We all know the saying “fear breeds hatred”, the implication being that fear is the foundation on which prejudice is built. As I get a little older and continue to reflect inwardly, I find that my limited experience with black people has often been laced with several distinct road blocks which I have no doubt are prevalent within white society today.

The most obvious seem to be lack of exposure and ignorance. Having spent the majority of my life steeped in white, middle-class suburbia, I find that when I do come into contact with black people who don’t share my background, education, etcetera, I quite often lack my usual self-confidence. Something inside me tightens up and suddenly, I feel like I’m walking in a minefield. As awful as it is to recognize and admit, I get a little afraid. I am afraid that I’ll make a mistake and, race still being such a touchy subject, look foolish (or worse, inadvertently insult someone). I’m afraid I’ll be discovered as the white-bread, middle-aged tight ass I fear I have become. Most disappointingly, I am afraid of violence.

Part of my problem is the tough guy/street persona that so many black, Hispanic and (embarrassingly) affluent white young adults have chosen to ground the identity of their generation in. With all the movies, documentaries, music videos, stereotypes and caricatures defining our culture today, I fear that, socially at least, I have no “feel” at all when it comes to understanding those who intellectually I know to be not very different from me.

An illustration of this would be the recent TV commercial for an upcoming jazz festival. In the commercial a group of “street tough” looking young men are driving along in a convertible listening to light jazz and enjoying the day. When they suddenly spot a wimpy looking white guy waiting to cross at a stop sign they are approaching, they switch their music to gangster rap and throw attitude and dangerous looks at the completely intimidated man. Once they pass the intersection, one of them proclaims “clear” and they switch back to the jazz and the happy feelings it supposedly invokes. Hilarious! I died laughing when I first saw it. But upon reflection, I recognized what a poignant commentary this was on one of the great divides existing between blacks and whites today. What makes it funny is the reality that it’s steeped in. What makes it so sad is the truth it conveys about the barriers on both sides, which our culture currently propagates on a mass scale. I also recognized that to some extent, I am that intimidated white guy, standing on a corner unsure of what to expect.

Clearly, I don’t speak the language of today’s urban black culture. Though it’s all English, words and phrases hold different meanings, and gestures and postures are often completely foreign—all of which makes social interaction all the more difficult. When you combine that with an already heightened sense of displacement and a dash of white guilt, you wind up with people who find it easier to shy away from diversity than challenge their fears.

Some might say that I’m not supposed to, that I am already too old, too out of touch, too white to bridge many of the gaps our divergent lives present us. I hope that isn’t the case. If we as a society are ever going to complete the process of true equality among the races in this country, one of the steps we need to take is making ourselves more accessible to each other. This doesn’t mean releasing or diluting our different cultures, but it does mean that on all sides of the table we need to recognize and highlight ways in which we keep ourselves apart and do the work necessary to bridge those gaps.

So I’m looking for avenues to explore, ideas and suggestions on some of the better activities where one can show up, participate and get to better know his fellow man.

Respectfully,
Show Me the Way

Dear Show Me the Way:

Thanks for the thoughtful, well-written letter. In fact, it’s so thoughtful and well-written that I ran the whole thing, without cutting a word for brevity.

My only problem is that your question left me little room for an equally thoughtful response, at least in a single short column. So I’ll do what I can here and continue next issue.

First, the very fact that you asked the question is a big step. I’d guess many white people have similar thoughts and feelings but are too afraid, apathetic or arrogant to ask a person of the… er, uh, shall we say “colored” persuasion for an answer. You’ve already expressed rationales for their fears better than lil’ ol’ RaceMan ever could, so I’ll tackle apathy and arrogance.

Many white people seem to believe racism isn’t enough of an issue these days to worry about. They suffer from what I call PMR (Post Millennial Racism). Unlike over-the-top, kick-ass, red-necked OMR (Old Millennial Racism), the new-fangled brand is subtle, colorless, odorless and mostly hidden behind sympathetic smiles, politically correct diversity pledges and Black History Month PR campaigns.

But the new stuff is more difficult to detect…and much more resistant to mass marches and “I have a dream” speeches. Many whites (and even some blacks) like to believe that even talking about race and racism is passé… so, so, “Second Millennial”. But deep down inside, they know better. Deep down, they feel the same tightening of the stomach that you feel. But unlike you, they’ve talked themselves into ignoring the nagging pain, much like we try to ignore the first signs of a toothache or a coming cold. The results may prove to be as damaging to our nation’s future as racism itself. Since Reconstruction, after Abe freed the slaves and America abandoned them, virtually all American leaders have tried their best to whistle past the graveyard of our nation’s white supremacist and slave-based founding. With few exceptions, our “leaders” have only even acknowledged the problem when forced to do so by events and/or relatively small groups of determined individuals.

But I’m out of space. If you still have the stomach for some unpleasant truths, see you next issue…

RaceMan

askraceman@yahoo.com