Racism is one of the key threads in the fabric of American history. It's been present since long before the founding of the Republic, and it continues to color U.S. politics and economics to this day.
Based on my personal experience and reading of the historical record, American racism comes in two flavors: one rooted in deeply ingrained animosity and the other fueled by ignorance. While the open hatred that formed the basis of racism in the Deep South until the Civil Rights Movement is largely a relic of the past, racism continues to be sown in soil fertilized with ignorance.
I have repeatedly been exposed to the ignorant variety of racism in the state of New Hampshire. Forgive them, for they know not what they do.
The Granite State's population is 94.6 percent white and 1.6 percent black, according to the U.S. Census. Nationally, 78.1 percent of the population is white and 13.1 percent is black.
My first residency in New Hampshire began in the fall of 1998. I was hired to serve as the night editor at the Concord Monitor and made a bee line to the nearest pool hall to get a sense of the capital city's rank-and-file citizenry. While sipping a beer at the bar, I struck up a conversation with a "roofer," who was friendly and just as curious about me as I was about him.
"So, how do you like Concord?" he said.
"It seems like a really nice place," I said. "It's wierd though. I've been here for two weeks and I haven't seen a brown person yet."
"Yeah," he said. "Some of the worst niggers I know are white."
About four months later, I started dating a black girl. She told me stories that could have been set in Birmingham, Ala., in the 1950s.
One of Jen's more incredible recollections was the day her car was struck by another vehicle on Main Street about 50 yards from her apartment. The other driver was at fault.
The crowd formed quickly. The local police officer who responded to the scene didn't bother to talk with Jen, even though she had called for assistance. At least one onlooker called her a "stupid nigger" within earshot of the officer.
After more than a half hour waiting to give her statement, Jen approached the officer.
"Excuse me," she said, "do you want to ask me any questions? I was the one who called you."
"Shut up!" the officer responded, launching into a threatening tirade.
Jen had to call the state police to intervene.
I moved to Boston a year later, but love drew me back to Jen and New Hampshire in 2010. Soon after we started dating again, Jen and I went to a harvest festival at a local apple farm.
It was a beautiful fall day. The parking lot was packed. Other than Jen, the only other person of color we saw at the farm was guiding cars to parking spaces.
We walked into the huge barn that had been converted into retail space, looked around, then headed toward the orchard, where a large crowd was listening to live folk music. As we exited the barn into the bright field filled with patrons seated on lawn chairs and pumpkins, some lounging under an open-sided tent with broad red and white stripes, it was like a dark cloud had formed over their heads. Everyone but the band fell silent, and hundreds of disapproving eyes fixed on me and my future bride.
We got the message loud and clear. The black man in the parking lot appeared glad to see us leave. And he didn't look the least bit surprised that we were beating a hasty retreat.
Birmingham Police attack a civil rights activist in 1963. /Image via pbs.org
2 comments:
I still live in the small town you grew up in, and although it is better than what you described in your post, we still faced many uncomfortable incidents when my former husband, who is black, moved in with me.
Worse, and much harder, were the handful of racist incidents my daughter experienced in the Hebron elementary schools. As you noted, rooted in ignorance, not deep-seated hatred, but difficult none the less. She's now in a magnet school in Hartford, and that has made such a huge difference in her life.
Finding the words to confront racism when I encounter it is an on-going challenge. I wish I was better at it, although I'm guessing that no matter how eloquent my words, they wouldn't have much impact on most people anyway.
Thank you for speaking up. I sincerely believe that every time ordinary citizens stand up to injustice it makes a difference. As a country and town-by-town, Americans have come a long way toward addressing racism, but we must continue to stand up and be counted when ethnic bias rears its ugly head.
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