think I would have never even considered marrying ‘interracially’. Maybe I sang too much “We are the World” as a kid, ha!
LikeLike
I knew that the colour of my skin was an issue since I was able to watch and understand television. White people everywhere with clear blue, green and gray eyes. I rarely saw a beautiful black person on television and when I did we would hardly take notice. I knew then that I had the ‘wrong skin’ colour.
Fortunately, my father and mother were ,proud to be black people, and tried to keep us on the ‘be black and be conscious’ path. Real white people was hardly seen when I was younger, except on t.v, but skin colour was still an issue. People determined how beautiful, handsome, intelligent or important you were according to the lightness of your skin. I can’t recall a specific incident because the colour of your skin, being an issue, was the way of life. It is extremely unfortunate that racism do take place in ‘education institutions.’
LikeLike
@ the world we live in
I know that white male gaze too well. I can almost see them becoming “bothered” by my flesh.
It’s creepy.
LikeLike
I don’t know if any have experienced ‘the get up and move’. I’ve sat on public transportation, been standing at a public transportation station, bus benches etc., and had nonblack and whites get up and move even if but a few feet away. At first I thought it was a figment, of my ‘paranoid’ imagination, but, nope, they moved lol! What is that about? I don’t need people to stand by me, because most times, I’m in my thinking mode, but, you tend to notice, when this happens a lot. Maybe my perfume is too strong, or, maybe I look menacing or dangerous. I’m flummoxed. I remember sharing a seat with a caucasian woman (older, 70’s+), and there were no more seats; she twisted, and shifted and turned into the aisle for the entire ride. When my stop came, I looked at her and said, do you seriously think I wanted you to sit here, and got up and left.
LikeLike
Wow. This is one of the most important, intense discussions I’ve ever read. I’ve asked my kids and friends to read it. I’ve asked my best friend who’s the head of the Af-Am Studies dept. of a local college to read it and share it with her students. Thanks to all who’ve had the courage and strength to respond. Thanks Abagond for asking that comments come only from those affected. The conversation is much more powerful as a result. Keeping others out must be a full time job! Lol!!
D: You reminded of an early experience my kids had in elementary school. Their school had an “immigration” unit too. Instead of protesting, I rewrote the unit curriculum to be more open-ended and inclusive. The principal and teachers thanked me for my input and not a thing was changed. From that time forward I had my kids write, “Don’t know, we were slaves” as the answer to all of the units written questions.
LikeLike
Abagond, you should have this piece published in a publication like the Huffington Post and far reaching publications. This is is an important piece and should be shared with the world.
LikeLike
To World we live in, Why is it that when non-white men find white women attractive becase of their white skin, it is normal and when white men find asian or black women attractive because of their black or yellow skin, it is a creepy fetish. This is a form of racism from white women to shame white men for their attraction to non-white women. It is a mind game. Looks like yo fell for it.
LikeLike
Abagond, perhaps would you mind sharing your own first experience of white racism?
LikeLike
I have always known! Since the beginning of my time on this earth I was black. In fact, not just black but black and it’s twin ugly, which obviously goes along with having dark skin in America. My belonging to my light skinned mother and sisters was always a point of contention, questioned by strangers. Moreover, I was always an outsider in my own family because of my dark skin. I learned that dark skin was the “other”, an “undesirable” and “unwelcomed” thing-reviled. My life was made horrible! People deem me a worthless thing-teachers, church ppl, track coach- family. No one wanted to invest in someone who had no hope or future. Mind you, these assessments were singularly based on my skin color. I was cheated out of many thing because of the color of my skin. From high school to college, I was robbed of my grades because of my dark skin. The clincher was when I returned home for Operation Desert Storm (the first Persian Gulf War). I moved to Temple, Texas and joined a gym. There was a white lady who was always eyeing me. I thought it was because the military gear I was sporting, but one day, she obviously forgot that there was a big mirror (reality show style) in the room where the cardio class was held. I looked up. I noticed that she was staring at me, lips curled up like she was smelling shit, nose flaired and enlarged, forhead crinkled. It was if I was transformed into the scum of the earth. I folded my arms and eyed that mirror, staring right back at her. Hence, while she was staring at me; I was staring at her. Her realization that she had been silently outed as RACIST HATER she obviously was, startled her upon her when she realized that I could see her and that I was standing there staring at her! My blackness was a personal offense, an afront to her worshipped whitness. A few years later, in Houston, TX, I caught an Indian woman looking at another dark skin black woman in the same way. I have so many stories thes are but a few. Thanks for the platform!
LikeLike
Endora, I have starting raising my fingers to these people. I will put my hand up to my cheek then move the other fingers down and keep the middle one up. I have started to use other tricks. My attitude is not to let them make you into who they are, in other words, hateful. But sometimes it is too much too take. I was vacationing one time in Miami and the maids (cuban) would not clean our room. When we left I taped a $20 bill to the floor as a tip. I mean I taped all four sides. For me it was symbolic.
LikeLike
@ Endora
Darker skin has always been at the bottom of our caste system in every race but for black women especially, it’s a curse.
Wesley Snipes has no trouble being “cool” , smooth and sexy.
Viola Davis…well, she’s Mammy.
Be proud of your chocolate skin, my sister.
You don’t age, EVER… and the risk of cancer is so slim.
Wear your whites, creams, golds and bronzes with pride and watch others gawk with envy at your confidence.
LikeLike
@TBT- Excellent response! @ Endora: Rock on with your bad self!
@ Melissa Jenkins stated:
“Why is it that when non-white men find white women attractive becase of their white skin, it is normal and when white men find asian or black women attractive because of their black or yellow skin, it is a creepy fetish.”
Hmmm….given how quickly I shoot these responses out, it doesn’t surprise me that the meaning and intent of my statement has been misinterpreted. I am a big believer in the lasting power and magnitude of social conditioning, therefore I truly doubt that people are inherently predisposed to be attracted to those who happen to share the same so-called race or ethnicity (people have been getting down w/ each other either willingly or by force for millennia). Sexual desire and sexual response are not equitable between or even within genders, so I won’t really go there. However, crossing personal boundaries, touching a child for sexual pleasure, and speaking in an unseemly manner to a child IS creepy and has nothing to do with normative attraction and everything to do with POWER.
So, straight answer to your question: It is NOT normal for someone to find you attractive based on ONE superficial factor such as your skin. If you meet someone like this—RUN—RUN FAST. As far as black men finding white women attractive simply because of their white skin, well, for centuries that message has been beaten into them or repetitively drilled into them via the media.
You must understand white skin IS social capital thus allowing for all of the
positive cultural schemas associated with “whiteness” (vice versa w/ ‘blackness’…Asians are in the middle of the ‘racial’ hierarchy and are slowly surpassing the Nordic blonde as the Trophy wife—socialization matters!) There is NOTHING more inherently beautiful about white skin,NOTHING- if anything it’s the least desirable (‘health’ is never illustrated w/ wan skin) -this is a recent invention when given the course of human history. Many ancient civilizations worshipped ‘black’ gods and goddesses.
I’m not saying every person who may have a preference for a particular look is fetishizing, but it is detrimental to pretend these people don’t exist. And let’s not be blind to the fact that some disturbed adult males (and women to a lesser degree) can and do take advantage of a child’s insecurities. That’s all I’m sayin’. CREEPY. CREEPY. CREEPY. AND WRONG. YUK. Messed me up for decades =(
I am not a great writer and quickly compose my responses, so if you’d like to ask me more questions, please feel free to do so. I will respond when able. Peace.
LikeLike
@ The world we live in
I adore you as well!
Good analysis.
LikeLike
[south] Asian-american here. I’ve noticed a generational divide in the *level* of white racism I’ve experience, but the common line of questioning that I *always* get, even from younger whites, and is certainly one of my earliest persistent recollections of racism, is something like
white person: where are you from?
me: Texas
white person: where are you REALLY from?
me:
LikeLike
My first encounter with white racism was in the 5th grade, a watered-down foretaste of the far more serious trials I would experience in high school.
As a bit of background, I was a math prodigy—and no, not just a black kid good at math, a prodigy—and won’t risk being called a liar by describing what I’d done since age 2. Raised by loving grandparents, ghetto poor with 3rd grade educations, there was no outlet to nurture my talent, which I felt was atrophying at an alarming rate. So to draw attention to said talent, I did what I was later to discover Gauss himself had done: I showed off. But the result for the white kid from Brunswick, Germany, and the black kid from Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn, were like day and night.
The 5th grade was memorable for a number of reasons, not the least of which was that I had my first male teacher. A middle-age white guy and lifelong teacher, he was one of the most likable teachers then and since: knowledgeable, funny, exceeding the scope of the curriculum, and possessing a genuine affection for his pupils. The ethnic makeup of the class was typical Bed-Stuy, 1960: 24 blacks, 6 Hispanics, 2 white males—one of whom, the first middle-class kid I’d ever met, was a self-anointed genius who I’ll call “Q”—32 in all.
D-Day occurred with our first test on the multiplication of mixed fractions. I did the half-hour test mentally in 3 minutes, and my paper had only the question numbers with the correct answers beside them. But naw, there were no Gaussian accolades for the kid. Instead, the kid is pilloried in front of the class with a lecture on integrity. Wincing away near-tears, the kid vows to show ‘em next week…the best is yet to come.
And come it did. Next Friday, fractions test. Kid deigns to write down the problems as well as question numbers and answers. Surely, if the teacher has any misgivings about my “integrity,” he’ll demand a demonstration. Couldn’t wait. But, nope. Brought to the front of the classroom, I was forced to participate in a bizarre skit:
TEACH: Where’s the work?/ KID: I did the test mentally./ TEACH: You expect me to believe that?/ KID: Yes./ TEACH: You must think I’m pretty stupid./ KID thinks, but doesn’t say, “I didn’t before.” Kid, in fact, says nothing.
There follows a red-faced, screaming, spit-flying tirade mere inches from the kid’s face—it seemed to go on forever. Kid thinks he’s about to be waylaid (and not in a good way, lol), then the revelation:
TEACH: Q can’t do his math mentally. Do you think you’re smarter than Q? Are you smarter than Q! Answer me. Answer me!…
So that’s what this is all about, I thought. If his prized white student couldn’t do it, then… In my innocence, I was astounded.
TEACH: Answer me! Answer me, or you’re going to the principal! Are you smarter than Q!…
In those days, a trip to the principal’s office was as frightening as a suspension is today. Across the room, in his seat in front of the teacher’s desk, Q was smirking. I so wanted to wipe that sardonic smile from his freckled face, even in my fear and shame. Finally, blinded by tears I refused to let fall, I gave the teacher what he wanted: “No,” I said quietly.
But. I. Was. Furious. It was on! Before, I had entertained the idea of offering to take the damned test orally; now, I wanted to see just how long it was going to take this jackass to see pass his prejudice. So-o-o, the tango continued for another month; at times the situations were side-splitting: made me sit across from him (next to Q) while he read the newspaper, then couldn’t figure out how I cheated. Sat me in the back. Exiled me from class participation…thoroughly deadening the class. Accused every boy (except Q) who got a 100 of being an accomplice. Induced me to publicly reveal how I “cheated.” The “confession” had the class laughing so hard that it disturbed the class next door.
Only the principal’s intervention, a specially arranged test, the teacher getting privately chewed out by said principal (which I overheard returning from a bathroom trip) and the teacher’s half-assed apology ended the 6-week tragi-comedy. For the moment. Until…
…our IQ tests. Yep. After the announcement that we’d be tested, the teacher’s reason for favoring Q, his inability to believe a black kid could be so good at math, his unprofessional drill-sergeant rant in my 10-year-old face, it all became clear to all of us. See, he was so ecstatic, I thought he was going to do backflips. He was what we would now call an HBDer.
Roughly a week before the test, he patiently explained to the class just what the test was about, how it measured intelligence, how it calculated mental age, yadda, yadda, blah, blah, blah. Then, just as patiently, he explained how it had been “scientifically” proven that Caucasian Are More Intelligent Than Negroes, the significance of the 15-pt. gap, how a score of 85 did not make us retarded, “just slower than white people,” etc., etc. However, he did magnanimously allow that since we were such a sharp class, most of us might score close to or over 100. “But don’t get discouraged.” Really?
You could hear a pin drop.
We were stunned. (All except Q, who was making sad clown faces at us. A girl beat him up after school.) This is what our beloved teacher thought of us. It was probably true. (The other white kid, a regular guy, let’s call him “P,” looked like he wanted to drop through the floor. I think he retreated to his happy place.) Although it was nearly 3:00 on a Friday, when at last the bell rang, the kids acted like Saturday morning cartoons had been permanently taken off air. Talk about funereal! As I read the freshly murdered hopes and dreams in the faces of my fellow black classmates, I swore that this crap would not stand. If the “experts” believed this destructive nonsense, then the experts were idiots and bigots. Fueled by a first good look at the hideous face of racism, in the schoolyard I gave what I like to call My First Sermon. I don’t remember the particulars, but the gist of which Do any of you believe such errant nonsense? Do you actually believe that whites are smarter? Or that you are really unintelligent? Inferior? That kind of stuff, but in an uncharacteristically loud, soapbox voice, sprinkled with every cuss that came to mind. Yeah, I was pissed. So, we spent the next week in smaller groups at lunch discussing what BS white superiority/black inferiority was; no more revival meetings. On the day of the test we were angry/ready/determined. That he’d offered to give the high scorer a week’s pass on homework—while significantly looking at Q—certainly did not hurt.)
EPILOG: On the IQ test (symbolic reasoning), the class averaged 121; Q did not get the highest score; the class reclaimed its spirit. After that, whatever views the teacher had on racial competence he kept to himself; the class forgave his lapse; Q softened his wooden head and became a real boy, one of the gang. Did the teacher change? Not really: he could still change from avuncular to an A-one bastard in the blink of an eye, but at least he saw us as individuals. (Next year when he signed my album, he complained to me about how dull his present class was.)
———————-o———————-
For a kid from Bed-Stuy, I was remarkably naïve about race relations. I saw the teacher’s views as ignorance (it was) and an anomaly (it was NOT). I thought racism the province of evil Southern crackers and, with the exception of cops (I wasn’t THAT naïve!), not normally a sin of Northern whites. (Three years in a mostly white special high school beat that delusion to a bloody pulp.) But fortunately, I’m blessed with a very long, accurate (though not eidetic) memory, one that allows me to reexamine experiences through the lens of maturity.
For although the Left would be loath to acknowledge it, most white Americans at the time had a distinctly HBD mindset. One such H.S. teacher with that mentality had, in fact marched with King. The right/left difference was primarily what they’d do with that “knowledge”—and what they’d admit to. The Left had what I call PETA racial tolerance: didn’t want to see black folks mistreated or shorn of dignity and opportunity, but secretly didn’t believe we were equal to them, either.
———————-o———————-
As an aside, I think the whole premise behind the “Arab slave trader” argument is a belief in the inherent mental inferiority of black people. The very same white Americans who have invested a great deal of emotional capital in this belief cannot escape the psychological trap that the same reasoning, backed by copiously documented history, would lead them to conclude that they are congenitally evil. They must (should) scrap both conclusions. Or they must accept both. This is why “Arab slave trader” pops up in weird non sequitors all the time.
Thank you, Abagond, for excluding the White-Is-Right-wingers from this cathartic thread: my access to a computer is limited, and I will not be replying. Peace.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yet another “school” story…..
*****sighs*****
LikeLike
Im all the way in Trinidad reading this…….UNBELIEVABLE!!!!!
LikeLike
I guess I first realized I was “different” when I was about eight years old. It happened at school. I remember walking into school when I felt a hand on my back pushing me. I stumbled and knocked into some white kid in front of me. Mind you it was an accident. Anyway he turned around with a really disgusted look on his face and said “You n*****!” I remember being shocked and feeling like I was dirty. No one had ever called me such an ugly word before. In my family we NEVER used that term to describe each other or other Blacks (see, not all Black people go around referring to each other with that term!). I felt terrible the whole time I was at school that day. I never told my mother that story until I became grown.
LikeLike
First I must express my gratitude and Thank and give thanks for people like abagond who show and prove that they really do care about others, that there is and always will be love and understanding out there ,to not give up hope for justice may yet prevail.
As to my first experience of “white racism” (black or in/own group racism!? whole nother blog post correct?)
I’m not sure exactly what age I was ,just that I was somewhere between 8 and 12.
Anyway I was walking by myself somewhere around my Neigborhood when from a parked car with two young adult white males – one of them called me a nigger.
I remember not actually being angry or scared but wondering why someone I didn’t know would say that to me.
When I think back now that I’m a middle aged adult having been through so much of life ,how little I knew of the world at that time :I knew little to nothing of the inumerable ways we sapiens hate and love each other nor the reasons why.
As I can see from the many comments of this post I read that some of us (people of color/nonwhite?) have had much harsher experiences of this phenomena then others.
As To africans and african americans – some talk of finacial reparations ,legal sanctions or improved representation services and education all of which may help
but from reading the comments here it will be far more difficult to heal the wounds of heart spirit and hope.
maybe this is why we(africans and african americans) don’t live as long,not as wealthy etc etc.
LikeLike
I’ve experienced so many incidents that they’ve all seemed to blur together. But what I remember most is hating the fact that my parents loved to travel. Most of our summer vacations and excursions took us to places where there were little or no people of color. I came to resent this, and wondered why my parents would put us through it over and over. It wasn’t until later that I realized that I have a right to go wherever I please without being harassed or made to feel subhuman.
Well, while on one of our many trips, we ended up in some town in Iowa. We were on our way to some other place way west but my mom decided to stop and get something to eat. We walked into this restaurant and everyone stopped talking. It was like in the movies when the record scratches and everyone just stares. I could literally hear crickets. Then my father who felt that his money was as green as anyone else’s, led us to a seat even though no one made a move to seat us. A guy, eventually came along and literally THREW our silverware onto the table. I remember a fork came flying past my face and onto the floor. I was about to pick it up when my mother said, “Leave it there.”
The atmosphere finally thawed a bit, and we were served after a while. I was so afraid. All I wanted to do was go home and be around people who wouldn’t hate me because of what I looked like. Over the years, I’ve had instances of covert and overt racism directed at me and at friends of mine. I once was told that a position at a temp agency was not available, because the company no longer wanted to work with the agency. Then the interviewer offers the White woman who came in behind me the same position, unaware that I was still sitting in the waiting area. I’ve had people look at my biracial baby and say, “She’s mixed right? Well, you did good. She’s so pretty” As if having my baby with a Black man would have made her any less beautiful. And as if this was a congratulatory undercover way of saying “Thank goodness you’ve started breeding the black out.” I usually fix a searing glare upon people who say this and walk away. Or some White people will look at my baby, look at me and then say, “Where’s the father? He’s not black is he?” *rolls eyes*
LikeLike
^Oh and my favorite was a high school teacher who told the class (of mostly Black students, mind you) that “Jesus was white. Because he was Jewish. And all Jews are white.”
LikeLike
Hello Abagond.
I am older brother [50 years old] that have seen, and followed racists and racism in America and abroad and maybe i can add somethings to the conversation.I do not usually[very rarely post on anything!] make comments here that may add to some understandings from my own point of view, as well as others that i have conversed with. I have lived in, and visited places in British Columbia, Alberta and Quebec City, and others, in Canada, Southeast Asia, and even Central Asia and Africa and parts of China.They [caucs] fear both color and culture… so both are so entwined and vital to what and why they do this! from your looks to your food..everything is fair game to these types! The societies they come from are all “fear” based, and NOT based on justice for all..as those Caucasoids and their satellite racists [non-European based] truly believe in all this “supremacy” doctrines. They use one peoples against the others, and i have seen this time and time again from those that try to ‘fit” in..but never would and cannot. Most societies like those in even China..you can work yourself to acceptance,even through most of the hard core bigots..but in the “westernized” world, you will never do this as FEAR and institutional racism is the driving factors for their irrationalities!
I do hope i am not rambling too much here, and sorry for typos, but this site and these posts can help tell some things that may help for understandings to the effects and why they do this and what is the effects and aftermaths of therefore, as people of color have had their very real and chilling and bad experiences just dismissed from most benign pale/pink -skins to the “master race” types, in society and especially on the internet. I think that like minded people with a good agenda and tactics can do wonders and promote something special, so i think the moderator for this chance to write and “vent” a bit!;-)
I really want to “cut loose”, and tell more, but the stories i have would be too long for here, and do not know how people as whole would feel about them, as bringing up more pain maybe counter productive, and i do not want to be “negative” all the times..but the society keeps giving me and others..plenty or ammo! The whole agenda of “White society”, is built to underminding and keeping you and others retarded and subservient and even destructions to ones selves, as there have been i known at least two suicides to just the African/Afro-American sides and other people of color.
I will tell you that being strong and taking them to task is the only ways to go..at least then you will have done all you can and feel good about yourself with higher esteem, as this country and some abroad using non-Africans based peoples to further the pink-skins agendas. I must first explain as i do not call them “white”, as they are NOT and “white” like “black” [or any other color in the chart…does NOT denote race and ethnicity nor culture], to which Pink-skins, like to make themselves on the side of “God”, and a civilization based on total truths and fairness and “culture” that are..and will always be virtuous and of course truly righteous! All others to them, are considered MUCH less and servants to them and support them in their own “superiorities” to their own delusions of grandeur. they are NOT fair not benign benefactors trying to uplift others, but just using others for purposes i do not have to mention to both men and women and of actually continuing “White Supremacy”.
By knocking down others and keeping others at inferior levels, so that a person of color, if shown the back door so many times..they ingrain in them to seek it themselves. So through their “White” [European/Caucasoid]civilizations, they constantly and relentlessly through deed and word…pursue and try their best to retard and make as though people of color did nothing[which to exception of the “model minority” type Asian[Chinese] to be true and factual “civilized societies” on earth! Much energy and time is used to constantly keep these lies in the forefront and those with weak constitutions and of mind, to help further their agenda and beliefs and societies, by making and perpetrating a “underclass” How many times has this gone on and through so called “higher levels” of learning? it starts from the moment we come in contact to even “neutral” and “fair” based merit places of learnings..that are not so uplifting nor neutral at all! Many teacher and facilities have a stake in keeping people of color subservient and docile. Now THAT is the “great white way”!
I wrote above to let those know, that my heart truly feels and know how BAD and WORST the effects of racism and prejudice have a effect..from the then to now. I understand have gone through some of worst, and as activist[Panther party member] and with kick-ass attitude, you must be on your guard and take the pain back to those insecure pink-skins[and their non-Caucasoid surrogates!] the facts that we that much better despite all the obstacles and intentional blocks to our path to success either personally or world wide does work and grate on their little devious and Sociopathic little minds and hearts, as they know deep within they would never be about to begin to ever duplicate success when dealing all the trials and tribulations that have treated people of color. Wherever and whenever, i see and go to somewhere…it is always within 99.9997% it is a Caucasian that causes the troubles and controversy! It is if the it is inbred in them to do this!! Now since this is about first times, i will relate my story now.
I was about 7 years old, and i had to move from our “black section” due to developments[they never did anything to area…just tried to divide the blacks and move throughout the town and divide them and thus..making sure they are vulnerable, so to… and split up with the guise of “intergration”] So i moved and went to school called “Gleniffer Hill”, in a city in Kansas and their we were only the Afro-based family for about 3-4 square miles! The place and neighborhood we moved to, was shocked, but welcoming but there were a few “Jim Crow”holdouts around.[This was the later 1960’s you know!] One pink -skin[Redneck] man Named “kregmeier”, had a lawn jockey in his yard and when he saw us[just me and my mother] he sneered. We lived down the street from them It was nice to not be their neighbors! Many kids there placed and went together and including their kids, that we all played together. When we were invited into his yard and house to place he said ” we do not let those N***gers here in my yard and why is He here?” i got the vibes and since i had known about these types[but was never taught properly] , i was not so intimidated but shocked and dismayed to his display! I called him a Cracker and challenged him, but he went inside, like the coward he was, and the kids stopped and even his kids were looking down and did not know what to say but to leave the yard and maybe dad would cool down! I told my mother and she was incensed and walked down there and called him out! He stammered and was stalling with me watching and the neighbors as my mother called him out! That ended that with him going inside mumbling something. What was not known is that my Grandparents moved to house on the same block and only about 3 houses away from the Kriegmeiers, and my Grandfather was a Butcher by trade and very heavy work, and was mostly over 250 lbs of muscle!When the rare event came across a bigot my Grandfather usually flattened the men and did not take stuff of anyone! the police we even scared and with his buddy Duke[a even bigger Afro man!] they walked in confidence and had even back up too![Guns and armed] I have seen my Grandfather go after those that crossed him and woe begone to those that said anything to the family! Add to the fact the my Grandfather was fighter and strong[he boxed and did bare-knuckled] and was over 6’3″ tall, this was a intimidating presence to the neighborhood, with my outspoken Grandmother, that took no stuff and actually hated the pale skins! When he first saw him and he looked over there, the so called “man”, went in and came back later and too the lawn jockey off the property, never to be seen again!! When my Grandfather heard this about what happened he was just going to pay him a “visit” [for most then and about it meant something bad was going to happen to one of them!;-)] he came out and introduced himself and said that “welcome to neighbohood” false emotes, that most of them do..and my Grandfather looked at him as you would a pile of doggie- doo. and said: I heard what happened and if something likes this happens again… i will be back and you WILL not like it..and thanks for the welcome! Now about what you called my Grandson it better not EVER happen again or me and you goin have a little “talk” Mr. Krag[my Grandfather know his name, but demeaned him by calling him what HE wanted to call him!] The whole neighborhood was scared and tried so much to befriend us and them! It was something to see and laugh at too! As one author implied and said famously,”It is better to feared then loved!” and this is what Caucasoid society has done to to all of us that challenges their rule and society as whole! it always uses fear and violent tactics them blames others for being MORE violent! If any one in this world is the most violent..ask all those pink-skins with guns and occupying other nations and killing people of color, and this is just throughout just the 20th century! It is beyond shocking what they and what they had done not just their own citizens..but those in the Philippines and Haiti and Africa and even Hawaii!
With that , i even was invited back to play with his kids and in the yard and he even smiled at me when he saw me..and i just sneered and called him something that was not nice but cannot fully remember. I never did go back there as his kids became my biggest fans and playmates and he died a few years later in agony![what a shame!]
Anyways, my two cents and do not even get me started to what the school was like[i was the first ONLY person of color there or any color!] as i can see it now in 2012 that in America and the world..we have not come far at all..just same things more covert and insidious! What i see is some younger people actually thinking that racism and non-equality are a think in the far past..and that they will not and cannot experience this! Ignorance is bliss i guess and when some do find out different..it hits like a bus! I really feel and think that the Hybrids children[mixed] have a it the worst! At least in in America and Britain they do! For many cannot come to grips to and with many problems, racially and ethnically, and forced to choose sides and even friends based on a lot extra and detrimental effects…should they have a have a Caucasian parent or family, and be one of African or Asian or even Indian admixes. Then things i have seen and consoled on with people in the real world..makes me think and know there is much, much work to be done to help with the pains from past injustices.*sigh*
If any one would like to read something good on this, i have some suggestions, but tell all to read about Tim Wise, the “Anti-Racialist} and Caucasian male,about how and why they do things to us… from a actual Caucasian that gets it…and how we can take it back to them, as well as get some others that are and will look after us without a agenda, save the highest of goals, that we have and should all be doing to combat this evil, that we as other people of color, would never to do them..and be able to look in a mirror and call ourselves “good” and “civilized”.
Thank for this thread and keeping the racist “trolls” and other miscreants off this thread at least Abagond! 😉
Hope i have not bored anyone here or offended[too much!] besides said Racist Trolls! 😉
LikeLike
Reblogged this on leaarong.
LikeLike
It was 1970 the first time I truly saw overt racism, not practiced on me this time but certainly directed at me and my siblings. I was 9 years old, growing up in San Diego, CA. My parents were both from the south, so each year we would pack up as a family and make our annual cross country drive to Memphis, Tenn. Well this year was one of those “long hot summers” that had been taking place in other major cities and it appeared it was going to happen this summer in San Diego. I remember very clearly in the fall of 1969 the senior students of one of the majority “black” high schools in town, where my big brother attended staged a walk out demanding better conditions, books and learning materials for black student.
I was sitting in my third grade class when we could hear sirens wailing and approaching the high school. The elementary school sat directly across the street from the high school and we could see all the police cars rushing over to the high school. Shortly thereafter I received a note in class ordering me to the school office right away. My mother was there checking me, and my little sister out of school and immediately taking us home. She and my father then rushed up to the high school where the police had began beating the students as they were sitting on the grass in the quad section of the school. The news came on at noon with video of what was taking place at the school. To my surprise I could see my father standing in front of my brother sitting on the grass. He has his arms folded as if to say to the cops “you will not beat my son today.” Well the cops never laid a hand on my brother that day. This seemed to spark what was really going to be a “long hot summer in San Diego.”
We got out of school in June each year and our family trip would often take place in early July. But this year was going to be different. We were not going to drive across country this year. My father had purchased airline tickets for my mother, little sister and little brother. My older brother would fly down later. I was super hyped, my first airplane trip. The day came and we all got dressed up, because back in those days you wore a suit, or sport coat and a tie when you flew. Finally we reached our destination in Memphis, and one of my cousins picked us up from the airport. We then went to my grandparent’s house and where we stayed a couple days there and then we were to go and stay a week in Duck Hill, Miss. My maternal grandparents were from this area in Mississippi and they owned a lot of land there. I mean a lot of land. Of course none of us children wanted to go because it was in the country, like back woods, like dirt roads. Memphis wasn’t San Diego, but at least it was a city and we could relate a little better. But, back country Duck Hill…Nah, wasn’t going to cut it. Me, and my sister thought we were going to die that week. But we made it. And we had a great time.
But, this was the clincher. We, growing up in San Diego never really saw overt racism. It was more of a kind of back handed racism black people dealt with on a daily basis prior to the riots. Oh, yes my father called us when we returned to Memphis to let us know parts of San Diego was burning. But, up until then the racism was coded and hidden. At any rate, we were coming to our last day or so in Duck Hill and after getting used to a bit of the country life and really coming to love and understand our country cousins we had a blast until on the day before last day there before we left the next morning. We city “chillums” wanted to walk to the store like we would back home in San Diego or even when we were in Memphis. So, we begged our mother for some change and off we went down the dirt road, my cousin all of about 8 years old walked along with us with a .22 rifle in hand. We got to the store, Fate Fowlers General Store (I will never forget the name of the store), my cousin leaves the rifle outside, we get our candy, cookies, and cup cakes and other junk and my sister and myself pay for our junk. Next my cousin gets to the counter, gives old cranky white Fate Fowler his money and waits for his change. Old a$$ Fate grabs he kid junk and holds the change. Now me and my sister are standing at the door waiting for our cousin and we here this old probably KKK member say in his Mississippi drawl “now John what chu ‘sposed to say?” My sister and I are looking at each other like WTH??? My cousin finally says “thank you suh” and ole a$$ Fate throws his change and candy across the counter at him saying “don’t forget your manners boy or else ahm gone tell yo mama.”
My sister and I were just shocked. We couldn’t say anything. We felt like “dang he just paid for it, now he gotta say thank you too?” We never forgot that scene. Later as we got older and would discuss it, we figured ole a$$ Fate Fowler wanted to make sure he put my cousin in his place, that he better not start “actin like them uppity cousin from up north” we figured Fate thought we were from up north due to the lack of a Mississippi accent from my sister and myself. John seemed to act as if that was normal everyday life for him, but we certainly had and experience that day. That was just the beginning, for in a few short years I was really going to find out about institutional racism and white supremacy in my own high school experiences.
LikeLike
One of my first experiences that I strongly believe was about white racism, was when I was in the first grade, back in 1990. The elementary school itself, was actually a great, racially diverse school, and every teacher I had there, white and black, was nice to me, except for my first grade teacher. This teacher was white, she had a stern demeanor and in my young eyes, she looked like an evil witch. Even though I couldn’t articulate it at that time, I intuitively knew that she had favoritism for the white students and treated the few minorities in her class like second class citizens. She just emitted a vibe that was pure evil. Even though this was a long time ago, I remember the minority students not liking her, at all. I guess it was bad luck on my part to have gotten her for a teacher, because at the end of that school year, she retired. But at least nobody else had to deal with her subtle cruelties. I remember her coming back for a visit to the school after that, when I was in the third grade, and she acted nice, and spoke to me. I wasn’t buying it, and still felt like this woman was evil to the core.
LikeLike
I’ve also experienced feeling invisible around white people, because a lot of them will either ignore you or they have this look, where they are basically looking right through you, and they don’t see you as a person. That is really uncomfortable, and when I was in situations like that, I couldn’t wait to be able to leave and get back to my comfort zone.
LikeLike
@Panko
I can relate to you. I experienced that crap last year at my Catholic high school. I got straight A’s and my grades were still good. They would tell me that I am smart all the time though. The White girls would exclude me, make fun of me behind my back and talk behind my back The White guys teased me as well as the Black dudes. It was the worst school year of my life.
Plus the White students said ignorant things about Blacks and the president.
The White female girls made me feel ugly and not as pretty as them. The light skinned girl was treated better than me and they thought she was pretty.
LikeLike
@Introvertedwanderer
”I’ve also experienced feeling invisible around white people, because a lot of them will either ignore you or they have this look, where they are basically looking right through you, and they don’t see you as a person. That is really uncomfortable, and when I was in situations like that, I couldn’t wait to be able to leave and get back to my comfort zone.”
Yup I feel the same way in class at times.
LikeLike
This thread proves America’s denial is her pathology when it come to racism. .What a powerful indictment . Clearly those who practiced racism are mentally deranged . Abagond, I think you should remove those from your blog who want to continue the process of denying the obvious. The can visit sites like stormfront .They are not interested solutions . Only keeping this demonic , vile racism alive.
LikeLike
@ Amenta
Yet another sad racist experience. So touching.
So do I!
Especially when they refer to a person of my race,
my race; I don’t like that word, bcause i believe in one race: the “Human Race”. as “being burnt, tremendously dirty or as dark as the night”.
I usually say to that person: ” Do you think you’re white?
No you aren’t”. You’re Pink , sometimes/usually i call them beige.
You say white, not because of your skin, but race, for your own good because Vampires and ghosts are whites; and i suppose you are neither a Vampire nor a Ghost! Apparently, you don’t look like one!
And i usually say to the females: ” When you go to the make -up store, what colour of concealer, powder do you buy, white?
That’s a moment i enjoy alot (sometimes i feel childish, but they called for it) because of the the feeling/look of despair i get from them.
Some do go on and say:” what about the Nordic White?
And i tell them:” They’ve pale pink/beige skin tone.”
When they refer to our skin as being left in the fire for too long/or taken out in time”.
I simply say:” And you’re colourless because you were exaggeratedly washed in the washing-machine.
And i also say: ” compare the colour of your skin to the colour of the cloth you’re wearing (white cloth), the difference is clear!
.
LikeLike
“There are also the whıte people that consıder themselves not-racıst who feel they can judge us.
….
It seems some whıte people – now matter how ‘good’ they thınk they are at understandıng and respectıng – have no clue how cruel they can be and how bloody mındless they are.”
***************
Hmmm… that would be MOST rather than SOME white people. And the reason I can say MOST is because racism wouldn’t exist if a pivotal number of ENOUGH non-clueless white people didn’t give support to the foundation, bedrock, mortar, pillars and refinements that sustain and perpetuate whiteness/racism.
Nonetheless, Bulanik, I feel what you’re saying about sharing your experience(s) here.
LikeLike
So, I was about 11 years old when my mom stopped at a convenience store in rural Texas, close to were we lived.
My little brother, little sister, and I waited in the car as she payed for something she needed. All of a sudden a very old, very scary, (wrinkled face, rotted teeth, scowled looking) white woman peered into the passenger side window – where I was sitting! and she said, “What ya’ll doin’ round here?, Don’t you know we gots the KKK?”
Suffice to say, – I nearly pissed my panties. I told my mother, in tears, about that lady. She went Angry Black Woman Psycho, found the woman and told her in no uncertain terms – “Bring it!”
But still, I can’t completely forget how that old woman made me feel. It was unforgettable, to say the least. And, in my mind – my mom was a mixture of kamikaze and martyr. I hate that memory.
LikeLike
I cannot remember my first experience because there was always some form of racism around me. First of all I was born in 1962 in a small town in Virginia, our schools did not desegregate until 1970, we did not receive a black bank teller until the early 80’s. There were a separate park for blacks and whites, there were places we blacks knew that was only for whites, it was something our older relatives taught us. When we desegregated, I attended a high school that had a plaque donated to them from the KKK. If I saw a white classmate in *town*, they would look through me, never acknowledging me. Most of the black kids were put in remedial class. We never associated after school, I remember when Jimmy Carter was president and a white girl I thought was cool was telling another girl, “my mother is not going to vote for him, he’s a nigger lover”. Even through all this, not once have I ever felt whites were *better* than me, and I think that is because my first years of school I was around black teachers, in fact most of the blacks did not want to integrate because we had the newer nicer schools – because in the past our schools were so substandard they finally built new schools for us, then a couple of years later they had to integrate. It was only on paper that we were integrated, in reality we were still segregated
LikeLike
One of my earliest memories…
I used to play with this girl. She had a birthday party so naturally, as we were ‘friends’ I thought I would be invited. When I saw she had handed every child in the class an invitation but me, hurt and confused I questioned her about it.
Her response: ‘My mum doesnt like brown people so you can’t come’
I was sad but I accepted it already aware at 6 nearly 7 that some WP had this stance.
I would like to think that things have changed but, a ‘friend of a friend’, laughingly regaled her story (to my friend) about her own child who had become acquainted with a black child who, as a parent she thought was ‘annoying’. She said that her child was having a party and had told the black girl that her parents didnt want her there because she was black. She said she didnt say this but thought it ‘ingenious’ that her child was ‘clever’ enough to use this excuse….
30 odd years on and some people still ‘won’t’ get it.
LikeLike
@ Demerera
Your “friend of a friend” is a real piece of something I scrape off the bottom of my shoe. I”ll never understand how adults can justify mistreating an innocent child simply because of the color of his or her skin. They’re babies for god’s sake! Don’t get me wrong; I am a teacher so I know all about annoying children. But this person simply hates this child because of her skin color and her own daughter picked up on it and called her mother out on it. As far as her not saying it to her daughter she didn’t have to. Adults constantly underestimate children all the time; children may lack the sophistication of adults due to their lack of life experience, but they understand a lot more than what we adults give them credit for.
LikeLike
@mochasister
children may lack the sophistication of adults due to their lack of life experience, but they understand a lot more than what we adults give them credit for.
True say! Fortunately my friend didnt let it go unchallenged. She was also gratified to note that instead of the LOL response the ‘storyteller’ envisaged, the other mothers squirmed and looked away in discomfort.
LikeLike
My pal was mad at lunch because she told me that this racist White girl was saying that all Blacks are ghetto, loud, illilerate etc and she said this about Blacks every blasted class period. This time, the girl told me that she had enough and she reported this to the discipline office after the teacher wouldn’t do anything about it. She was so mad because she isn’t ghetto or illiterate neither am I. I am mad about that but I know at the end that White girl will get what she deserves.
LikeLike
I’de say my most real racist incident was when I was around 7 years and staying at a child minders house after school, her son who must have been about 12 years old point blank said why are you looking after her she is nigga. None of the rest of the family I stayed with were racist towards me just that boy. I was shocked but for some reason I didn’t tell my parents, I told my mum later in life and she asked why I din’t tell her as she wouldn’t have had me stay with that child minder anymore if her son had been racist.
Before that I just experienced more innocent racial comment like your skin colour is like peanut butter. I am half black & white and have grown up in the UK, I have been called paki (short for pakinstani, raicst word used towards people of colour in the UK) suprisingly moreso than the n word. Growing up if i recall my child hood my racist experiences, I have mostly been targered white boys, not white men, boys. The men on my mum’s side of the family are white and my step dad is white and I know there are still a lot of good white men out there.
Being mixed race I have never had black people target me because of my skin colour. I think in the UK because mixed race and black people are moreso in the minority than in the US we don’t tend to make so much of a big deal about the whole dark skin, light skin thing, we identify with each other as a minority in the UK who are of black origin. It’s ironic that in the US where the one drop rule has been more enforced there seems to be more of a light skin dark skin divide than for people of black origin in Europe.
LikeLike
@Jennifer
Yes. I have been labelled a ‘black paki’ *sigh* – WTF!
LikeLike
“…that White girl will get what she deserves.”
Or not.
LikeLike
@Bulanik
I know. I think some people just dont give sh*t and want to say the worst thing they can possibly think of to say – whats worse than being ‘black’ or being a ‘P@ki’, you know. Either that or I am giving them too much credit – they are just to friggin ignorant to know or care.
LikeLike
I am Asian and married to a white male who see racist remarks as nothing but just a little joke. My husband loves me and looks after me very well. This is the only habit of him that bugging me. I must admit, I have never learned so much about racial jokes/slurs/comments or whatever you want to call it in my entire life until I’ve met him. I get work up sometimes and had an argument with him about it, so I did say nasty things about white people in return and he told me that I take it too far as it’s just a joke. I am living in this country where I can feel the unfair towards people of colour and especially if you have a foreign accent when you talk in English. They even use the word “broken english” which I find it’s hurtful. The other day I discussed my husband’s behaviour and described almost all the details and conversation to my supervisor about it. She’s not white but she is of native of this country (but she had white gran). She was angry at the beginning and she told me that I shouldn’t have to put up with this. However, later she told me that my husband just want to make me angry and I fall for it. Today, when I went back to work again, she and the rest of the ladies (all white) seem to ignore me and avoid greeting me. I feel very embarrass and sad now that I shouldn’t have told anyone about my family issue since it damage my relationship at work. I don’t have any social life or face to face friends that is why I enjoy chatting to someone whenever I feel comfortable to do so. Now, I feel that it’s all my mistake. But how much should I let someone cross the line and make me feel bad.
LikeLike
@iWONDER
My goodness. You do have a lot to contend with dont you. First of all, out of decency and respect to your wishes, I would urge your husband to listen to you and take on board what you say at the very least but…
I am a little baffled here.
Did you not get any indication that this was his type of, for want of a better word ‘humour’ when you were courting?
Does he behave this way in front of others?
I get work up sometimes and had an argument with him about it, so I did say nasty things about white people in return and he told me that I take it too far as it’s just a joke
I guess you responded in what would have been deemed an emotive way? Either that or your comments hit too close to home and what is sauce for the goose in this instance isnt for the gander in this instance…. I’m intrigued though. In the main, woud he find it acceptable if you engaged in the same ‘banter’ about WP with him or, is humour towards WP strictly off topic?
Today, when I went back to work again, she and the rest of the ladies (all white) seem to ignore me and avoid greeting me.
I guess they dont know what to say to you. People can be odd like that unfortunately.
LikeLike
Hi Demerera,
Thanks for your reply. I’m sorry that I forgot all about the original topic of this post. I will come back to my first experience of white racism?
About your questions:
Re: Did you not get any indication that this was his type of, for want of a better word ‘humour’ when you were courting? Ans: No, I don’t recall anything like this at the beginning. Maybe I didn’t get it as I am not good at sarcarsm, or complicated jokes.
Re: Does he behave this way in front of others? Ans: He does while talking to his family sometimes.
Re: I guess you responded in what would have been deemed an emotive way? Ans: Exactly, it has always been an emotive way and made me sad for days.
Re: woud he find it acceptable if you engaged in the same ‘banter’ about WP with him or, is humour towards WP strictly off topic? Ans: If it’s not aiming directly at him or saying it aloud during our argument of other unrelated subjects then he is okay with it.
You’re right about people can be odd. Things seem to be normal today and I think it’s all in my head. Thank you for your advice.
Now, my first experience of W racism was almost 20 years ago, I still remember I gave some spare change to this guy who sat on the floor with a sign saying that he needs $$ so much as he has such a hard life, when I gave my coins to him, he then spat at me and mumbling something but I can hear the word Asian 😦 I was so embarrased by his action and thought of revenge because I was also very angry but of course I didn’t do anything. Another one while we (me and my husband) were out in a pub with his father, a friend of his father who I have met for the first time and is likely to be the only time, kept saying this to me “Can do, Can do” I didn’t get it until my husband told him off then I understood what was going on, they all tried to tell me that this friend has a loud mouth and asked me to ignore him. Oh boy, I have countless things to talk about this subject.
LikeLike
Dude, these stories kill me. 😦 First, I want to say that you guys are all incredibly brave and strong. I’ve been through my own share of racist bullshit but some of y’all have had it much worse.
As a woman of mixed race, I have many painful memories of racism. It didn’t always come from white people but since this topic is specifically about white racism, I will try to share some of my experiences. It is difficult for me to talk about it because I’ve spent most of my life trying to push it out of my mind. Unfortunately, that resulted in severe depression.
Anyway, I attended a private Christian school that was mostly white until I was about 10. My experiences weren’t completely terrible but they weren’t wonderful either. I guess I fit in somewhat because my skin was as light as that of the white kids. But by the time I was 6 years old, I knew I was different. I knew that my hair was different. I knew that only the white girls were considered “pretty” and the teachers were generally nicer to them. I was fiercely protective of my mother because I didn’t want anyone to laugh at her Jamaican accent. I also developed a complex about my identity, my culture, and my appearance.
My best childhood friend was a white girl who would play with my hair and tell me I was pretty, but I started wishing that my skin could be even lighter than it already was (and I’m very fair-skinned to begin with). I started wanting blue eyes and silky blonde hair that would bounce all over the place.
I had a Filipina teacher in second grade who put me through hell. As another commenter stated previously when sharing her own experiences, I couldn’t do math very well. I was a smart kid but I had an undiagnosed learning disability. So there were certain concepts that I didn’t pick up as quickly as everybody else. This teacher humiliated and punished me to the point where my self-esteem was eroded. My white classmates would call me stupid and ugly and she would laugh with them.
Then third grade came around and Mrs. Brown was my teacher. She was a white woman from Louisiana. I was one of two black/biracial kids in her class. She left the other kid alone (a boy named Corey) but she seemed to have it in for me. I was forced to write “I Am Stupid” on the board because I couldn’t master long division. I was forced to stay inside and sit facing the wall while the other kids went out to play, for no apparent reason. She called me a “retard” one day and I couldn’t take it anymore. I told my mother and my mom had a talk with her.
I have memories of being excluded from birthday parties and of my friend deciding that she didn’t want to play with me, for reasons I couldn’t understand. I remember playing with some other black girls in my neighborhood and these two girls, a white girl and a half-Vietnamese/half-white girl, started playing with us. They wouldn’t allow us into their homes and at one point the white girl actually dragged me around by one of my braids…I’m ashamed to say that I didn’t stop her from disrespecting me that way.
I remember some white parents pulling their kids away from me when I was a little girl. I remember that the truly racist comments from white people, though, started when I was in junior high. I was friends with this white boy named John (only in school because I’m sure his parents wouldn’t let him be friends with “colored” kids) and he did/said some really foul, fucked-up things to me. Like telling me repeatedly that I had “nigger hair”. Like saying that I had to be Cuban or something instead of biracial (black/white), because my skin was too light and I was too pretty to be black. Like constantly touching my hair when I asked him to stop and saying that it felt like wool. The irony was that by this time, I was attending a school that was 95% Black.
I remember some subtle racism from certain white teachers as well, but it wasn’t always something that I could clearly identify. Some of these teachers would lose my work or give me poor grades that weren’t deserved. Sometimes they would refuse to call on me when I raised my hand.
What’s funny about it is that I wanted to be accepted by white people because I didn’t feel accepted by most blacks. I figured that white people wouldn’t be as harsh in their rejection of me. And to some extent, that is true. I’ve never had a white person say anything derogatory about the color of my skin…can’t say the same for most of the Black people I’ve encountered. But I can relate to what some people have said here about feeling either invisible or like a freak. I believe that most white people are indifferent to me. They just don’t care about me. I think some people can only see the humanity in somebody who looks like themselves.
I have more to share, but I’ll stop here.
Oh, and @iWONDER…I, too, am married to a white man and I’ve made it clear that I will not tolerate any racism/disrespect from him and the people close to him. I believe that if your husband loves you and respects you, he should understand that his actions are unacceptable.
Believe me, I know it can be difficult to call somebody out. I’m not the most assertive person in the world. But sometimes it needs to be done for your own sanity and self-esteem. From my own experience, if you don’t say anything and you let it slide, it will eat away at you.
But I’m curious…when you met that guy and he kept saying “can do, can do” what does that mean?
LikeLike
BTW, special thanks to Abagond for creating this safe space where we can share our experiences without having to worry that somebody will be dismissive. 😉
LikeLike
Cinnamondiva,
Thank you for sharing your story. I am Jamaican with Latino heritage (dad’s mixed-race from Panama and Honduras). I didn’t grow up in US (did 2 years in high school, then left US) but I can understand your frustrations.
In the beginning, I always had a hard time trying to walk the colour tightrope in America –like you, I’ve had a hard time with both black and white Americans from the way I look, to the way I speak.
I’m curious, did you go Jamaica as a child? How was your treatment there as a ‘browning’?
LikeLike
@SW6 Thanks for the link @Bulanik, My dad is of East Asian decent and my mum is of South Asian. But they both was borned and grown up in the same country. @ Cinnamondiva, I am quite assertive at work and with my family, and I kick a real fuzz about things. His comments just caught me off guard each time and it usually start of with my anger then realize that what should I say in return. I wasn’t grown up in English speaking environment, therefore I do have accent when I talk in English. So this guy attempted to make a joke by mimicking my accent by saying Can do (I think). I am not very good at reading strangers’ insult and especially first time meeting with them, so it took me a while to get it (and apply the same with sarcarsm). Oh yes, Special thanks to Abagond too. My hubby doesn’t want me to come to this website as he said it’s corrupted me but why shouldn”t I?!! Today I walked into this aisle at the shop and there were this W/Old lady behind me but I didn’t see her. Then I bumped into her handbag by accident so I automatically said Sorry. She then walked off and mumbling about something without turning to look at me. She could be saying anything but I’ve already assumed that she tried to say something rude to me. If I don’t say sorry, they could say “bloody rude A” as I have heard and read it from somewhere many times. There is no win win here. But my experiences couldn’t compare with many of us here. I hope racist will stop one day with harmony. I must admit, I have been told that I have a big chip on my shoulder. But, why can’t I?
LikeLike
@iWONDER
Oh yes, Special thanks to Abagond too. My hubby doesn’t want me to come to this website as he said it’s corrupted me but why shouldn”t I?!!
Indeed why shouldnt you but, it sounds already like your hubby views the site in a negative way. Would he sit down and look at it with you – perhaps learn from it and maybe even add his own valuable PoV – a WM being with a non white person?
IRR can be and are often challenging. Often this has little to do with the individuals involved in the union, more often than not it is the influences around that can and do have detrimental commentary to say that ignites feelings of upset and in some cases uncertainty. That’s why its important that if your hubby insists on having jokes at your expense, he ensures that you are on board with it. Otherwise, as it seems you are already feeling, it just seems like he is being disrespectful and mocking your background etc.
I can’t say that me and my hubby dont joke about ‘perceived’ differences in our race – they are more exaggerated comments based on things we have seen/heard either in real life or on the television. Perhaps that is our way of coping maybe but, this only started happening once we had established our relationship and understood what made each other tick, so a few years in. In part too it is probably because we have children we do this too – to highlight and show the ludicrous comments that people make and to laugh at them because they are often so absurd.
LikeLike
@ Linda…cool, another part-Jamaican sista up in here! 🙂 To answer your question, I was born and raised in the US but I visited my family in Jamaica very often during my childhood.
Since my grandmother’s death about 12 years ago, my visits have been infrequent. You wanted to know how people treated me as a “browning”. Well, it was kind of a mixed bag (no pun intended).
Some Jamaican men find me very attractive, but the attraction seems to be partly based on my skin color. Most Jamaicans are nice to me but they tend to be surprised when they find out that I have Jamaican roots. Some of them view me as a white woman because of my appearance and there is either hostility or amusement. I guess it depends on who is looking at me.
I speak patois fluently and I was raised by a Jamaican mother (who is also biracial herself), but the average Jamaican person can’t tell that by looking at me. I’m just a white girl or something else to them. So it’s kind of bittersweet. I don’t even fit in with my Jamaican relatives. I always stuck out like a sore thumb in many ways.
LikeLike
@ iWonder…I’m sorry you have to deal with so much crap. I agree with Demerera.
I’m the first woman of color my husband has ever been romantically involved with. He only associated with white people before meeting me. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but it is something that a lot of people do…they tend to segregate without being aware of it. All of the people in his social circle are white and to my knowledge, there is no interracial mixing in his family besides us. Sometimes his parents can be pretty ignorant but I either put them in check (nicely) or keep it moving because I’ve learned how to pick my battles.
Sure, there have been times when he has been somewhat insensitive with a few comments but he is willing to learn and to educate himself on certain issues. I believe that this seems to be the key. My husband has never visited this site but he would never try to discourage me from meaningful discussions (although talking about race/racism does make him uncomfortable sometimes, but we’re working on that).
It is interesting to me when a white person dates or marries a person of color, but holds onto racist attitudes. I hope your husband will understand that his actions are hurtful to you.
LikeLike
@ Bulanik…thanks for your kind words! I respect your wish to not share your experiences if you don’t feel comfortable.
Sadly, no, there were no other “outsiders” like me when I was growing up. Not to say that there weren’t any other biracial/multiracial people, but that most of them had found their niche in society. They were accepted while I wasn’t.
I was always reminded that somehow I was too this or not enough of that. I tried desperately to connect with people around me, but I was often rejected. I was a “cracker” or something else to most black people, and a “nigger/chink/insert racial slur” or just white trash to most white people.
I didn’t fit into any stereotypes and most people cling to stereotypes where I’m from. So that was an issue as well. No one knew what to make of a mixed girl who looked white with kinky hair and sounded different and had different interests. I frequently have Hispanic people approaching me speaking Spanish and they are confused when I speak with a slight Southern drawl. I don’t think some folks understand that there are indeed very fair-skinned blacks/biracials who can pass for white or other races.
So basically, my experience has been one of isolation and rejection. My own family treated me like an outsider and it was partly because of my appearance.
LikeLike
@ Bulanik:
FG is not allowed to comment on or react to anything written here, but I do not see where or how he has done that, though maybe I am missing something. He did not answer your comment on the 12th in the John Mohawk thread till today, but given his lack of long comments in June so far it could simply be a lack of time or opportunity on his part.
LikeLike
“Cinnamondiva
Some of them view me as a white woman because of my appearance and there is either hostility or amusement.”
“I didn’t fit into any stereotypes and most people cling to stereotypes where I’m from. I don’t think some folks understand that there are indeed very fair-skinned blacks/biracials who can pass for white or other races.”
They do understand, they are called Hispanic/Latinos 🙂
You would be considered white or brown anywhere in the Caribbean or Central America.
I was curious about your experience back home in Jamaica, I wondered if they would let you call yourself ‘black’ without giving you the side-eye.
My ‘white’ cousins from the Caymans always hated being told “they were not white” by white Americans when they studied in the US. Even though they are very fair-skinned, people assumed (by their accent and tan complexion) that they were Cuban or some kind of Spanish. I would ask them “why do you care?”
Of course I knew it bothered them because back home, they are considered white but I never understood their desire to be acknowledged as ‘white’ by white Americans, given the history of the country.
On the flip side, when I visit my fathers family in Honduras, they don’t understand why I call myself ‘black’, they tell me I have become Americanized.
I try to tell them that in the US, there is no concept of ‘morena’ (brown) or mestizo, society forces you to choose and in the eyes of black and white Americans, I don’t fit the stereotype look of Hispanic/Latina in the US (Sonia Vergara, Adriana Lima, etc) I’ve had black Americans ask me ‘what I am mixed with?’ and at the end of the conversation, they say, ‘well, you know you’re still black, right?” One-drop rule lives on in US.
At this point in life, I don’t care because I know who and what I am, but when I was younger, I was very annoyed by strangers labelling me and putting me in their stereotypical box.
LikeLike
@ Linda…I’m not sure about that. You see, where I live, the majority of Hispanics/Latinos ARE white or they identify as white.
They don’t see themselves as “mixed” like me, because that would mean admitting African or Indian heritage and most of the Latinos in my neck of the woods don’t want to do that. They either cling to a white identity or they refer to themselves by nationality/country of origin, i.e., Cuban, Colombian, Dominican, etc.
To my knowledge, I don’t have any Hispanic heritage at all. It confuses many people in Florida to see a person of my appearance (slightly Mediterranean-looking) who doesn’t speak Spanish. This is what I meant. When I say a fair-skinned black/biracial person who can pass for white, I mean one who is basically non-Hispanic…so basically, somebody like me. Think somebody like Lonnette McKee when she was very young.
I’ve never referred to myself as black in Jamaica because the conversation never really comes up. Some people see me as a “brownin”, while others see me as white or something else.
Now here in America, I’ve been looked at askance when discussing my Jamaican roots or mentioning my black heritage. Hispanics/Latinos are often taken aback and some white people are shocked. Some Black people can tell that I’m mixed, but they are few and far in between. It all depends on who is looking at me and what their perceptions may be, as well as whether they have been exposed to diverse phenotypes among people.
I’ve been out with my mother (who is darker than me but still light-skinned) and people of different races questioned if we were related. We don’t look exactly alike, but I think it should be obvious that she is my mom. But not everyone sees that.
I can see why it would bother your cousins from the Cayman Islands to be told they aren’t white, because they have one way of seeing themselves and I guess it can be somewhat unsettling to be in another country and realize that one is viewed differently by others. Identity is a very personal concept.
It doesn’t really sound like they want to be acknowledged as “white” by white Americans, but they don’t see themselves as “black” either. And I guess they’re neither…they’re people of mixed race.
Black Americans have asked me similar questions about my race or what I’m mixed with. I have to say that with the exception of talking to some people, I generally don’t feel comfortable sharing that information unless I know the person very well and I know they won’t judge me or treat me differently because of it. That goes for people of ANY race who want to know more about my background.
I guess it comes from not wanting to be stereotyped.
LikeLike
I really appreciated your input and it is really make me feel that I am not alone on this subject.
@Demerera
We had a talk about this subject today and he told me about his childhood where he and his friends tried to escape from another group of children (who are POC). He asked me, how else could his opinions be about this group of people. I also told him that I think he is racist and he told me that he is not, but I am. He said I am more racist than him. 😦 Anyway, I have asked him that let not use any racial slur, comment and etc anymore.
@Bulanik
He is quite a control freak, you are totally right.
You know, the time it hurts me most when for example; we go somewhere for foods and some W staff of the shop would only talk to him/greet him/ smile at him, or when I go somewhere, some people just acting as if I couldn’t understand what they say, and when I talked, they acting as if they’re in shock that I can talk just like how they could (the only different is that I have a mixture of accents)! The painful part is when I come back to tell my husband about these things, half of the time, he wouldn’t give a negative feedback about them and would try to give a positive justification for those people.
@Cinnamondiva
Before I met him, I have never dated a WP and always told myself that I will never. But when I met him who is so nice to me, we are in the same age, and get along so well. So I thought that I would give him a chance. I guess when you are with someone who you really love and love you; you can see them beyond their backgrounds (until they open their mouth so you get to fight!)
However, I don’t know how to put the parents in check except sitting and sulking about things that I feel unfair (in front of them).
On a different subject, Re: children with mixed race, I believe it’s depend on what is their upbringing and who has been looking after them. For some reason, a friend of mine is a mix between A (JP) and WP seems to identify self as part of WP. To me, this friend has A looks (but much taller), but this friend told me that WP couldn’t tell. However, this friend is only going out and attracted to POC.
Also, I have more stories about when I went for job interviews and how I was treated not only for being POC but also with an accent.
LikeLike
@iWONDER
We had a talk about this subject today and he told me about his childhood where he and his friends tried to escape from another group of children (who are POC). He asked me, how else could his opinions be about this group of people. I also told him that I think he is racist and he told me that he is not, but I am. He said I am more racist than him. Anyway, I have asked him that let not use any racial slur, comment and etc anymore.
When you say, tried to escape, was he having trouble with these children of colour? Me being like I am, I would want to know ALL of the facts – who did what to whom first and why lol. I do find it difficult to believe that one childhood incident would make such an irrevocable impression that would follow through into adulthood. If this was the case, I would not be with who I am with and I would have a lot of self loathing issues as much of my ancestry is European.
The word racist is so powerful and detrimental in turn, it is difficult to come back from. Perhaps in this instance it is fair to say that your husband is maybe ill informed? Does he understand how his opinions could be construed as being racist? It sounds like you are discontent at the moment but, we can all sit here and say this and that but it is YOU who is in this relationship and, you want to make it work for all the right reasons. I personally would go back to basics – ask him what about you attracted him to you in the first place and work from there. Its good that you have made your point about him making derogatory comments etc but, it sounds like you may have to be patient with him too. It probably wont happen overnight. It sounds like there is a legacy of stereotypes that your husband has grown up with that have become instilled in him but, hopefully this might make him think more about the impact of what he is saying.
In the past , when a WP has dared to make a racist joke at my expense (usually a WM) I ask them ‘would you go and say that to the BM over there?’ the smile drops from their face as they know they have been caught out. They say it to me because I am a female. Usually they wouldnt dare saying it to a BM for fear of their wrath. This is how you know that a person knows that they are doing wrong IMO.
LikeLike
@abagond and Bulanik
FG is not allowed to comment on or react to anything written here, but I do not see where or how he has done that, though maybe I am missing something. He did not answer your comment on the 12th in the John Mohawk thread till today, but given his lack of long comments in June so far it could simply be a lack of time or opportunity on his part.
Not sure if this is what Bulanik means but, it seems that on another discussion board, FG talks about being ‘multiracial myself’ in direct response to Bulanik. Almost as though he has taken that information from Bulaniks recent response to Cinnamondiva on here.
LikeLike
I used to have a couple of friends at college from asia, they were mixed, asian/white – either thai/white, filipino/white, chinese/white etc… It was always the same story… A white guy usually old, moves from europe to southeast asia and marries a local woman. Usually they live there send their kids to international schools and to university in the west somewhere. The kids for their part are stuck between 2 worlds, asian and white and it usually comes out that the white world represents the future and the asian represents backwardness, so they always have this inner battle, where they are trying to disown one half of their identity. It’s tough, I totally empathize. Their fathers have usually married multiple times, so they have family feuds about stuff like “when he dies, who will get the money”, that sort of thing…
Tough.
I have also observed other women of color dating white people and it is always the same story, at least according to my experience. At the beginning, they are charmed off their feet, the guy really does present this prince charming front.. Then when the relationship settles, he becomes a total control freak when the girl in question tries to act independently… A sibling of mine is in this situation, dating a white man who is a complete control freak. His enemies should be her enemies, she can’t go anywhere he doesn’t approve, if she fights back, he threatens her with blackmail like telling people private stuff about her… For her part, she breaks it off with him whenever he does that, then he comes and apologizes, then she forgives, then it starts off again…
I really do wonder if inter-racial couplings can work and be healthy given the huge divide between. Ignoring the issues doesn’t really solve the problem, both partners should be totally aware about the historic significance of racism and how it perpetuates itself in the modern world. There is no point in saying that we have evolved beyond racism, we haven’t.
My opinion someone tell me what they think of it,
In general a colored man usually gets with a white woman as a status kind of thing – due to wealth or success, the illusion of acquiring greater sexual pleasure etc.
In general a colored woman gets with a white man because of money, because she wants to elevate herself from her station which is weighed down by her color, she wants her kids to have access to a different world, a better world.
In the end, understanding between the 2 becomes irrelevant, both are in it for there own personal reasons.
LikeLike
Just watch this all the way to the end (8 minutes): Don’t make any judgements just yet..
Then watch this from the 3rd minute..
Now make some judgements…
What do you think?
LikeLike
@wilson
I really do wonder if inter-racial couplings can work and be healthy given the huge divide between. Ignoring the issues doesn’t really solve the problem, both partners should be totally aware about the historic significance of racism and how it perpetuates itself in the modern world. There is no point in saying that we have evolved beyond racism, we haven’t.
Bit confused here – I thought from the discussion on BM WW thread that you yourself were in or have been in IRR?
Anyway, in response to your question, I know several couples who are in IRR and have been for years. Hopefuly being togeher more than 15 years and still being together counts as working 🙂
In general a colored woman gets with a white man because of money, because she wants to elevate herself from her station which is weighed down by her color, she wants her kids to have access to a different world, a better world.
Wilson. A BW or a WoC goes with whomever they choose for a variety of reasons. I certainly do not see WM as a meal ticket – heck, for most of the White guys I dated growing up, I was the classiest female they had ever come across and the most aspirational. Some of them didnt have good jobs or backgrounds either – no bother to me, as long as you want to make something of yourself and not settle for being in a rut.
In the end, understanding between the 2 becomes irrelevant, both are in it for there own personal reasons.
Perhaps not totally untrue but very cynical.
LikeLike
@ Demeera,
I am not currently in an IRR relationship, was in… No longer. I just started thinking about the underlying dynamics recently… Before my thoughts were , “as long as I am attracted to someone” then that is all that matters… But, attraction is a funny thing, it’s a subconscious process and i’ve done a lot of reading that shows that usually the root causes of attraction are different from what we tell ourselves… As for love, I always ask myself, how can you love someone before you know them? If I walk up to a girl that i’ve only known briefly and ask her out, obviously that is fueled by attraction, not love since I hardly know her… Then what is causing that attraction in the first place? For me personally, I find asking myself this will hopefully mean that hearts don’t get broken down the line. I’ve been attracted to girls for the silliest reasons, e.g. hair style or how she looks in a dress, or how she laughs, usually by-passing who she actually is and usually I find that I am attracted to an idea of the person rather than the actual person…
So that’s why I asked, in a general sense if IRR actually work since in my view people rarely know each other, rather people have ideas about each other.. And knowing someone is also knowing about the context of there life. And I guess it depends on how you view relationships, I mean for some ppl yes, there is no need to know a person, it’s just about having fun then you move on, but if you want to build something that lasts, then I figure you both need to go to places you wouldn’t, you need to go beyond that superficial barrier.
In this blog, whites and colored ppl find it very hard to communicate honestly when it comes to the difficult issue of race… In real life, this communication hardly ever happens at all – if it does it is usually superficial. If you are in a relationship with someone, you belong to different races where one has been the aggressor historically speaking and you don’t deal with this issue, then to me, there is no real understanding between the 2 people – you are stuck on a superficial level. You can’t deny the context of the world you live in, you can suppress it but that doesn’t mean it goes away…
So I apologize if I come across as very cynical about IRRs, I guess my life is just characterized by people being superficial that it becomes hard to see that some have genuinely moved beyond that stage.
LikeLike
“Cinnamondiva
They don’t see themselves as “mixed” like me, because that would mean admitting African or Indian heritage and most of the Latinos in my neck of the woods don’t want to do that. They either cling to a white identity or they refer to themselves by nationality/country of origin, i.e., Cuban, Colombian, Dominican, etc.”
Linda says,
I know, I was making fun when I responded to your statement.
“Cinnamondiva@
I don’t think some folks understand that there are indeed very fair-skinned blacks/biracials who can pass for white or other races.”
Linda@
They do understand, they are called Hispanic/Latinos ”
Even though most Latinos will call themselves white, many white Americans don’t view them as white. That is what I meant with my response. Just like my cousins are ‘white’ in the Caribbean and elsewhere, their identity changes once they hit US shores.
Identifying by nationality is not a Latino thing, it’s common thing most immigrants do, even the European ones. In a place like South Florida (where I live), it’s more acceptable to identify by nationality first because it’s a large immigrant region. I typically identify myself as Jamaican first because it’s obvious I am ‘black/mixed’, so there is no need to mention it. Besides, to me, my culture identifys me more as a person than my supposed race.
but I agree, most Latinos (even the dark ones) would rather cut out their tongues than admit to having African or Native heritage, unless, it can be used in their advantage, like with Luis Suarez (soccer player for Uruguay) who got in trouble for calling a black French soccer player ‘negrito’.
Luis tried to defend himself by saying ‘he cannot be racist because his grandfather is black (mixed race actually). If it wasnt’ for this incident, wild horses probably couldn’t have pulled that information from his mouth.
http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/features/4153556/Luis-Suarezs-grandmother-reveals-she-used-to-call-him-Mi-Negrito.html
LikeLike
@ Linda…oh, OK. Sorry if I misunderstood your point.
@ Wilson…you make some very valid points and I agree with some of what you’re saying. But I will try to clear up some misconceptions.
While it is true that *some* BW see WM as a way to a better life and kids with lighter skin/”better” hair, I believe that most BW who are in serious committed relationships with WM do so because they love the person they’re with. I know WM/BW couples that have lasted 20, 30 years and they’re still happy.
I’ve been married to my husband for 4 years and we have no children, but we share a mutual love and respect for one another. Sure, he doesn’t always understand what my life is like as a woman who isn’t quite white OR black in the eyes of society. He doesn’t always understand my feelings on certain issues. And honestly, I can’t expect that of him because his experiences are different as a white male with white privilege. Most white people will never fully understand, IMO. But he does try to listen and learn and work through a lot of stuff. That is what matters to me. I couldn’t be with somebody who was just ignorant and smug and didn’t care or want to understand anything.
IRR can be successful and it can work, IMO, if the non-black partner is willing to have honest discussions about race and to examine their own privilege. I’m not talking about white guilt, because white guilt isn’t healthy or productive…it is something that hypocritical white liberals tend to engage in and it is patronizing. I’m talking about white people who are truly interested in meeting people of color halfway by educating themselves and really listening.
As to BM/WW relationships, I commented about that recently on another forum. From my perspective, several factors come into play with Black men and white women. Some Black men do indeed believe that white women are more adventurous sexually and they will do things that most Black women won’t. This is what I’ve heard. Some Black men have bought into the notion that being with a white woman or a white-identified Latina is a status symbol, as you mentioned. They don’t feel they’ve “arrived” until they can have that white trophy.
There is also the issue of how Eurocentric beauty standards have hurt women of color, including Black and mixed-race women. Some Black men have internalized the notion that whiter and lighter is always better and they shun or disrespect Black women, saying that non-black women are prettier and have better attitudes (even in cases where this isn’t true). Some of these women are also using the Black man for his sexual prowess (whether real or imagined) but they hold racist attitudes and on a subconscious level, they feel superior to the Black woman because they were chosen over her. I’ve encountered this attitude from some WW who are with Black men, especially if the man happens to be self-hating and the woman believes that she is “above” BW due to her whiteness.
Whereas I don’t think that most Black women who date or marry white men do so because of money or even status and other superficial stuff. Sometimes it happens, but I don’t believe that is generally the case. I could be wrong, though. The only thing is that I do know that some Black women want light-skinned children, especially daughters with “pretty” hair or light eyes, and I guess that could play into issues with colorism or notions about beauty. But I think that women with this mentality are in the minority.
And I believe that most white men who date or marry Black women truly do care for these women…it’s not just an experiment to them. They tend to value BW and see beauty in them. That’s just my perspective but it obviously doesn’t apply to all situations. There will always be exceptions and a man of any race or color can be a dick.
*Note…I’m not generalizing, just stating what I’ve noticed with some people. I hope I didn’t offend anyone.
LikeLike
@Demerera, Thank you for your kind advice as always. I am now working on the issue. Yes, he has been growing up with someone feeding the idea and information all along so it’s become habit.
@ Wilson when you said ” I used to have a couple of friends at college from asia, they were mixed, asian/white – either thai/white, filipino/white, chinese/white etc… It was always the same story… A white guy usually old, moves from europe to southeast asia and marries a local woman.”
Wilson, I am SE Asian with WH. My husband and I were born on the same year. I met him after I have applied for a permanent visa under skilled migration and got it well before we started going out. He was a bachelor before we met (never married, no kids). Both my parents are Medical school graduates and working hard for their children, all my siblings had been schooling in this country. We are not poor or in need to have WP to support us (as you might assume all people from Third world countries would be). It has been almost ten years and we’re still together in this relationship (of course there is a time when we have problems adjusting to each others but we do communicate a lot and about everything). If you were walking across the street and saw me and my husband walking together, would you still think “it was always the same story”? or what could be your other reasons? My husband doesn’t have any degree nor came from a well off family, and with all the exchange rates, my parents are able to assist me and him a home deposit in cash. Please don’t use a couple of your friends to stereotype the rest of the world.
and with regarding to this one
“I have also observed other women of color dating white people and it is always the same story, at least according to my experience. At the beginning, they are charmed off their feet, the guy really does present this prince charming front.. Then when the relationship settles, he becomes a total control freak when the girl in question tries to act independently… A sibling of mine is in this situation, dating a white man who is a complete control freak. His enemies should be her enemies, she can’t go anywhere he doesn’t approve, if she fights back, he threatens her with blackmail like telling people private stuff about her… For her part, she breaks it off with him whenever he does that, then he comes and apologizes, then she forgives, then it starts off again…”
I hope you’re not offended by what I am going to type. No, it’s not true. I have seen WOC kicked her WM butt. Don’t let me get into details about it.
LikeLike
@ iWonder,
Apologies… It appears I fell into the stereotyping hole based on my own personal experiences which is obviously not representative of the great diversity out there.
LikeLike
“Bulanik
This is principle of hidalgo. Uncontaminated and pure bloodied Spaniard, a noble Spaniard. This was the concept that bonded Christian to blood ties .
Of course this meant that those people of Semitic or African origins were bracketed as renegades, and their blood a pollutant to the true Spaniard.”
Thanks for the info Bulanik.
I often thought that the Spaniards walked into the new world with their deep-seated prejudices intact from the old world. Many Portuguese and Spanish Jews immigrated to Jamaica to escape the Spanish inquisition, like the reggae singer, Sean Paul’s family.
LikeLike
I’ve re-read the comments on this thread, and I wanted to thank everyone for their significant contributions regarding their experiences with white racism. We have so much more in common than we realize.
@ Abagond:
Are we allowed to post other earlier experiences with white racism?
For example, at age 9, I was invited or rather I was allowed to play with a white classmate at her house for a playdate. My white classmate announced she was thirsty and headed straight for the kitchen. Then she asked me if I was also thirsty, and I nodded, and she proceeded to get a glass cup out of the cupboard.
Her mother quickly flew into the kitchen and said, “No, no, no, use the styrofoam cups so I don’t have to wash the glass cups later.” She took the glass cup from her daughter’s hand and proceeded to fill it up with tap water and gave it to her. However, she searched for a styrofoam cup, filled it up, and handed it to me.
The daughter was surprised because she said to her mom, “But mom, I thought WE were going to use the styrofoam cups instead?”, but the mom just gave her this look as if to say, “Trust me, honey. I know what I’m doing.”
My inner gut was telling me that something wasn’t quite right with the whole scenario. Why I’m certain the mother gave out a sigh of relief when I threw the styrofoam cup in the garbage can.
LikeLike
Following these many rich testimonies above one cannot escape the conclusion that almost always the venom of racism is imposed to White children (sometimes almost babies!) by their parents.
This is a “good discovery” because it means that White children are not born evil: they learn from grownups to do this evil of racism (sometimes with some resistance). And it is good because it means we must not give up on humanity: maybe, someday an enlightened generation of White grownups decides to stop to transmit this disease to the next generation and creates the opportunity for a new saner world to grow.
But the bad news is that White adults have, somehow, found a reason, a powerful, addictive one, to indoctrinate their children in the ways of racism. It’s really sad to see adults turning small children into small demons! Very, very sad!
But what is the reason for that?
I find similarities in other class or caste situations, worldwide, where parents from well-to-do families teach their children to see themselves as better than children from poorer or not so wealthy families. They even go so far as to teach them to despise those other children and even adults who do not belong to a social milieu as high as theirs. A good example of this is the behaviour of higher caste people towards lower caste people or “untouchables” in today’s India (Asia). Another example, closer to home: how do you, middle class family/individual, teach your children when it comes to a “proper” behaviour towards lower class individuals? Do you teach them to treat those other people with equality, with humanism, with kindness? Or do you try to make sure that they know well what their social status is, and treat lower class people accordingly, “pushing them to their place”?
Behaviours are learned, be them good or bad. And if we are going to live in a class divided society I don’t see that we can avoid such class related issues.
Another point I would like to raise: it seems to me that black parents avoid speaking to their young children about issues of race. I mean, speaking, in plain language (English), not joking or making casual comments about it. As it appears, black families treat racism like a taboo. At the bottom of their heart, black parents hope that their offspring would not have to deal with racism as they grow, and by not thinking or speaking about it, racism would go away. This is truth in the Americas (North and South), Europe or Africa. And this plays in the racists’ hands because it does not prepare Black children to deal with issues of race, which they, inevitably, will face sooner or later in the course of their lives. Speaking openly to your children about the implications of being Black in a White society (or: White dominated world) could help prepare the Black individual to deal with racist situations when they occur and help diminish the negative psychological impact they could have on him/her.
This is truth also for Africans. One commenter at this tread, from Kenya, said that Africans see White people almost as semi-gods. And I would add: they look at Europe as kind of a paradise on Earth. Many Africans who migrate to European countries only understand how White societies really see Black people when they arrive there. How can it be, you can ask, when it was not long ago that Africans lived under colonial-racist rule? It is, because in African societies or families there is no frank discussion about Black/White relationships or the implications of being Black in the modern world. The individuals are left to themselves to discover that, oft with great pain.
munu aka Bantu
LikeLike
I can remember in the late 1960’s I was in elementary school riding the bus going home from school. I was chatting with this blond haired kid and he wanted to invite me to his birthday party. I told him, yes I would go. He told me I was invited but there was one problem? He told me to wipe the dirt off my face because his mother wouldn’t like it. I went home, ran straight to the bathroom and washed my face off with soap and water. My mother came in and seen what I was doing. She knew what was going on. Mothers know everything about their kids. So I told her what had happened and she sat me down and explained to me about the ways of White folks.
LikeLike
I remember in 1970 I had this 6th grade teacher who was very racist. The other teachers, even the White teachers didn’t like him. He would’nt allow me to participate in anything in class because I was Black. He would ignore me, blame me for something I didn’t do. He just couldn’t stand me. He would favor the White students, especially these two White girls. He was too friendly with them. Everyday I would come home upset and my mother would question me of what happened. I would tell her about this teacher and she would rush to the school to complained to the principle. I don’t know what my mother did, but they fired that teacher quick. 20 years later, this same teacher was charged with rapeing a White women.
LikeLike
I grew up listening to James brown singing, “Say it loud, I’m Black and I’m proud”. White people are trying their best to bring us down and to hate ourselves. Today’s young Black generation have no sense of Black pride. We can over come these racist bastards by saying to ourselves, I’m Black and I’m proud!! Yes, they (whites) will always be that way and they will never change. But we have to remind ourselves that we are beautiful people and we can’t let any race in the world make us feel that we aren’t human. They (whites) are mad because they can’t be like us. They try to mimick us especially young whites, but they can never be like us.
LikeLike
Walking in Marquette park and there was a klan march going on. Surrounded by nothing put other kids and few adults from our YMCA camp. We were 9 and younger and the other campers sourrounded me and my sister. I didn’t know what was going on at first I had never heard of the Klan. I didn’t know who they were but the names they were shouting and the pointing and yelling at the conselors was scary. We all knew that it meant trouble for me and my sister and I stood in front of my sister so she wouldn’t see she was five years younger than me. I told my friends just make sure my sister is safe it all was going to go wrong I was go to run and try making sure whoever they were they followed me. I could feel the nerves in my left foot shaking my arms were tingly. Yet, I knew I had to swallow down my cowardice and protect my sister no matter. Sorry, I can’t finish this one I haven’t thought about this one in a long time and it ended with them throwing rocks (I still can feel how scared I was and that has been a lifetime ago).
I couldn’t understand it but the Y apologized to my Mom and said they would look for a new place to take us kids. It was also the first time I really learned that I could run faster than adults. If it wasn’t for a conselor who got a hold of me I am not quite sure where I would be.
We kept going to the park but on some days we went to a smaller park, or even an emergency library trip. It was the last time I would see full klan activity. It just didn’t make sense to me. My mom was going to pull us out but I had friends and begged and the Y told her they would make sure it didn’t happen again. Today Marquette park looks nothing like itself in the early eighties little old white ladies don’t come out of their house just to yell the N- word at a passing child, having bottles thrown at our group, and not seeing another person of color seem in the past.(1980’s to early 90’s) Having my own child I know I have to be watchful now and really make sure he is in a safe area.
I had experience envy and as a kid I thought that was what the experience most felt like. Except there was no teacher going wow he’s a second grader and you guys are in fifth and knows it and you don’t. She could have just painted a target on me and that would have been easier.
LikeLike
@ biff
I deleted your comment because this thread is closed to self-identified whites.
LikeLike
Isn’t Biff white? I thought if a white person commented in this thread, he/she would be banned? Or is it only the people in the list above?
Anyway, I remember an incident when I was six years old. My family had just moved to a majority white area. I attended this new school and during recess, I was I was approached by these two little white girls. I was bouncing a ball minding my own business when they started talking to me. I introduced myself and they looked at each other and laughed at my name. They said it was a funny name. They mentioned they never saw anyone with eyes like mine before and they quickly pulled the corners of their eyes and started singing this stupid song. The words were:
Chinese (pulled the corner of their eyes straight across)
Japanese (pulled the corner of their eyes straight down)
Dirty knees (pretended to dust dirt of their knees)
Look at these (pulled one corner of their eye up and pulled the other corner down)
At the time, I didn’t know Asians were mocked by their eyes. Pretty much everyone in my family had large, double-lidded eyes except for me. Of course, I felt my hot tears falling down my cheeks because I thought these girls were so terrible. I said nothing as I’ve never experienced anything like that before. The two white girls walked away laughing at me as if what they did was the funniest thing in the world. Back then, I wondered who taught them that garbage. Was it other white kids or their parents?
During my time at that elementary school, my eyes were mocked by white children. Mind you, not every time, but the the times they did it, I felt really ugly. I even begged my mom for eyelid surgery. Did you know I learned about eyelid surgery on tv? Yeah, for droopy lids, though, and I thought my lids were droopy. Heck, what did I know? I was just a kid. Anyhow, I’m just so blessed my mom was there to put a stop to that nonsense and she made me realize I was beautiful the way I was because God didn’t make mistakes. Even when these kids still tried to make fun of me, I managed to stick up for myself. It amazes me I remembered all that.
LikeLike
My first racist experience was when I just arrived in morroco. As a subsaharian black guy coming for studies, I heard a lot about racism in Arab countries but I didn’t really thought that this would be deeply present in there. I’ve experienced people calling me in the street the N word a lot of time, and also been stared at by women. I Think it’s pretty sad that people judge and hate by the skin color. Of course not everyone there was like that particularly some of my classmates were pretty nice to me. I think we need to learn from each other instead of taking everything that is different from you as bad.
LikeLike