No, I Am NOT Different, Dammit!

I’ve just participated in a marathon comment thread on a post by fellow blogger Ron Powell.  If you have the time to read more than 250 comments, some of which are worthy of posts in their own right, you won’t regret it.  In essence, a handful of prolific left-leaning reader/writers attempt to have a conversation with a frequent commenter who believes it is possible for black people to be racists.

Eventually, there came a point in that thread that reminded me of just how many times in my 68 years on Earth I have been told the following:

You aren’t like most black people.

You are different.

You are a credit to your race.

I don’t even think of you as black.

All the people who made these statements and others like them really believed they were giving me a compliment.  They thought they were telling me how much they admired me, enjoyed me, and learned from me.

What they were really telling me, though, would have been shocking as hell to them if I were to have let them in on it.

You aren’t like most black people. = Most black people are dark, stupid, loud, scary, dishonest and smell funny.

You are different. = You speak proper English, you are not angry all the time, you do not frighten me and you are smarter than I am.

You are a credit to your race. = You have learned how to behave the way my people prefer that you behave.  You are light, bright and almost white.

I don’t even think of you as black. = You are so similar to me and my people, I have stopped noticing the color of your skin, which isn’t all that different from mine anyway.

The reason it is not possible for black people to be racists is because blackness is not the standard of comparison in America.  If the situation were reversed and some African nation had sailed the seven seas looking for the New World and stumbled upon the eastern shores of what is now the good old USA; if when they got here they immediately decided the native people they found here were savage heathens who needed to be displaced, removed, killed or assimilated; if the majority of the wealth of America was concentrated in the top 1% of black families and the majority of the members of Congress, the Supreme Court and the 44 Presidents were black men, THEN African Americans could be racists.

No, black people can be and sometimes are prejudiced against people who are not black, but they are not racist.  Black people can be cliquish and exclusionary in their daily lives, but they cannot be racist.  They can segregate themselves, by choice, when selecting tables in a school cafeteria or at entertainment venues.  They can call white people names such as honkies and crackers and Mr. Charlie and peckerwoods and grey dudes and Caspars.  But there is no possible way for an African American to be racist.

Having this conversation with people who believe we black folks should just get over the fact that people like us were slaves who built the very foundation of the country “they” call “this great country” is exhausting, exasperating and essential. Until I and those like me who are willing to put in the time and endure the frustration that comes from engaging in these dizzyingly circular exchanges are able to get conservatives to understand the real meaning of racism; until we are able to chip away at the denial that pervades the thinking typical of many politically right-leaning Americans, we must keep talking.

I am not different.  I am not the same.  I am no different than thousands of other people of African descent who were lucky enough to be born into families with adults who actually understand what it means to be an adult and a parent.  Many of the black kids in my segregated suburban Chicago neighborhood had that same kind of luck.  People who were raised within a two-block radius of my house grew up to be doctor’s, attorneys, pharmacists, corporate managers and teachers. 

Nor am I the same. In that same geography, we had girls who were impregnated by their biological fathers, single mothers on welfare, abject poverty and petty criminals. I am not the same as any of those people.  In other words, my little neighborhood was a microcosm of American society.

Why then, must I be considered different if I am one of a huge number of equally civilized, equally or better-educated, and equally law-abiding African Americans?  Why is the comparison used by America’s conservatives always with the minority of my community who lead aberrant lives, choose crime and drugs and end up disproportionately represented in the penal institutions across the nation? 

Why do I have to write a post like this?  Do we judge white people based on their lowest performing individuals?  Quite the contrary.  All white people are assumed to be good Americans until they prove themselves otherwise, unless they choose to present themselves in a totally aberrant fashion.  Someone who works hard, follows the rules, raises his/her kids well, pays their taxes and spend their days mostly sober is just another regular person in the eyes of white Americans, as long as that person is white.  What do we people of color have to do to be measured by the same metrics?

I urge people on both sides of this issue to start talking – to each other and to the opposition.  Be honest, but not insulting.  It IS possible.  Look inward and ask yourself if you are prejudiced against any group.  It could be against red heads.  It could be against police officers.  It could be against skinny people.  Face your biases and examine them.  Are they rational?  Does everyone in that group really exhibit all the traits you assign to that group?

No one is saying these conversations are going to be easy.  On the contrary, they are arduous and will require a great deal of self-control.  When you start to “lose it” and are contemplating calling the other person an asswipe, don’t.  Instead, remind yourself that if you are not part of the solution, you are part of the problem.