Over the years, I’ve come to understand that every racist I’ve known has two marked characteristics. He\/she is not deeply intelligent (dislike or hatred of an entire group of people is, almost by definition, irrational); and he\/she is innately fearful.<\/p>\n
Back in the 1980s, I had an on-and-off involvement with a man who was a racist. I’ll call him “John.” John told racist jokes, called women “Feminazis,” hated liberals and hated living in a liberal city. Eventually he moved to Texas, undoubtedly the right place for him.<\/p>\n
John drove a truck in New York City. He wasn’t a poseur about that truck: he genuinely needed it for his work. The first time I got into his truck was also the first time I heard Rush Limbaugh, who blasted from John’s radio at a decibel level which was literally deafening. I got John immediately to turn it down, which he did, with a sense of humor.<\/p>\n
My ear-splitting moments with Rush were how I first heard the term “Feminazi.” I also heard ugly racist stuff. I was appalled and said so.<\/p>\n
You’ve probably already figured out that John was not a native New Yorker. He’d come to the city, as many people do, to advance his career. His blue collar home town in a deep red state was a dead spot as far as his work was concerned.<\/p>\n
I was sharply aware that his family background and home town were not like mine. He came from an all-white, blue-collar world. Even in New York, the way he lived and the immediate environment in which he lived were all white. He did not travel on the subways; he drove a truck.<\/p>\n
But for all the weight-lifting machismo — great body; I started lifting weights because I wanted my arms to look that good — he had fears of the unknown. One autumn day we trucked up the Hudson and on the way back stopped at Bear Mountain State Park.<\/p>\n
Out of the truck, we walked along a trail in the woods for a short time. A very short time. At a point at which our steps would take us out of sight of the parked truck, John stopped dead. And would not go further.<\/p>\n
“Why not?” I asked. He didn’t offer a convincing answer. “Are you afraid?” I asked. He didn’t say yes, but he didn’t deny it either. We went back to the truck and departed.<\/p>\n
He was fearful of what he didn’t know, and his way of living did not permit him to expand the base of his knowledge.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
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Over the years, I’ve come to understand that every racist I’ve known has two marked characteristics. He\/she is not deeply intelligent (dislike or hatred of an entire group of people is, almost by definition, irrational); and he\/she is innately fearful. … Continue reading