Narrow Mind, Big Mouth

I’ve struggled to write this for over a week now. I was originally working on a mid-year update of my 36 Resolutions & Goals for 2011, laughing at my progress and the balls I have to detail how little I’ve actually accomplished. But something disturbing took place last week, and while some would choose to ignore it or keep it a dirty little secret, I’ve decided that full disclosure is the most cathartic. Last Wednesday, one of my brothers received a hate filled email from another family member. The email arrived out of the blue. But it didn’t say “Hey, how are you…”—instead it was cruel, unfair, and unfounded—a veritable electronic bitch-slap. It was bad enough that it was so unkind and hateful towards my brother, but there was an additional element: it referred to the man living at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in a loathsome, bigoted, ignorant manner. I refuse to share his exact terminology, but use your imagination and be sure: it smacked of racism.  I’m not sure why my brother is single-handedly responsible for who occupies the White House, but it’s an interesting and twisted idea.   

~ If only closed minds came with closed mouths  ~ 

My brother, the recipient of the email, reacted as people often do when they are blind-sided. He was shocked and hurt. And then he shared it. When I read the email, I was completely sick to my stomach. The hideousness of it forced me to face something that perhaps I long suspected but didn’t want to admit: there is a bigot among us. I hate to think about it, but I won’t ignore it, I won’t pretend. I may have the same DNA as this prejudiced soul, but I’m ashamed of him. If I found myself in his company and heard the garbage coming out of his mouth, I wouldn’t know what to do: rake him over the coals or walk away in shame before anyone realized we were related.  My mother?  She’d wash his mouth out with soap.

I am adamantly intolerant of prejudice—and my intolerance is something that would be leveled against me by right-thinkers as evidence that liberals aren’t as tolerant as they claim. Well of course, that argument is bullshit. Some people will ask me why I would even write about this. To that I ask, why the hell not? I’ve talked to many people about this in the past week and they all say the same thing: that he is a relative is not enough reason to shy away from the despicable subject of racism. Being quiet in the name of loyalty or pride is cowardly and serves only to protect the offender and perpetrate further hate. Being quiet is what people do when they are not interested, concerned or bothered enough. Being quiet is just not an option. Given that he’s vocal about his views, it really shouldn’t come as a surprise anyway.  The racist email is his own self-created dirt and defines him, not anybody else.

The email was sent without provocation. It was short, not sweet, and cut right to the chase. It was the absolute opposite of productive and reeked of good old-fashioned bigotry. To say that we all have a right to our opinions—that’s just not enough. I’m a firm believer in speaking up and voicing my opinion, and I will always stand by what I say. We are all allowed that right, but please and thank you, don’t spew garbage based on irrational opinions. That people continue to behave this way is unbelievable to me. If it isn’t based on race, it’s sexual orientation, religion, socio-economic status or some other preposterous reason. It’s a testament to how ignorant, base and foul some people continue to be. Granted the freedom of speech, these flag waving Americans espouse some of the ugliest name-calling and conduct imaginable. I’ve often looked at people like this and asked, “Your mommy and daddy didn’t do a very good job with you, did they?”—to which I am generally met with an unintelligible “huh” or “what do you mean?” They don’t seem to realize how they sound…or, maybe they do. Maybe that’s part of the game, to say provocative, hateful things and play dumb. Because playing dumb would offer an excuse, albeit a weak one, behind which a cowardly person could hide. And then I have to pause because some parents did fantastic jobs with their kids…and still end up with bigots, wondering how the hell it happened.

Certainly there are people who are raised in homes where prejudice is the norm; where it’s okay, even hilarious, to make disparaging remarks to and about minorities; where intolerance is deep-rooted and expected and taught by word and deeds. These hateful behaviors are shared and learned often before the ABCs & 123s, or tying shoelaces. These are quite possibly the homes that equate acceptance and tolerance with weakness, and attribute all of the woes of the world to the liberal ideas and actions of sissies and queers, k***s and n*****s. The words of these hate-mongers gush out, accompanied by spittle, cussing and red-faced rants. The more god-fearing types end a tirade with “in Jesus’ name” or throw in a quote from the Bible, citing chapter and verse and leaving me slack-jawed and wondering, WTF?

There are others who lash out and spew their garbage because sadly, they lack anything of substance or intelligence. It must be tough to find oneself in a totally unfamiliar world, suddenly rubbing elbows with people with wits—people who read and write, or are somewhat open-minded and educated, people who see value in others no matter what race, religion or orientation. My feeling is that bigots—whether they come from a long line of prejudiced ascendants or have recently acquired this baseless disdain for others—my opinion is that these bigots are simply not keen-minded or intelligent enough to make it through life without deflecting attention from their own short-comings. Unable to match wits or keep up with normal, everyday conversation or ideas, these nit-wits revert to the simplest and most simple-minded solution: they target the person, his color, religion, etc. Reverting to schoolyard tactics, the juvenile, bully-type behavior is unsophisticated and doesn’t require reflection or brains. It serves only to highlight the propensity of ignorant people to also be lazy and unwilling to participate in thoughtful discourse of things that matter. And sadly-or somewhat surprisingly-many bigots are ‘well-educated’ professionals. The prejudiced email writer? He’s a teacher and I imagine he is well respected among his peers, students and social circles. But he is also incredibly ignorant. I imagine that these biases leak out to his students and his own children, maybe even his fellow church-goers. It may just be a matter of time before one of the lowly infiltrates his Caucasian haven and puts him in his place. Short of that, I don’t imagine much chance of change.

The way I see it, when one is approaching the mid-forties, it’s probably too much to hope for major character improvements. I didn’t know him to be bigoted when we were younger, so somewhere along the way he changed. Chances are though, these changes will stick and this is how he’ll remain. So where did this hatefulness come from? He wasn’t raised to behave this way. Our hometown did not have a large black population but we had a few black friends over the years. We have black family members: I wonder if our miscegenation causes discomfort…it’s so very close to home. To think that my nephews and niece might have read what was written—it makes me sick.  Today, some of the most fantastically beautiful, kind, sincere and loving men and women I know are black…and if I were to describe them individually, black would not be the first thing I’d say.

I was almost eight years old the summer of 1974, and I spent my days much like most of the other kids we knew. It was still somewhat safe for kids to be out on their own, riding bikes without helmets or shoes, paying no attention to traffic laws, stopping at home only for lunch, and being reminded to be home when the street lights came on. Late one afternoon, my sister and I rode our bikes to Sav-On drug store. We parked our bikes in the rack outside the door and went inside. There isn’t much I remember about that day up until that time—it was not unusual or special or momentous. It was just another summer day. That is, of course, until we came out of the store to find a small group of boys hanging out by the bike rack. They were about the same age as we were, maybe a little older. And they were black. There was a hose attached to a faucet alongside a planter, and one of the boys was spraying our bikes with water. We tried to get our bikes but couldn’t. Words were exchanged. And boldly, out of nowhere, I called the boy with the hose the N word.

Where it came from, I’ll never know. I didn’t learn it at home. I’d never said it before. I honestly didn’t even know what it meant. But I knew it sounded bad and I imagine I must have thought that it would be enough to make the boy stop. And oh, it was effective. As soon as I said it, his face changed and he forgot all about soaking our bikes. The group of boys was immediately pissed off. My sister and I ran. We had no idea where we were going but we knew we were screwed. Running into the grocery store, we tried to blend in; in my panic and fear, I grabbed a cauliflower from the produce department and cut into a line. We saw the boys come through the door looking for us. When they spotted us they came towards us, and the boy that I offended? He walked right up to me and in the middle of the crowded store, he punched me in the face. I completely deserved it. We left our bikes in the rack and half-walked, half-ran home. Along the way we made up a story about the red welt below my eye. I absolutely knew without a doubt that if my mother knew what I had said, I would be facing very serious consequences. But I’d already learned my lesson and I never used that name again.

Vile and unfounded aggression and bigotry is just one ugly aspect of human nature. It’s hateful, unkind, and without substance or merit. I dare say it’s unchristian, or at the very least, the antithesis of The Golden Rule. I don’t expect to ever understand why people are this way, but I know I will never tolerate it. Not from a stranger. Not from a friend. And certainly not from a relative.