I have been puny since Christmas Eve and it has done nothing to damper what a fantastic Christmas we have had. What it did do is give me time to lay in bed reading a book Helen brought home. It is one of those Newbury award winning books that I never read but always meant too. I am almost done, Helen is on page 82. It is going to break her heart. It is fiction, but it really isn't. It is the story of Mildred D. Taylor's family and what it was like to be a little girl in Mississippi, in 1933, during the Depression and be black.
It has been a long time since I have read anything like this. Yes, I read the Help but it was different. It had more hope. This is a book that crushes your soul. Maybe you have to read it in the 4th grade because you have more hope and optimism to retaliate against the awful truths in life. In today's 4th grade you can have a crush on a very smart, funny brown boy in your class. You can hear about the black woman who died in police custody on the radio and say to your Mom, "Oh come on, why are we still dealing with this issue? You have been stopped a million times for speeding and the police man never makes you get out of the car. Even when you are being grumpy with him. If we were black would we have to get out of the car? We are all the same. Just some of us can get tan and some of us can't."
In 4th grade you can see color. You don't ignore it. Color is beautiful. My kids describe to me kids whiter than they are "Poor such and such is even whiter than me, bet she never goes out without sunscreen", "You know she is the color of your cafe mocha, Mom", " Oh, he is that dark brown that looks velvety". But today's fourth graders are smart enough to know that a mean kid is a mean kid, a sweet kid is a sweet kid. Skin color has nothing to do with it.
Still, knowing all of that does not make it any easier for a 9 year old to learn that America is not just the home of the free and the brave. It is home to a society that allowed people to be tarred and feathered, set on fire, shot, hung, bred for labor and treated like animals for a long, long time. The Civil Rights Movement took years because it faced such fierce opposition, oppostition that resulted in at least 41 recorded deaths. Racial tensions still exist. In fact they are rampant. When I read this book I can see why. That kind of wound stays open. It starts to get better then someone pulls the scab off. Maybe that is what I will tell Helen, this subject is a big open wound for our country. My Great Grandmother came across Texas in a covered wagon, married a preacher, had four boys and though poor, was well respected in Bowie Texas, the town she lived most her life in. Had she been black, this never would have been her life. For one thing she never would have lived in Bowie, until the 1970's there was a billboard on the side of the road driving into town that said "Nigger, don't let the sun set on you in Bowie."
Like I said, it is a pretty damn big wound.
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And we non-racist whites perpetuate the racist climate in the US by passively listening to racist jokes and statements. I worked at three defense plants. The salaried employees were the most racist that I have been around. I think that most new how I felt and would usually tone down their remarks when we were alone. This was not true when we were in a group. I regret to say that most of the time, I would keep quite or walk away. I do not really know if my lack of response was to protect my job or so I would not be an outcast. I regret that, but at least I do not hold back anymore, even if it is relatives. BTW, my father, mother and grandmother were not at all racists. I never could understand why there were racists in Bowie if the town was totally white.
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