I hired a professional man who happens to be black to do some collections work for me. We met at a coffee shop so I could give him his check for a job well done. We started talking about the Sherrod case, and all the foment it is creating in the continuing American dialogue on racism. The man told me that the reason black people are resistant to being in the USA is because they are the only race that was brought here against their will. I had never thought about that before. I suggested that many blacks could pay for one-way fares back “home” if they preferred to return to Africa. He said they would be discriminated against there too because there is no home in Africa for them anymore. I didn’t point out that perhaps “home is where the heart is”, and that choosing to feel at home in the USA is an option after 150+ years of residency. I kept my mouth shut because I know I have no clue what it would feel like to have been brought here as a slave. (Frankly, neither does he.)
I noticed while he was speaking that for whatever reason, he mispronounced a large number of words. Not just in an Ebonics way, but in the way of someone who is unaccustomed to using $10 words. He spoke about “spontanooity” and said he likes to “conversate” as much as the next person. This is a man who has had ample opportunities to learn good language usage. He comes from a respected military family and his professional credentials are impeccable, including a stint on the police force. I always notice misspoken words – whether I’m the speaker or someone else is. When I speak a word I’ve only seen before but never heard, I’m actually enough of a geek to look up the phonetics of it so next time, I will be sure to pronounce it correctly. I get it that I’m not like all the other kids. Never have been. That’s become OK with me. But his usage became worse as he became more vehement about “the black man’s oppression in society.” His dreadlocks were shaking with the force of his convictions.
When he took a brief breath, I said, “The problem is inadequate education.” I was about to espouse my pet theory on how all children should be given access to exemplary teachers, all teachers should be evaluated and monitored, teachers should circulate throughout their districts, etc. when my companion said, “No. It’s not education. Education has nothing to do with it. It’s plain discrimination.” He stated that Obama, who is “a mixed race person who can’t decide which half he is today” and “the other intellectual, educated people in Washington are ruining the country. It should be handed over to street smart people,” like he most assuredly is. I’d never heard that viewpoint before.
I read somewhere that the majority of prisoners are either learning disabled or extremely under-educated and therefore have few employment opportunities. I really do believe that equitable education is a solution, maybe not the only one, but certainly a big step in the right direction. When we got into his very firm pro-Creationism views, I couldn’t take it anymore. I handed him his check and stood up to leave. I thanked him for his work and the iced tea. But when I got in my car and shut the door, I thought, “Am I a racist? Am I a bleeding heart liberal who thinks that education will change the world? Have I become an intellectual snob – and if so, how did I become one?” Almost everyone I know is just like me mentally, no matter their skin color, although my friends today are a far cry from those I knew during my blue-collar low income childhood. I really truly believe in the “teach a man to fish, you feed him for life” principle.
The Sherrod case has opened a lot of people’s minds to rethinking racism in America today - even benign racism like mine perhaps is. But isn’t there also an onus on the formerly oppressed to reconsider their world view, their place in society, the opportunities this country affords them if they grasp for them?