A friend from pre-college posted the following message on FB:
- “Get mad at me for saying this if you want, but reading/hearing middle class white people call stay at home orders oppression is HILARIOUS and reminds me that America truly has been a very different place for ethnic minorities.#HonestObservation #ImNOTHereToLieToYou #Privilege. Edit: This is undoubtedly true for all marginalized groups.”
I have a vague memory that involves this friend. It’s of when we were in middle school, mostly during a math class, which was taught by an inept guy who was doomed as a teacher given that he took to heart how his students perceived him. Given that at the age we were at, you shouldn’t put much stock in our opinions and most of us were likely selfish jerks, this guy was a failure at his job. He catered to people who pretended to not understand what he taught, thus his earnest desire to leave no student behind, before that phrase became a political angle, meant we mostly spun around in circles. Or, rather, I recall trying to balance our desks on two and then even one leg. Boredom precipitated tomfoolery.
Part of our shenanigans involved prodding at boundaries. I forget the specifics, but a group of us would jokingly use racial, cultural, and other similarly minded slurs toward each other. Well, not even slurs at times, but rather categories. No malice meant. We, at least this was my take on what we were doing, were mocking the absurdity of these terms, of the ideas behind their use. We’d declare, “Whatever, Jesus Christ worshipper” or, “So says the Jew,” or whatever else. I suspect we may have also used some of the usual suspects when it comes to outright offensive language, and I discretely recall someone receiving a Happy Bar Mitzvah card for a birthday, which isn’t necessarily a religious assault, but, at the same time, isn’t what I’d label as classy. I think this guy, the Facebook poster, was part of this crew, though I may be misremembering. I know that he was in the class, and I believe that we cemented our friendship during this class as we sought purpose, for learning math wasn’t the outcome toward which we were heading.
Of course, at that age, I’m sure that this friend had a better idea of cultural differences than I had at the time. Being black, I suppose that shit hits you on day one. There’s no looking away. It’s like you’re sitting in a chair with an apparatus strapped your face, which provides prongs that hold open your eyelids so that your eyes can stare at a projection and the images that it carries. Your ears, well they hear things, and you’re smart, so you pick up on what’s happening in society on the TV, with your family and friends, and basically every vibration that we call life that happens while you’re alive in this culture. Not that you even need to be smart to pick up on these social constructs, on how the world works, for we’re all pretty smart even if we don’t make use of our intellect at all times. You just have to take a moment to pay attention. At that age, I wasn’t paying attention. I was blind, essentially. Most people don’t pay attention; that’s the first thing you learn once you have a moment to close your eyes and reflect.
I remember, in history class, one of our classmates would lament that the South had lost the Civil War, which caused this particular friend a lot of, hmm, I’ll call it anguish though it manifested as incredulous anger. Like part of him couldn’t believe how dumb her words were, for she seemed to lack all concept that what she was saying. She even said that the south would rise again. I now realize that it’s a miracle that he didn’t smack her. She might has well added that she wished that her family could own his, which, now that I think of it, I think may have been part of our pushing-the-boundaries jokes, “my great-great grandfather owned your great-great grandfather, or something along those lines.” As I said above, that math teacher was a fool. He either had no clue that we were being ridiculous or didn’t have the temerity to do anything about it; I hope he found some sense of dignity before long, for sans a sense of self, the world steamrolls you.
Anyway, I share all of this mostly because I miss this friend, for we’ve been in different states for the bulk of our lives and people sort of do their own things, but we have our memories, and I think of those I shared with him from time-to-time. Sleepovers. Conversations. Sports. Games. A trip with his father to a time share. Various tidbits. I don’t retain the specifics of many things, but a decent chunk of memories that he and I shared I continue to curate, even trivial moments like a time I picked him up for school, which, in retrospect, was a touch absurd given that I had to drive like ten minutes the wrong direction to retrieve him, but he was my friend and it was fun to hang out as we went to that pen that is our educational system.
Though we rarely interact via Facebook, and it’s been years since I’ve seen this guy, I do keep an eye on what he’s up to and what he shares. His life path interests me, and I appreciate things that he says and does, like helping people get to voting stations, regardless of whom they’re voting for. He’s one of the good ones. I guess what I’m trying to explain is that his post—and it being the morning and my having guzzled coffee and, thereby, feeling energy that needed to be focused—provoked me to respond. I wrote the following:
“The world turns, and things change as it revolves. Yet, idiots shall remain idiots, blinded by their hypocrisy. What’s unfortunate is that these people stem from a legacy that instills them a voice, which means their idiocy will continue to pervade our lives for years to come. These open-up jackasses couldn’t see gradations or nuances before COVID and most of them will continue to bump through life without opening their eyes, their feckless helpless blundering a potential harm to us whenever it nears.”
My friend replied with: “I wanted to both love and laugh at this comment. Well said sir.”
To which I responded: “Thanks! Though, add in some tears as well, for the optimist in me ever hopes that things will change despite persistent evidence otherwise.”
Though, I regret having written jackasses. Part of me hopes that these people will engage with others and that they can change; calling them jackasses does not invite circumspection. It’ll tune them out; cause division. I’ve changed in some ways, opened my eyes and reconsidered various facets of my life. Other people have done so as well, and, sure, some people will never change, but I feel that you must keep clear the pathway that can get them to reconsider assumptions and perspectives. One of the most amazing people of whom I’ve learned is Daryl Davis. His story, of which I’ve heard a couple versions of and probably prefer the Snap Judgment account titled The Silver Dollar Lounge, in short, is that he befriended KKK members, which caused them to leave the Klan. That level of faith in humans and desire to give people a chance to improve themselves despite risk to personal safety astounds me. What he managed to do through curiosity and a willingness to put aside his ego and preconceived notions inspires me.
Yes, KKK people and Nazis and all sorts of people who believe, say, and/or do things that I would label as terrible are detrimental to society, they pollute our ears and distract us, as a society, from improving. Yet, I do not know that I can discount humans generally, they suck so often, myself included, but there’s always the chance that some percentage of people can improve, and I find it difficult to simply say, “you’re trash,” and refuse to pull on the rope to which they could cling should they wish to extract themselves from the quicksand that pulls them down. For we’re all sinking in mucks of varying substances and sometimes we can clamber out on our own, but, in the end, much of what saves us from ourselves can be the little insights we notice, such as to extract oneself from the mire you can sometimes use nearby roots rather than a rope thrown to you.
I believe that we can all improve, it just takes a desire to do so, and any deities watching me from the beyond surely know that there are so many ways I, as with all of my fellow denizens of earth, am a jackass. I can see these past faux pas moments stream along as I recollect past moments, innumerable and unyielding they appear. So, in this regard, I hope that I have changed, and recognize that for many of my failings I still endeavor to improve; accordingly, I wish the potential for such evolutions to all.