Dan,
There's something else you said that stuck out when I first read it but decided to let it go at the time. I've changed my mind. It's a man's prerogative, you know, and this is a matter very, very close to my heart – who I am.
America has come along way in the area of tolerance and acceptance. This observation coming from yours truly, who sat on the buses in the deep south with signs directing 'coloreds to the back of the bus' and signs at rest rooms 'whites only', drinking fountains, theaters, dry cleaning shops, you name it I witnessed it, first hand.
I just have to say that it's always amazed me when I learned of the Viola Liuzzos of the world... those white Americans who willingly (and willfully) suffered indignities -- even martyrdom -- for the sake of something great, without really having to. I wonder what they were thinking, how they must have been raised, how truly American the blood was that coursed through their veins. In my mind, they are nothing short of heros.
That being said, I must also make a significant confession, one that I have rarely made anywhere. Whenever I encounter an older/elderly white American for the first time, I cannot help but wonder what secrets s/he holds as to what s/he did (or did not do) back in the 40s, 50s and 60s when my father or mother or uncle or grandparent was in the grocery store that time and being harassed; or waiting at the bus stop; or walking home from work, minding their own business; or trying to get into school.
I've seen my share of photos (and heard my share of stories) from that era, when red-blooded Americans bared their teeth and raised their fists (just for starters) as nigras like me simply wanted to get on the bus and go home or get a bite to eat at a lunch counter. I can't help but wonder what became of those young white Americans ... people now my age, or a little older.
Did they ever 'repent'? Grow? Change? Make amends? It's a thought that flashes through my mind, beyond my control really (not that I WOULD control the thought) almost every time I meet an older white man or woman. I can't help but wonder. I always have... probably always will.
I think many who did not actually witness or live through that time period, may have a hard time accepting what I say. But overall the climate in this country today, is so much opposite from what it was just 30yrs ago
You are probably right.
I have a PBS series ("Eyes on the Prize") on six video tapes that documents the Civil Rights Movement. The way that certain members of our society (read "black") were habitually treated is breathtakingly difficult for today's youngsters to fathom. Since then, I've learned that it's not just people of African descent that suffered such inhumanities, but other minorities as well. I've actually heard kids say that they straight-up didn't believe it -- not in America. Then the tape began to roll. At that point, silence fell, eyes got big as half-dollars, mouths dropped. After a while, a tear or two appeared on the faces of the silent kids. Facts can be cruel sometimes. I teared up, too, with the memory of it.
My daughter, far removed from that time and place, will know -- trust me. She will see this series so often that she will be able to narrate it by heart. Despite her initial disbelief, it will play out right in front of her on TV, beyond any effort of hers to diminish the reality of it. I hate to have to let her know exactly who she is, but someone's got to do it, and I can't think of a better person than me. What she does with the information remains to be seen, but I will always have her back.
I will add my own personal anecdotes. Thirty years ago, I was a teen, living in a small Southern town. Forty years ago, I was a bit younger, and some of THOSE memories are equally vivid. Believe me, as most minorities can, I can tell a story or two of my own... not as an outside observer who rode the bus and then went home to their own peaceful slice of Americana, but one who had no escape but was forced to live it 24/7.
No need for Affirmative Action? Like I said, the jury's still out for me.
Peace, my Friend,
tj