Why Racism Matters

I have struggled lately to write. Mostly because of how pointless it feels. Every day, I have been taught the virtuous merits of sustained acceptance for all thoughts and beliefs. Not only that, but who is listening anyways, right? Who actually cares, especially if were not really supposed to?

Well, the resolve I've found is that these ideas, just shy of passion and far from action, will die and fade if I do not, at the very least, record them for myself. This seems the least rigorous course of action, but the most necessary in order to maintain some sense of who I am amidst a sea of blind tolerance.

Recently, as it often comes up, the topic of racism has exploded in the realms of business news and all forms of social media. I do not mean to deflate the enormity of racism in calling it a "topic", I feel the fact that it is one already does so.

My first reaction was- "Really though? But why? I know generations before mine may have some issues with tolerance that  are unquestionably wrong but their world is dead. If we let mother nature run its course, the future of our children will be seamlessly integrated and harmonious."

Some people say no and that's fine. That is great, actually. Not everyone should be as romantic and hopeful as me when looking towards the future. What gets me fired up about this internet conversation is the one-sidedness of its forerunners' outlook. And before you start guessing where I'm going with this, let me explain a little bit about myself.

I am a white female American. I have never been a minority in any category. Even my religious affiliation pools with the masses. Things that can differentiate me from other people are choices I've made and things I've done. I've never had obstacles imposed on me resulting from anything but my own decisions. So, in short, I don't know what its like to be born into a social environment that would judge me based on my sexuality or the color of my skin. Then again, I was never born into a social environment that taught me to treat others differently based on color or nature.

Way way way way back in the day, race used to have a lot to do with who you were. Because chances were- the color of your skin, shape of your body, clothes you wore, way you talked- all had to do with where you came from. And people were taught to be proud of the color of their skin because it was a large part of who they were.

I'm not saying that people shouldn't be proud of their skin color. I think they should. But two things I will add. First, is not once have I ever been proud or excited about the fact that I'm white. And if I was, society would tell me that is wrong. I can be proud to be an American, and a female, and maybe of my distant partial Irish ancestry, but not of my skin color. Do I think that's unfair? No! Of course not- but the fact remains.

Second, is the color of your skin doesn't nearly have as much to do with your social and geographical upbringing as it once did. Someone who more or less identifies as black could be from anywhere. At one point, sure, you could trace part of their ancestry  back to Africa (same goes for any ethnicity you wish to insert into this example) but where they were born and raised has everything to do with who they are, and the color of their skin doesn't necessarily represent that. So, that's a large part of why we shouldn't judge people on the color of their skin. It shouldn't happen even if it were the sole indicator of the type of person someone is/was.

But, here's the root of why racism has always been wrong. Its making a judgement call about someone based on superficial interaction or appearances that tells you someone is beneath you. I don't think my generation, or at least all of the people I know make those kind of judgement calls based on race. But we do it based on other appearances, and especially- on where someone is from.

That is flat out wrong. Let me use an example for this point which is very close to my heart. I LOVE TEXAS. I love the food, the weather, the people, the flat farm lands, the trucks, the dirt- everything. Every part of Texas, all the nuanced behaviors of its people in different corners of the great state. I love it. My grandma Pauline Row lived in West Texas her whole life. She used to make my sister and I cheese and bologna sandwiches and cold cut watermelon for dinner when we'd visit her in the hot summer months. In church, her singing voice was high pitched and vibrato. And she always permed her hair. She would tease it until it formed a perfect white halo around her dainty, poised head. Her hands were so soft. I think that's a grandma thing.

I know its cheating to talk about my grandma, but I swear, that woman was the sweetest creature I had met in my entire life. The way her kids would talk about her also testified to this woman's character. My aunt and uncles are pretty cool too. Whenever we visit my aunt in Texas, she always calls my dad things like "Pastor Brother'' or "Preacher Man". She would call my sister and I "Sissy". You can imagine how perfect it would sound with her perfect Texan twang. My family in Texas, and all the people they commune with are just so affectionate and kind and true to who they are. They don't pretend to be anybody. They aren't impressed by anyone who does.

But since living in New Mexico, I have found other people do not share in my sentiments. Whenever I have confessed my love for Texas to my friends or coworkers, I find the opposite in their hearts. When brought up in conversation, I hear a chorus of disgust, followed by snied comments like "the land is so flat and ugly. The people are fat and dumb and racist and Republican. Gross how could you like a place like that."

So I ask, "Well, have you ever been there?" Sometimes people say they've been to El Paso or had a layover in Dallas or Huston and found this to be the case. Usually though, these assumptions they've made are based on what they see on the news or in social media or have gathered from observing a group of Texans visiting from out of town. Sometimes they'll retort, "Well, you just don't see it because you're white and of course they'll treat you nice there."

I know they don't mean for them to, but these remarks hurt me deeply. When they talk about Texas that way, it feels like they're saying those things about my grandma... about my dad... about me. I just want to scream how can you say that when you've never really been there! How can you say that when you know its a part of who I am!

You see, that is why I think racism is important. Because making judgement calls about a person or group of people based on where they're from is always wrong. It hurts others. If older generations want mine to move forward with tolerance, we have to make sure the mindset that anyone is better than anyone is eliminated. If  they want an integrated future for this country, we need to celebrate who we are more than what we are. So if people think that dissolving racial  stigmas is the first step on this path, they need to understand what the next step is, where we should be headed, and have no hesitation in starting now.