My Experience with Racism

I just spent some time at the bar, celebrating our Independence Day with a friend of mine. We were out on the patio when we were joined by three Native American people. They were friendly, funny, and easy to get along with, though, its not difficult for me or my friend to get along with anyone, really. We're both very amiable people and like to meet new people and learn, always interested in learning. Though I've met Native American people before, I've not really ever had an opportunity to discuss things like cultural differences in the past. I am always up for hearing of others' life experiences, and learn about where they come from. It was interesting to hear about this woman's life, and how she felt about "the white man," though, I have to say, that what I felt after the experience, left me feeling like I was being discriminated against, simply because of the color of my skin.

This isn't a new concept for me, as I grew up in a Hispanic town, where I was the minority, and was discriminated against for being the white kid in class when I was young. I can relate to how people of minority groups feel, I've been there, experienced it first hand. What bothers me most, is that the things I was taught in school were things like, compassion, and to be sensitive to other races, blur the lines of skin color, accept people for who they are and not what they look like. All fantastic concepts however, are white kids the only ones being taught this way? I've found that because it was pounded into me to be sensitive to racial issue, that I was always afraid when encountering other ethnicities, that I was so afraid that just because I was white, that I'd say something to offend them. That being said, other ethnicities seem to be able to say whatever they want about white people, and its ok!

This whole idea is mind boggling to me. I was literally called "dumb" tonight, just because I'm white! Just because I didn't grow up on a reservation, I'm automatically racist, and don't know jack, or can't empathize with people who did. I was raised in a poor family. I know what its like to have to scrimp and save for every little thing! When I was a teenager, and had a job, my brother and I put our own money in to pay for milk for the family, because that's what was necessary. But, to people of other skin colors, I'm just a dummy who knows nothing about struggle, because my skin is white. Isn't that just as racist as me saying the same of them?

My friend apologized to them tonight, because of what our ancestors did to their people, which is admirable however, HE didn't do those things! HE didn't force them onto reservations. And neither did I. I asked him, what are you apologizing for? I mean, really? It was like he was taking on our ancestors' deeds as his own. I agree, the actions in the past may have been wrong, and unwarranted. The native people should not have been treated the way they were! But why should I apologize to them for their life now, when I don't force them to be where they are. They have a choice, just like the rest of us. I grew up poor! I made the conscious decision to better my life, to work hard and work towards doing something to improve my life. Can they not do the same? I mean, we have affirmative action in place for a reason! They have more opportunities handed to them by our government, by my tax dollars than I will ever have! I pay taxes so they have the same or better opportunities to succeed than I do! Yet, I repress them, simply by being alive and white.

I've been faced with this same issue throughout my whole life. I know there is a lot of controversy over Mexicans coming into our country and people think that they are leaching off our system. And perhaps there are some that do, I'm not as knowledgeable about those issues as perhaps I should be. However, the experience I've had with the Hispanic culture, is that those who came from Mexico, came here to better themselves. I have to have respect for that. They work hard and do whatever they can to have a better life, and to provide for their families. But there are other cultures in our country who find it absolutely necessary to rub it in my face that my ancestors repressed them. I'm sorry, there is nothing I can do about the past. The best each of us can do is learn from it so that it isn't repeated. EACH person here, regardless of race, creed, sexual preference, etc., has every opportunity to make a difference in their own life, and the lives of the people around them. Why dwell on the past that you cannot change? Why tell someone else they're dumb because they didn't grow up the way you did? Why think it's necessary assume that because someone has a different color skin, that they don't know what its like to walk in your shoes?

I'm Irish/Scottish, amongst other things. My ancestors were equally repressed and mistreated by the same nation that repressed the Native Americans! I don't go around saying, "Oh my god, the Brittish are dumb assholes!" I don't expect that Brits should apologize to me for my ancestors' misfortunes and mistreatment! Why should I have to feel obligated to do the same for Native Americans or African Americans?

I realize this post may make me look racist however, I'm far from it. As I've said before, I know what its like to be treated differently because of the color of my skin. When I meet someone, I don't look at them and label them. I don't say to myself or anyone else, "Oh, they're x color so they must... (fill in the blank)." THAT would be racist. Rather, I see someone and try to get to know who they are, what they've experienced in life, what they want from life and where they see themselves going, as an individual. Do I not deserve the same treatment? Shouldn't all races/cultures be taught to be sensitive and blur the lines of skin color? Why should I accept someone treating me as a lower person than them, just because of my skin color?

I'd like to talk about grief and mourning...

Grief is a funny thing. One minute a person can be crying, the next angry as hell at anyone around them, even those they love dearly. That has been my emotional state this last week and a half, since the passing of my grandmother. It is very difficult to keep into perspective the importance or unimportance of certain details. I find it also difficult to be less angry with those who I feel have been inappropriate during this time. I try to remind myself daily that just because someone doesn't show it, doesn't mean they don't feel pain at the loss of a loved one. Grief seems to make even the most caring and unselfish of people focus almost solely on themselves.

Despite the negatives that I've experienced through all this, there are some positive things that have come out of it. I've learned where I stand with my family who I've been apart from most of my life, simply because we live on opposite sides of the country. Our family was able to come together to comfort and lift one another up. For once in my life, I no longer feel like an outsider in my own family.

Unfortunately, I also have a new outlook on where I stand in my father's eyes. It saddens me that I can feel so close to my family thousands of miles away, yet suddenly feel the distance grow between myself and a father who lives 50 miles away. Ten years of building a relationship with him has been beat up by this experience, and I fear it will take too long to heal these wounds. I will continue to pray for patience, peace and understanding, as it will be necessary to get me through.

Counting My Blessings

The last two weeks have been a whirl wind of emotions for me. I haven't seen my family in Tennessee for several years, and was fortunate enough to be able to take a trip down to see them. I picked up my grandfather in New Jersey and he and I drove for 10 hours to get to Tennessee. It was one of the most enriching experiences. We talked for nearly the whole time. Getting to know my grandfather is something I've always wished for, and now that I'm an adult, I truly appreciate the time we've spent together. Not only did we get the 10 hours down, but the 10 hours back to New Jersey.

I was also fortunate enough to spend several hours with my grandmother, just listening to her tell me stories of her life, and her side of the family. I got to see pictures of her when she was young, hear of her days in Texas, how she met my grandfather, and some college stories. And don't tell my grandfather, but she also told me about racing cars in the 50's. *giggles*

In addition to these blessings, I spent my days in Tennessee with my two youngest cousins. One I've only met twice, who is and always was a very mature and wonderful young man. And the other I met for the first time - talk about personality!! I never knew a 4 year old could be that outlandish and creative! They're both very dear to me and I miss them more each day.

My aunt and uncles are the same as they were the last time I saw them. Some things will never change. I just have to say, my aunt is the sweetest and most caring person I know.

My brother drove up from North Carolina with his family. I didn't expect they'd be able to come since my newest nephew was less than 2 weeks old at the time. Seeing them made my heart soar and was quite possibly the best gift I've ever received.

I take that back, my whole trip was the best gift I have ever received. I consider myself to be extremely blessed to have been granted this time with my family and hope that I will be fortunate enough to return soon under the best of circumstances.

Mr. Jake Ob

Mr. Jake Ob was the sweetest, most gentle, and loving dog I've ever met. He could never harm a fly, although he tried, he was usually too slow. A beast of a dog, when people met him they usually said, "He's not a dog, he's a horse!" The funny thing is, he never let anyone ride him! Shawn would joke that he was going to charge the neighborhood kids for rides on Jake's back... boy would they have been disappointed.

Jake had been steadily declining over the last several weeks. Finally unable to stand, we decided it was time to take him for one last car ride. He left us too young, he would have been 8 years old in December. My house is not the same without him. His bed is still in the living room where he camped out every day, but he's not there. There will be one less body snoring in our bedroom tonight. I'll miss him tilting his head and looking curiously at the television when the theme for 3rd Rock From the Sun comes on. I'll miss his happy face greeting me at the door when I come home from a long day at work.

Jakie, I know you're better where you are. I'll be dreaming of you playing ball, chewing on sticks that are too big for you, and hearing your tail whap the floor as you wag it. Mommy loves you buddy. You're sorely missed.

In loving memory of Jake Ob Abbott
December 30, 2000 - November 15, 2008

beaten, battered, and worn

The dark, short days of fall and winter are here, and along with them come a certain expectation that I will be feeling a little blue. However, I seem to be hitting a point in time where most everything is going poorly. It seems the saying, "when it rains, it pours" certainly applies at the moment. Ha ha, I almost feel as if my life is a country song! Maybe I should play it in reverse... then I'll get my dog back, my car back, my woman back! (oh my!)

Seriously though, I'm feeling like the title of this post, "beaten, battered, and worn." How long must this go on? After brief reflection, I believe that part of how I'm feeling is my own doing. Maybe its time for a reality check, a come to Jesus with myself.

Coming Home

Being here is like
coming home

The old memories
of days long past

Making new memories
with every moment

Falling in love
with innocent hearts

Hoping to reach
a few who are hurt

Finding a renewed flame
somewhere in mine

Realizing its almost over
when it feels like its just begun

Wanting to stay close
with new friends

But knowing that the hill
makes a world of difference

Making a Difference

Recently I was fortunate enough to be able to go back to the summer camp I went to every year as a kid, only this time, I was a camp counselor. I found the experience to be sereal, because it has been soooooo many years since I've been up there, and because this time, I wasn't a camper. However different it may have been for me, it was still a very rewarding experience, in fact, maybe moreso than when I was a kid. I have to say, I fell in love with all those kids - even the ones who were "difficult." Other counselers found it overwhelming to interact with some of them, well, mainly two or three of the boys, and I feel like they simply gave up on them. It broke my heart to see that the innocence of these children had been taken away from them, and now we were given an opportunity to help them to just be kids! even in the face of that, some of the adults were unable to set aside their personal feelings, and just show these boys some genuine affection. Kids don't act out because they just feel like being brats! They act out because they're searching for attention, right?

Well, I guess all that matters is I felt like I made a difference for at least a couple of these kids. Hopefully it will stay with them and help them to realize that there's more in life than just what you have to deal with at home. Hopefully they will be able to keep their spirits up in times of struggle. You never know, maybe their renewed attitude will help things between them and the "parental units."