I am Racism – Exposed

My story begins on a ship, in the lower part, in the dark, in the shadows. Now I know

what you are thinking, who wants to be in the dark, in the shadows? My answer is me.

I was welcomed by most, if not all the ship members. They did not know I was there, but

they sure welcomed me. They showed me how much they liked me as they grasped

my persona of superiority while they controlled their cargo. I became excited! I was not

sure where this journey was going to take me, but I could tell that wherever we ended

up, it was going to work in my favor.

I should mention that I had been around for quite some time, but in 1619, my influence

was more apparent.

As I followed in the shadows of the men leaving the ship with their cargo, I could already

begin to see just how much I was welcome. I was automatically placed in a vaporized

position of power, that is, I could see all my friends and supporters clearly; it didn’t

matter that they could not see me, they just knew I existed. Their loyalty to me ran deep

in their hearts, and that made me proud. I immediately attached myself to the positions

of power – it was not difficult, most of them had welcomed me with open arms, treated

me as royalty, and I knew that I was going to stay awhile.

I soon came to realize that in 1776, I could sit among the founding fathers; I smiled with

them, laughed with them -- they glorified me, and they just could not stop talking about

me. I helped them from the shadows. I helped them enforce division by skin color, and I

helped them strengthen this division by whispering to them that this was our privilege. I

applauded them as they planned to separate male cargo from their families and rejoiced

with the leaders as they used their power to ridicule and destroy any religious beliefs of

the cargo. Any way I could help them in validating their privilege and superiority, and

keep them separate from the cargo, I did. I celebrated with them as they created and

welcomed the formal document, which pulled me from the shadows and embraced me

in the light. I did not take the show floor, so-to-speak, but certainly enjoyed the attention

as they signed the US Constitution in 1787 – the words said one thing, their actions said

another, and I was in the mix.

I was free to roam through government spaces. I did my best work lurking in the

shadows of the meetings as it was my favorite place to gloat. I was so confident that it

did not even matter to me that in 1831, someone named Nat Turner, a piece of cargo

himself, a slave, a preacher had the audacity to lead a revolt and freed some of his own

kind; what did bother me, just a little, was that 60 white persons were slain at the hands

of cargo and race traders. I paid little to no attention in 1849, when a cargo woman by

the name of Harriet Tubman, had an underground railroad to free her own kind; but that

did not matter to me. I knew that I was still in power and that my supporters were still in

charge.

But then something shifted in 1861 and even though I was comfortable in that White

House in Washington and still very welcomed; I was not embraced by this new guy. I

recall that he wore a big black top hat and even though he listened to the others, this

man, did not want to talk about me. Confused, I tried my tactic of whispering from the

shadows, but he did not listen. Instead, he supported a Civil War, a war to shift my

power, a way to eliminate my supporters and give freedom to the cargo…those

people…the slaves. What had happened? I did not know what to do--should I leave?

Ha…why would I do that, for I knew that if I stayed there would soon be another in

power to welcome me. So, I retreated to the shadows and held on in the darkness.

I was feeling sorry for myself; disappointed at the decision of this man; when I

remembered a group of my supporters I stumbled upon some years ago. These men

were born with me in their hearts, they were faithful to me; I felt loved and more than

welcomed by them. I considered us family, they were my brothers –they were the slave

patrols. These guys were hard core believers in me; they would meet in secret with me

in the shadows and tell each other how our privilege was a right of their families.

I would chuckle at this and smile as they spoke of how they had their white privilege

passed down from the previous generation and that they too, would pass their

superiority down to their children, who would just keep passing it down, and this thrilled

me. It was in fact the generational white privilege for which I hoped. These boys did not

have any worries because they wore a badge, and well they had the law on their side -

they could do what they wanted, in my name! These slave catchers were people of

power and authority. I knew that they would never let me down. I knew that we would

grow stronger, develop a force for many generations to come and that they would use

their superior power any way they chose. What a pure delight for me!

Now I often snickered while in the shadows, because for some reason, most people

thought I only lived in the South. Yes, The South loved me so much that they celebrated

with me and that energized me. Segregation was a wonderful time for me! Around

1865, “Black Codes” were born, dictating where “coloreds” (I just love that word) could

live and work, repressing, and regulating them to cheap labor status following ‘the end

of slavery.

I sat in homes as my friends prepared their hoods, organized their marches, and

planned to fight for me in government and especially in the schools. They loved me and

came up with more creative names to let people know that I was there, chanting crowds

gathered to support me. I would meet with my old buddy, Jim Crow, and compliment

him on how he had stuck around for me; why ole Jim and his laws were there for me

since 1865 after the end of the Civil War. Much like me, Jim was loved and welcomed,

too. But then something happened to us in 1954, Brown vs Board of Education, when

the Supreme Court justices ruled unanimously that racial segregation of children in

public schools was unconstitutional. I could not believe that my supporters were going

to allow this to go on. The man in my (the) White House could not possibly be like the

top hat man, could he? I must admit, I panicked, just a little bit; saying ‘not this again?’

Then I heard about some activist cargo, some man named Martin Luther King Jr., who

had some sort of dream where he tried to expose me to the light and wipe me away.

Then there was a Civil Rights Act that happened, reminding me of 1875 all over again.

Then there was the radical cargo, some man named Malcom X who was a human rights

activist; what was happening to me? How was it that I was being surrounded by civil

and human rights?

I decided it was time to talk with my friend, Discrimination. I really liked Discrimination

because he always supported me. He was full of injustice and could dwell easily in the

shadows or be in the light; but right now, I needed him in the light. We called on our

faithful friend Prejudice. We loved her, she had been around so long, even longer than

us, but she was more flamboyant than us. We loved how Prejudice was so seductive.

She could put on her lipstick, use a calm voice, and charm her way into any place.

Everyone accepted Prejudice because she was always ready and so prepared!

Prejudice was busy, she gave us her full support and also supported our old friend Jim

Crow by helping him deceive people into thinking that The North was immune to us, but

that was not true. Prejudice had our backs in some of those Northern states, especially

those that required Black people to own property before they could vote. She laughed

with us, she had a great sense of humor, because it was so rare that Black people

owned anything! She kept the schools and neighborhoods segregated and reminded

businesses to display “Whites Only” signs and refuse service to the Blacks. Ah, yes, the

North was not a challenge at all for us.

Prejudice loved the North; she said the people were more subtle in the way they

supported me. They met secretly in their homes to speak well of me. She even told me

how the adults could get away with screaming at cargo kids, call them names and spit

at them. My supporters walked on the other side of the street in such a subtle way,

letting the cargo know, that my Northern superior supporters were unified in their

privilege, just as they were in the South.

They followed the cargo people around in stores, accused them of stealing, removed

them by force, and took put them in jails. Ah yes, Prejudice secured my future there,

and I knew I was there to stay.

As long as I have the former slave patrol on my side, who by now occupied all kinds of

positions of power, it would not even matter who was in charge of the White House.

Why? Because most of the people still supported me in more subtle ways, but I still

comfortably existed. I would say to myself, you are so clever! Ah…. I was just about to

put my feet up and relax, until 2008 came and things changed for me.

I started to get a little nervous, this cargo person, this cargo man, should not be in

charge. Why was he here, in my white house? Where were my people, you know the

ones who supported me? Since they became less noticeable, that meant I was

becoming less noticeable, in the dark, in the shadows – and I was becoming more

noticeable in the light, and I did not like that. My work had always been done in the

shadows, even when I was free to roam in the light, I only did so for a short time, I liked

the dark, I liked the shadows.

I tried to hide behind Discrimination, but he too, was getting noticed. He was being

evaluated at a slower pace, but still he was being picked apart. I ran to find Prejudice

and as usual she was simply fine. She invited me to stay with her, in the light, but to

keep behind her. She told me to calm down and that the White House leadership and its

government branches would only make adjustments, and nothing was going to change;

she knew she would still be accepted by most. I trusted Prejudice, she had my best

interest and she was right -- I just needed to wait and so I did, deeper in the shadows.

I thought I had won in 2017 when the new leader and his staff entered the White House.

I just knew he was the one true leader in my (our) White House. I had heard about him,

and he brought so many supporters for us! He and I had a great time until 2020; when

this virus showed up. I thought the virus was going to be on my side; I mean that is what

made the most sense to me.

In the past, I had been able to interrupt the ebb and flow of the public sectors of

government (federal, state, and local); and wreak havoc in the areas of education,

healthcare, housing, and incarceration. It was me…. all me. I was proud to take full

responsibility for the failures of the people or I should say my victims in these areas; but

then something shifted in 2020.

My believers, my supporters, became less; and they did something that I never

expected - they listened to the cargo people, other ‘cargo’ types of people, and even

some of my own kind, who found a way to fight against Discrimination, Prejudice, and

me. They introduced Disparities – who I thought would be on my side, but was not?

Disparities invaded education, healthcare, housing, and incarceration, and then called

on another colleague, Inequities. Together they started to put more and more policies in

place and enforced diversity, equity, and inclusion. I said to myself, just stay put, stay

here in the shadows, this will blow over. But this time was different, it was stronger, and

I was getting weaker. I found that I was in less darkness, my shadow was shrinking, and

I did not like this.

Little did I know that on May 25, 2020, my existence would change forever. I was there,

you know, watching from the shadows that day. My ‘boy’ in blue was in full superior

power, demanding respect for his privilege, and enforcing his slave patrol authority on a

cargo man that day. Wait…hold on, get that camera phone off me, I scrambled looking

for Discrimination and Prejudice to support me in the growing crowd, but they were not

there. I realized that at this very moment, I was no longer hidden behind Discrimination

and Prejudice. I could no longer live in the darkness, in the shadows, I was forced into

the light. How could this happen, how could one of my brothers, one of my loyal

believers from history’s strongest forces, my boy in blue, expose me for all the world to

see?

I am Racism and I am Exposed!

Thanks…Giving

Take a walk with me down the memory lane of Thanksgiving.

We encounter packed stores with long lines of people scrambling and gathering items to prepare their signature meals. Empty shelves and freezers once stocked full of macaroni and cheese, turkeys, hams, and sweet potato pie ingredients gone viral. Landscapes full of beautiful fall colors of mustard yellow, tan and burgundy for our eyes to see. Watching the children laughing and playing in their yards full of crunchy fallen leaves is such a treat. Inhaling the fresh and pleasing aroma of food cooking as I walk into granny’s house.

“Mmmm it sure smells good in here, is the food ready yet?”

“Not yet but you can grab a knife and start peeling those potatoes if you want to speed up the process.”

“Yes ma’am, and can I have the cake mix bowl when you’re done?”

“Sure, as long as you don’t tease the rest of the kids with it.”

Sitting on the couch impatiently anticipating my favorite cousin’s arrival never gets old. Auntie turns on the music and we have fun dancing and working up a hefty appetite. The chatter is intense as hordes of family members and friends in the room exchange words and catch up on lost time. Alas, the food is complete, the table looks immaculately delicious, filled with a variety of food. Now we can eat but not before we wash our hands, bless the food, and share why we are thankful. All the children call dibs on granny’s banana pudding, not realizing that the first and last scoop always goes to the eldest grandchild who just happens to be me.

“Whew that was delicious!”

Now we’re all sitting around stuffed, but still going for second helpings as some are going for their third. The night commences with more music, dancing, games, laughter, a couple of fights over something meaningless, pictures and the most interesting family stories.

The lasting picture in my mind is of my grandmother sitting in her chair tired and content, with the most beautiful smile on her face as we all gather around to exchange goodnight hugs and kisses. These were the good old thanksgiving days that are hard to restore.

Although It hasn’t been this way for a long time because the people who made it so special are no longer here, these are the memories of thanksgivings past that I will cherish for a lifetime. I hold on to these memories as they remind me of the importance of just being thankful and appreciating life. It reminds me that thanksgiving should be a lifestyle that is amplified every day that I open my eyes. For some people (myself included), the expectancy of life and the grief over loss simultaneously triggers hybrid emotions of sadness and thankfulness. This time of year produces memories that remind some people of pain and trauma which extinguishes the joy of thanksgiving. At times, even the perspective of my own heart’s position is not happy during this time of year. However, my heart remains thankful, for God alone gives the gift of life and makes it possible to live through even the worst pain and situations.

As we look in the mirror, we stare back at the biggest reason to be thankful which is not the reflection alone, but our eyes which allow us to see. For when our eyes open by no means of our own, we know that we are alive. It reminds us that we have been granted a new day, another chance and opportunity to live and to be thankful for the ballad of love trickling down from heaven. Thanksgiving in context of the word, is a choice that doesn’t come as easily as it should for some. But what if I told you that thankfulness is a product of our experiences and relationship with God? Would you believe me if I told you that amid our pain, as tears roll down our cheeks, we can still be thankful? Our growth and character are enhanced during our moments of despair when we take the time to give thanks in all things. The experience of thanksgiving at its finest is in our hearts. So, whether you are standing up or sitting down, look around, inhale, exhale, feel the skin that you’re in, and remember that this my friend, is reason enough to be thankful.

It is taking time to push pause, even if for one day, to enjoy the fruit of togetherness, happiness, artistry, newness, seeking to kindle God’s internal voice amplifying His nonstop glory and majesty.

BP Guest Blogger- Telina L Fleming