A man in a uniform looked at me and said, “Son, you’ll have to gain three pounds to get into this man’s army.” It was in early 1969 that I was required to appear for a selective service physical examination. I walked through the examination center in my underwear along with John, a college friend who was scheduled for the same day.
John was next in the line where height and weight were checked. He was a good student, a big man, a capable athlete, and black. The same man (white) looked at him and said, “Boy, you’ll have to lose five pounds to get in this man’s army.” I could see my friend’s dark brown face turning red; and feared how he might respond to being called “boy”. He paused, looked back at his antagonist, and replied, “Yessuh Boss” then mock-shuffled away and laughed out loud.
That was racism. I saw it. But my experience was not the same as John’s. He lived it. He wanted to let his anger out in response; but he was powerless to do that. Racism often hides in the shadows – showing itself only when victims are powerless to respond. In that era of civil rights and anti-war protests a strong response might have landed John in jail, so he made a joke from his anger.
Most black folks complied with unwritten laws in the Jim Crow South because they were powerless to do otherwise. Black men crossed the street to avoid walking next to a white woman. Many didn’t even try to vote because of the certainty of retaliation. Non-compliance could bring loss of a job at a white-owned business, eviction from rental property or lynching. Victims tolerated their circumstances because they had no choice.
Since those days, we’ve made great legal progress. Civil rights laws and court decisions have reduced overt discrimination in government policies, employment, and business practices. But the racism that leads to discrimination still lies in wait.
- A business owner fears how her mostly white employees will respond if she hires a black person as their supervisor.
- A history teacher worries about how parents and school officials will react if he assigns reading about white supremacists overthrowing the elected government of Wilmington, NC.
Both examples spring from racism, and the victims remain powerless to respond constructively. Like polluted air, subtle racism is so pervasive that it is generally invisible unless you are looking for it. After a horrific event like the recent murders in Charleston, the beating of Rodney King, or the KKK execution of Emmet Till, there is brief recognition that racism is the root from which the horrors grow. But public attention is quickly diverted to blaming the victims or (in better times) to fixing symptoms of racism. Now the focus has shifted to symptoms and symbols of racism such as confederate battle flags and statues honoring racist heroes. After they are removed from government property, racism will remain.
My friend John showed me that the dream of eradicating racism in America can best be accomplished on a one to one basis by getting to know and trust each other across racial lines. Only then can we quit pre-judging and fearing others because of their skin color. It can be done anywhere: college dormitories, homes, churches – by going for recreation together, supporting the same charities, or helping each other out in a time of need.
The painfully honest yet peaceful response to race-motivated murders in Charleston, SC is possible because residents there have begun to build understanding, trust, and friendship across the lines of race. In his eulogy for a victim, President Obama called it grace. From the compassionate examples set by victims’ families and Charleston residents of all races, we can begin to see trust and friendship emerging. It can thrive if we nourish it – to have a friend, one must be a friend.
I am forever grateful to John, the first black person who talked openly with me about race. He helped me see what was not previously visible. My wish is that each of us can share our experiences and thoughts – listening and talking – with friends of a different race. We need that because of this irony: It is only after racism becomes visible to us that we can make it disappear.