I have seen it with my own eyes and heard it with my own
ears and I pretty much know where it happens (everywhere) and when it happens
(all of the time) and to some extent I know why it happens (someone claims superiority
over someone else), but the origins of it still escape me and probably always
will. I don’t know who started it or what they intended to accomplish. I can’t
identify the first racist or explain why he or she looked at another person, called
him a derogatory name, took him into slavery and started beating him with whips.
If you know, please feel free to share.
This being the internet age, of course, you can google “the
origins of racism” and read entry after entry until your eyes start to bleed.
There are plenty of words written on the subject, but after reading all of them
you still may not find the answer to why racism exists in your particular universe.
You will find
terms like “ethnocentrism,” “tribalism” and “proto-racism” and stories about the
Greeks and their slaves and a lot of other philosophical concepts that are
beyond my meager ability to comprehend, but in the real world, in 2018 in the
United States of America, I’m still not sure why some stupid backwoods white
person with five omni-directional teeth, no job, a fourth grade education and
zero critical thinking skills can look at someone like Barack Obama or Michael
Bloomberg or any African American or
Jew and think, “I’m better’n ’ey are.”
Or why someone goes to a supermarket and shoots two black
people he doesn’t know just for the hell of it, or why a guy walks into a synagogue
and murders 11 elderly Jews, most of whom were too old to even run away.
For the record, Wikipedia says racism stems from the idea
that “humans can be subdivided into distinct groups that are different due to
their social behavior and their innate capacities as well as the idea that they
can be ranked as inferior or superior.” Historical examples of
institutional racism include the Holocaust, the apartheid regime in South
Africa and slavery in America, it says.
So yeah, I get all of that, but I can better relate to what
I’ve seen for myself, up close and personal, such as these few examples from my
own life:
* In the mid-1970s, when I was a reporter in Parkersburg, West
Virginia, I went with two other reporters to investigate a complaint that a
private club was refusing to admit African Americans. When we got there, two of
us (the Anglo-looking white guys) were admitted without question but our other
friend, a Jew whose last name ended in “-stein,” was refused.
* Another time in the 1970s, an African American friend of
mine was denied entry into a Charleston, West Virginia, nightclub, but the five
white people who were with him – including me – were told we were welcome to
come on in. Instead, we all left together.
* Some years later, at my daughter’s wedding reception, a
bartender refused to serve one of her guests – an African American man – telling
me it was “against club policy” to even let him into the bar. When I told her I wasn’t going to pay for the reception, as I recall, my friend got his drink.
Full disclosure: Throughout my younger years, I lived in an
all-white neighborhood, had all-white friends and went to mostly all-white
schools. One of them, ironically, was even named White School. The only people
of color I knew were one black student in one of my classes and the woman who cleaned
our house. (I don't remember if I knew any Jews.) If that amounts to “white privilege,” then I guess I had my share.
It wasn’t until junior high when several of the city’s
elementary schools were merged into one that I began to meet, socialize with
and get to know a few people who were racially and ethnically different from
myself. Later, when I was in college, I worked in a supermarket where the students hired as cashiers
and bag boys were a diverse blend of men and women, whites and blacks and people
of various ethnicities and maybe even sexual preferences. We all became good
friends, and looking back, I realize the hiring practices of that particular store
were way ahead of their time.
The point is, I’ve been fortunate enough to associate with
people of varying stripes in schools and in my various jobs since I was roughly
12 years old. I say “fortunate” because once I got out of the all-white bubble,
I learned that people are either good or bad or smart or dumb or friendly or
cold or happy or sad because of who they are, without regard to the color of
their skin or the church they choose to attend.
I suspect that the supermarket shooter and the synagogue
murderer and all of the other racists and bigots and white supremacists have
never spent five minutes actually talking to people who look different than
they do to find out who they are or what they think or what they want out of
their lives. If they had, they might have found out they weren’t so different
after all. (Or maybe not.)
I have said frequently that the most dangerous racists are
the ones who don’t know they’re racists or try to deny it, like the people who
say “I have black friends” as though it excuses their racist behavior. On the
other hand, show me a guy wearing a white sheet and hood and I may be repulsed
by him, but at least I know that he
knows what he is and he’s being up front about it, for whatever that is worth.
I see the white man who kills blacks or Jews because he
hates them and I know what he is, too.
The problem is, I still don’t know exactly why
he is what he is or how he got to be that way…or what anyone can do to fix it,
because chances are, he doesn’t know how he got that way either.
Maybe he just did.

