There is a meme I put on my Pinterest.
Underneath I wrote “and looked what happened to them…” That means, they were overtaken by a foreign culture and their way of life was obliterated. This poster supports tighter immigration laws, even if it doesn’t mean too.
A woman said I was racist toward Native Americans. Bah. If anything it was racist toward Mexicans.
Racist. The de-humanizer. The insult that ends the conversation. That puts a person on a desperate defensive. Like “pedophile,” “gay,” “communist,” and “witch.” Depending on what stretch of historic timeline you inhabit.
So let me make this easy. Let me say it in clean clear language.
I am racist. I see color. I note when someone is a different race than I am. When I met my yard guy Juan for the first time, I automatically spoke slow, easy English. I judged by his appearance, a ruddy dark complexion, work clothes, and of course, him being Mexican, that he may not speak it well. He does not. Though considerably better than I speak Spanish.
But wait. I’m also sexist. If I need help in a public place I usually try to find a woman first, because I think they will be nicer and more patient. And I would want a male fireman to rescue me, (though I certainly wouldn’t fight off anyone who was trying.)
Class-ist, too. I like well-dressed people with good carriage. Even though I am usually not one of them.
Revisionist also, don’t forget. I am suspicious whenever history labels good guys and bad guys, because history is never, ever like that. I don’t believe white people are bad and though we should learn from history, I don’t believe the past should be judged by the rules of the present.
I am prejudiced. In a thousand ways. I judge on education, appearance, speech, dress, age. Mostly because that information is the first I receive when I meet someone. I form my initial impression, and alter it as necessary. People do that to me, too. I make a terrible first impression. I have chronic bitch-face, am fat, talk funny, and have no table manners. C’est la vie. If they stick around they usually change their minds.
I am a tangle of flaws and bigotry and judgments and insecurities. Some of my prejudices are warranted by repeated reinforcement, some I designed myself from whole cloth, based on maybe a single experience or gossip or an article in the paper. And when I get new information, I change those prejudices. For instance, I will never judge a mother with a screaming child again. Ever.
So that’s me. Dreadfully flawed. I am all those things you accuse me of and so much more.
And I don’t believe for a second that I’m the only one.
You're Doing It Wrong 
Some days when I’m parking my car, I feel the need to make sure all the white people can hear Mr George Strait blasting from my stereo. Then there are the days I’m all like Kanye can get it, so lock your doors and windows, mofos. I could, I guess, settle in the middle with Miley, but no one would get the irony and I’d just be plain embarrassed.
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Yeah…Miley isn’t the answer to racial tension. Miley isn’t the answer to most things.
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Oh I have a thousand things to say and they’ve all left me with no communication skills. We ARE all prejudiced – we all prejudge based on many of the things you mention. It’s part of critical thinking, drawing parallels, finding how one experience ties into the others we will have. My pitch changes when I think someone doesn’t understand me. When I’m not sure of someone’s intentions, I ask a lot of questions rapidly trying to gauge honest response versus bullshit. In my middling life, tall white men and frat boys have been the cruelest to me. I skip a beat and put on one more layer of “I’m not sure” and dive the heck in. We’ve all got something. But immigration – that’s a bigger picture. I know that you know the difference between colonialism, invasion and immigration. Our forbears came across the waves with their flags, their swords and their muskets looking for a new land to TAKE from a poorly armed, disorganized native population. Most immigrants these days, legal or otherwise, are not landing on our shore with national conquest on their minds. At least my better sense would tell me so. You’re no more racist than me, no more sexist, no more anything (except maybe brave and blunt) – you’re living inside your cultural norms and not really sure what to do with the things outside. Will you give someone a chance? Yes. Will you try to understand? Yes. Will you admit your shortcomings? Always. Carry on – honesty is worth a lot. But I suggest, as usual, that when the person with the jaws of life shows up with breasts and a beautiful dark skin tone, you let her get her work done!
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I already said “I’d prefer a male fireman but surely wouldn’t fight off anyone who was trying to save me!” Prejudices are mostly in the head, anyway. Idealisms. In the light of day or face to face, they tend to wither.
Besides the post wasn’t about the meme. It was about someone calling me racist and me agreeing with them. And it’s the meme comparing illegal immigration to manifest destiny, not me.
You’re getting hungry for stimulating conversation again, aren’t you darling girl? Road trip to Kit’s is what I prescribe. Or movie and dinner with me.
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True and true. I love your openness. And since that sounds like the start of a list, let’s mention your wit, humor, compassion and capability to learn, shift and walk that catwalk. Yes to stimulating conversation as well. Wish you were still right down the street.
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I think I love you! I respect nothing more than unfettered honesty spoken so eloquently, how could one take offense or judge? It’s your self-awareness that makes all of these things okay. Unfortunately, not so many people are this self-actualized. The irony of it is freaking rich – do they even realize that they are judging you?
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“I’ll tolerate anything except your intolerance.” Well…that makes you intolerant.
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exactly.
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