Niggers

Some title, huh? And exactly what thought does that provoke in you? I'm a white guy. Does it make you think, "Damn...what a racist!" Or does it make you feel uncomfortable reading it? I won't lie...it's not the most comfortable word to write. It's a word with a more unique history than most any other in the English language. And it's not a good one.
Well, you can breathe a sigh of relief; this isn't about the word. It's about racism, and more specifically, my views on it. And I'm not a racist...far from it. In fact, I'm about as staunch a supporter of racial equality as you'll find, especially for a white guy, apparently.
I was raised in Florida...mainly in Central Florida, in a fairly small town called DeLand. I moved there when I was 9, and didn't leave until I was 21. The real core of who I am grew from my experiences in that town. DeLand is kind of a redneck town, and was moreso when I got there. My neighbors across the street were pretty redneck, I'd say. And good kids...but a bit susceptible to the common racial thoughts of the early 1980s in a place like that. Have we come a long way since 1980? I think so. But then, I'm sure there's a lot further to go for some people.
My parents raised us without any racial bigotry. They were, in fact, godparents to a child born to a couple they were friends with who were from Africa. I remember them well. Good people. College professors, as I recall...or at least one of them...and really good people.
I'll never forget the first time I heard the word, "nigger". It's a story I've told often, because I feel that it's profound, in its own way...and a testament to the good job my parents did at raising us to be decent people. I was outside with the guy across the street who was my age. We had so much fun playing football and such. I remember the time I first dipped snuff with him...and how sick I was. To this day, the smell of wintergreen doesn't sit too well with me...and it was my favorite candy before that. Anyway, we were outside, the two of us, and suddenly, he looked down the road.
"Here comes a nigger," he said, like it was a big deal.
"Where?", I asked, looking where he was looking.
"Right there! Heading this way!", he exclaimed.
Surveying the scene, I said, "All I see is that black kid walking up the street...is it with him?"
My friend was shocked. He realized that I didn't know what a nigger was. He made fun of me a bit, and I tried to play it off to be cool, and act as if I just didn't understand what he meant or something.
Well, my curiosity had been piqued a bit. What was this thing he was talking about? So I went home later that afternoon, and asked my mother about it.
"Hey, mom", I asked. "What's a nigger?"
Worst beating I ever got. Back then, you could still punish a kid with a spanking - something we've lost in this nation, as we commit what I call "The Pussification of America" - and I sure got punished. Then my dad came home, and I got it again...worse. I was told you don't ever, ever use that word, under any circumstances.
I feel that it's profound, in a way. And maybe it's not. The fact that I was 12 years old before I'd ever heard the word is something I look back on with a bit of pride. I guess that's why we weren't allowed to see Roots on TV...I knew it was because of language...I just never knew what language it was.

So, do I make fun of black people? Sure. They talk differently. They look differently. They have different cultural values. Would I ever not hire one, or not sit next to one, hug one...would I ever treat a black person different than I do a white one? Shit, I hope not. I sure try not to. I think black people are different...but that's not a bad thing...it's just a thing.
I think they're better at sports than we are. That's just how it goes. And I think it's great. I love sports...and most of my favorite players are players of color. Even my favorite hockey player, Jarome Iginla, happens to be half black.
You know something I learned growing up? Black people have a stronger sense of community than white people do. I think it's something to be envied, emulated and respected. When I was working at a grocery store in DeLand, I'd see white people come in all day. They come in, keep to themselves, get their stuff and go. Black people did the same thing...but if another black person was there, they'd say hello to each other. Seemed like they always knew each other, too. And I know the stereotype of them all knowing one another is ridiculous sounding...but it seemed that way. But I couldn't make fun of it. I thought it was great. It seemed like if you were black, no matter where you went, you weren't alone. I liked that. I still do.
In the gifted program, which I was in almost the entire time I lived in DeLand, there were only a few black people in my year. Edward, Arnold, Carlton, Sherman, Lyrae and Cantrece. Those are the 6...of about 40 of us, give or take. Never once was any of them anything but excellent to me. I was fairly good acquaintances with Cantrece and Edward, who dated for a while in high school, too. Arnold, Carlton and Sherman were all cousins...and seemed to always be together...and were three of the nicest guys you'd ever want to meet. I keep in touch with Sherman and Lyrae on Facebook a bit. Lyrae isn't just some gal from DeLand, either. Go to Google, and just type in Lyrae. The first thing that comes up in the suggested searches is Lyrae Van Clief-Stefanon. Check her out. She's a published author and a poetry professor at Cornell. And yes...it's the same Lyrae I grew up with. Her story's a bit remarkable, and one I didn't really know a lot about at the time. I really regret that now. But I have more respect for her than she'd imagine. She's the most successful person from our class, if you ask me. And others agree.
In fifth grade, my first year in DeLand, I had a teacher named Linda Simmons. She had a great impact on my life, and was one of the chief role models and influences through all my school days. Teachers can be really great influences...and she was the best one, without question. She was black.
Going back further, I was in gifted in Ft. Lauderdale, too. Back then - 1975 or so - you had to be in fifth grade to be in the gifted program. Well, as I was about to start kindergarten in 1975-76, they'd tested me for the program. And I was considered very, very eligible. I don't like to get into specifics, because that's the one thing I really keep private. Things like my I.Q. and reading level when I started school. People treat you differently when they know things like that, sometimes. But my parents wanted to get me into the gifted program. The school board said no. So they got a teacher to help, and to intervene on my behalf. Mrs. Simmons reminded me - and my parents a lot of that woman who tried to get me to be the first in Broward county to get into the program so early. And it worked...they changed the rule for me. A few others were right behind me, and the floodgates opened. That woman's name is one I won't ever forget, either: Kha (pronounced like "Kay") Dennard.
When I played baseball, I played with some black guys. I was about 13 or 14 when I had a big pool party at our house. It was for my birthday, and I was allowed to invite whomever I wanted. I invited 3 of my closest friends...and a bunch of guys from baseball. Most of those guys from baseball were black. I remember being in my room, getting changed to go swimming, and one of my white friends asking me why there were so many - I think he said "jigaboos" - at my party. I told him: "Because they're my friends, too. Why wouldn't I invite them?" He didn't say anything else about it...but he was always a bit of a closet racist. He outgrew it eventually, to some extent at least...as far as I knew, anyway.
That's something I've always noticed, too. White people think it's OK to say whatever you want about another race, as long as you're saying it only to other white people. I do it, too. I jokingly use the word "nigger" sometimes. Not to cast aspersions at black people...but mainly to sort of poke fun at myself, if that makes any sense. I kind of catch myself doing it and usually curtail it when I think I'm doing it to the point it might be taken wrong. But to me, it's just a word...and the less power anyone gives it, the less powerful it is.
I think if you really want to read a great book about race relations in this country, read "Race Matters", by Dr. Cornel West. It's fantastic. It came out in 1994, but it's still very relevant today, in my opinion. He's sure a great guy, and I absolutely LOVE it when he's on Real Time With Bill Maher. Those are episodes I just won't miss.
In short, I am very thankful for the black people that have been in my life. I can't stress enough how huge an impact they've all had on my life, especially those 6 I went to school with. They'd be surprised, I'm sure...a bit taken aback. They'd say something like, "We didn't treat you specially. We just went to school and were ourselves." To which I'd say: exactly! And that's something I could never thank you enough for. I was able to see that all the horseshit that some white people would have you believe is just that: horseshit. People are people are people. And yes, we're different. And yes, I have no problem if they make fun of me. I make fun of big noses, big lips...whatever. And they can make fun of my nerdy-sounding speech patterns, lack of dance ability, naivete about urban culture...whatever. Making fun of things that are different is normal. Discriminating because of them is not. And that's something I never do. I think that we should embrace our differences...and sometimes making fun of them is the way to do that. It's a form of flattery, perhaps. But it's not the end of the world.
So I hope that if someone reads this, they'll think about what's "really" going on. Religion is a lie. I covered that in the last blog. But so is any rationale for racial discrimination. There's just no reason for it. I wish the word "nigger" and all the conotations associated with it wasn't around. But to me, it's a stark reminder of just how ignorant and ridiculous people can be. We've come a long way, as I've said...but now, Arabs are the latest "niggers". And the Japanese spent their time as "niggers", too. Makes me sick to think about all those injustices of the past, present and future. But all I have to do is think back to my own experiences with black people...to Lyrae, Sherman, Cantrece, Edward, Carlton and Arnold...and all the others...and I feel better again. The truth is, I'm still looking down that street...still not sure what a nigger is...I've yet to see one...all I see is a black person walking towards me...and I feel good about it.