Racism

It is no longer amazing how the media can bring something into the forefront of every home but almost expected. I’m now listening to our president talk about how he could have been the teen that was shot for being in the wrong neighborhood at the wrong time. I was also listening to a talk show on Public Radio that focused on an affluent African American mom that is an attorney that had recently taken her daughter on a trip to Europe. The focus of the discussion was how she went out of her way not to act in the perceived sense that most view her racial group. She was quick to admit that she made sure that both her dress and speech exceeded the expectations of any around her. She was fearful that she and her daughter would be mistreated.

I was raised for the most part in a ‘color blind’ context where my parents didn’t make anything of racial differences. I attended schools that were mixed racially and didn’t think much of it. I wasn’t told by anyone that I was better than someone else because of my skin color or the fact that my dad was an officer. It wasn’t until I was 7 years old and visiting my grandma, she lived in St. Louis, that I was instructed about the N word and how everyone in this people group were bad. I was totally clueless and asked my dad what grandma was talking about. I can remember my dad coming unglued and taking grandma to task for what she had said.

I remember being at my other grandma’s house where I was instructed more about race issues not by what she said but through her actions. We had left my other grandma’s flat and arrived at my dad’s mom’s house. It was an older house that had a large front yard that had a series of steps that went up to the front door and porch of the house. I can remember hearing my great uncle saying something to a man that was out front ‘relieving’ himself in the front yard. It was seconds later that grandma’s dog was sent out to the front to get the man to leave, which he did rather quickly. My uncle screamed something out that clearly included the N word.

I will always remember my dad’s perspective on what I had experienced in St. Louis during that one vacation. He explained to me that he had grown up in a very racially tense neighborhood that had changed significantly over his life and he wanted me to never judge a person because of the color of their skin, their education, their job or their possessions. I appreciated my dad’s view on life but was still confused as to why most of my relatives were racists. Later in life when I would visit I would be warned about traveling in certain sections of St. Louis that were considered to be dangerous for whites to drive through ‘colored’ sections of St. Louis. I typically didn’t pay much attention to their advice.

Yes, I grew up in the 60’s and had some exposure to the civil rights movement, JFK, men on the moon, the Cuban missile crisis and the assignations of MLK and JFK. I have lived the last 7 years intentionally in a racially diverse neighborhood and have come to better understand some of the heartache that exists between different ethnic groups. I understand the importance of understanding another person’s culture and language and not assume that they are going to cater to my biases. The reality that I have to admit and confront is that too often my middle class educated white background totally blinds me to the culture of both the Hispanic and African American community. I know that if I walk into a room where I’m the minority that it is too easy for me at times to believe that I’m the one with the smarts or better leadership potential. I have to confess this and repent by choosing to let others be in the forefront of leadership, even if it means that I don’t get what I want.

What I’m learning over the last decade of my life with my involvement with both Habitat for Humanity, living and working in a diverse community is that I have to be better at learning about those that are my neighbors by being with them as they live, play, work, worship and have an interest in the legacy of their culture. I know that as I choose to be around both young kids and teens in my neighborhood that they look at me as being the odd ball. I know that some of my kids have grown up with parents that are part of gangs, some with dads in prison, and others that have been birthed into generational poverty and others where education isn’t valued in contrast to getting a job. Most are being raised without dads by either single moms or grandmas.

I know that the harsh reality for many of my teens is that they aren’t going to get a job because they don’t speak well or have a clue about how to dress to position themselves to get hired. I explained that many employers are racist and don’t want to hire someone outside of their own cultural group. The challenge is that you have to be better prepared and ready to interview. I do have a few that will get scholarships to Harvard, Stanford or Yale not because of their racial background but their GPAs and volunteerism.

I know that life isn’t fair and that racial, religious, educational and socio-economic differences and similarities will both draw people together and also separate them. My hope is to help build bridges between different people groups to help everyone see that we can learn from each other and ultimately live around each other and be more able to love those that are different.