There are certain things in the world that insist on being immortal. As a child, I believed that the world would change for the better by the time I was an adult. I was an optimistic child, therefore completely naïve.
I thought that love would end racism, homophobia and pretty much any other form of prejudice. To this day, when I see friendships or romance between different races and cultures (especially those from the south) I feel especially happy. Why is this?
We have our first black president. We have many people of color in positions of leadership in various areas of society. The ‘N’ word and other racial slurs are socially unacceptable. It can even get you fired or make you lose millions in endorsements.
So why is it that I think of race when I see various interracial socializing? Perhaps because my childhood and teenage years was affected by race. The issue of race was everywhere (even within my own people).
Up until the age of 7 or 8 I lived in East Los Angeles. I never saw a black person until we left East L.A. I loved and hated my fellow Latinos. I saw Vatos as dirty, smelly, thuggish drunks. I was repulsed so much that I vowed never to be with a Latino regardless of his station in life.
As a child in Pasadena, I was initially repulsed by blacks and middle eastern children. They were tough, stand-offish and I didn’t like their looks either. I thought of them as monsters. It’s very difficult to admit that now.
Love changed me. A black girl protecting me from mean girls erased my bigotry. When more friends treated me as their equal, my bigotry was replaced with affection. Even bullies of various races couldn’t make me revert back to my old way of thinking.
I figured that racism, bigotry and all prejudices are all just cover stories. At the end of the day, its fear. Its fear of what family, friends or anyone in your life will think. It’s also fear of change and making yourself vulnerable to something different.
At the end of the Civil War, former slave owners were convinced that the slaves would rise up and murder them. It didn’t happen because revenge wasn’t an issue for the slaves. After hundreds of years of rape, torture, murder and imprisonment, slaves just wanted their freedom to leave, stay, learn to read and not be beaten.
So why were black people lynched? One: Whites couldn’t stand the thought of blacks being equal to them or worse, better than them. Two: Whites continued to expect the worst from blacks and blacks refused to oblige them.
This is just my opinion. Two African-Americans girlfriends stood up with me on my wedding day. I love them like crazy. My love for them will not end social hatred, but that won’t stop me from loving them and all good people.