Reply #18: How I turned out different from them

[LucyParsons]

I credit the fact that I've never heard my mother utter a racist statement against anyone in my life, nor has anyone on her side of the family. We were talking about this on the phone the other day (specifically the "uppity" type of comments about Michelle Obama), and she said to me something I hadn't heard her say before, which pinged my sad heart with a little bit of unexpected pride, and hope. She said, "Well, in all the years I lived with Granny (her grandmother), I never once heard her say anything bad about black people, or any people. There were some black people in our little community out there (in rural East Texas), and they did a lot of work together, and they would share canned fruit, and things, and stop by the house. I never, ever, heard anyone on my mama's side of the family say a word against black people. They just treated everyone like people."

I was surprised to hear this. I had assume that ALL my old, white, rural relatives were necessarily racist by definition. And I know most of the ones on my dad's side were and are, from firsthand experience, unfortunately. So that made me feel hopeful. Then I started thinking about some of my mom's aunts and uncles, and I realized she was right - they had NEVER said any of that shit in front of me growing up. And I couldn't imagine them doing so. So perhaps my incidental contact with them (we lived "in town") helped form a worldview in me that was inherently egalitarian.

I remember when I was about 5, and my dad took me aside to ask me if I knew any black people, or what they were. At the time, I was in kindergarten in Denton, Texas (a "liberal" - for Texas - place), and there were several black kids in my class, so I told him that. I remember being confused, but somehow, already, at age 4, knowing where he was going with this. He said, "Lucy, you know, don't you, that they're not the same as us? They're good people, too, but we're just different. And you should always treat them the same way you treat anyone else, but just remember that they're different. You can be friends with them, but don't ever let one spend the night at your house. And don't date one. You can't marry a black. God doesn't want that. Did you ever see a horse and a cow have babies? No." And I remember saying, "Daddy, that's wrong. They're people, just the same as we are. We're all the same."

I'm only 28. This happened in 1984. Now I realize that I must've somehow gotten that idea (crazy, huh?!), from my mother. And for that I credit her.

Sorry if this was hard to read; I'm sure it's harder for black Americans to experience than to read. I've just been thinking about this a lot lately, and trying to figure out the best way, as an adult, to try to make a crack in my relatives' racist craniums.