My life as a racist

Undertoad · 08-22-2003, 10:13 AM

That "early silliness" thread is a great one. I would like to hear more personal stories about how we come to think the way we think.

From age 5 through age 11, I had two different best friends, and they were both black. (I'm white.) I lived in a neighborhood so integrated that one area racist described it as "checkerboard squares". This was the mid 70s, and race was the broiling issue in the country. Everyone was trying to deal with it. Nobody knew how to act.

At age 13 one of my white friends turned racist, copying his totally racist dad. And while deeply in my soul I knew it was totally wrong, for a while I played with the idea myself. I wrote a long essay for one class that was standard racism, invoking every single stereotype. I showed it to my racist friends to gain favor with them.

My whole life to that point had been color-blind. I didn't even realize that there was racism in the world. I knew people were enemies, but I didn't know why. My dark-skinned buddies were not different from me in any way that I could tell. But at that tender, early age, filled with confusion and the loss of innocence, frightened of nerdy loneliness, the call of any social connection was strong. And so, for a few months I was kinda sorta in the racist crowd.

The friendships with these guys broke down pretty fast, for other reasons. When it did, the racism that I had found within myself somehow became more visible to me, and I regretted it terribly.

At almost that moment, my mom got remarried to a guy who had an arts grant to live in northern England and compose music there. I was suddenly uprooted from this neighborhood where race was a huge and terrible issue... and placed into a society where everyone was white. But there was a difference: *I* was suddenly a minority of one, the "yank".

Being that kind of minority at that tender age, I did everything I could to bear it proudly. But to a lot of people, I was an offense without having done anything. As quickly as possible, I learned the accent and words and approach to completely pass as a local.

In the space of a short time of adolescence, I experienced being the oppressive hateful majority, and being the oppressed hated minority. Those lessons will stick with me forever.

Were you ever a racist? Were you ever oppressed? What did you experience as a kid that made you what you are today?

08-22-2003, 10:13 AM	#1
Undertoad Radical Centrist Join Date: Jan 2001 Location: Cottage of Prussia Posts: 31,423	My life as a racist That "early silliness" thread is a great one. I would like to hear more personal stories about how we come to think the way we think. From age 5 through age 11, I had two different best friends, and they were both black. (I'm white.) I lived in a neighborhood so integrated that one area racist described it as "checkerboard squares". This was the mid 70s, and race was the broiling issue in the country. Everyone was trying to deal with it. Nobody knew how to act. At age 13 one of my white friends turned racist, copying his totally racist dad. And while deeply in my soul I knew it was totally wrong, for a while I played with the idea myself. I wrote a long essay for one class that was standard racism, invoking every single stereotype. I showed it to my racist friends to gain favor with them. My whole life to that point had been color-blind. I didn't even realize that there was racism in the world. I knew people were enemies, but I didn't know why. My dark-skinned buddies were not different from me in any way that I could tell. But at that tender, early age, filled with confusion and the loss of innocence, frightened of nerdy loneliness, the call of any social connection was strong. And so, for a few months I was kinda sorta in the racist crowd. The friendships with these guys broke down pretty fast, for other reasons. When it did, the racism that I had found within myself somehow became more visible to me, and I regretted it terribly. At almost that moment, my mom got remarried to a guy who had an arts grant to live in northern England and compose music there. I was suddenly uprooted from this neighborhood where race was a huge and terrible issue... and placed into a society where everyone was white. But there was a difference: I was suddenly a minority of one, the "yank". Being that kind of minority at that tender age, I did everything I could to bear it proudly. But to a lot of people, I was an offense without having done anything. As quickly as possible, I learned the accent and words and approach to completely pass as a local. In the space of a short time of adolescence, I experienced being the oppressive hateful majority, and being the oppressed hated minority. Those lessons will stick with me forever. Were you ever a racist? Were you ever oppressed? What did you experience as a kid that made you what you are today?

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