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In & Out of Racism
by Carl Wergyn
My first impression of a Native American happened when I was about 5 years old. I
was watching The Wonderful World of Disney on TV, and Walt Disney was in his office,
introducing a man in a full feather headdress and buckskins as "Chief (something)
-- he's an Indian." The Chief looked obviously out of place, and I felt a little
sad for him. I asked my parents if I would ever see an Indian, and they replied with,
"probably not," and nothing more. During my childhood, I just assumed the
Natives were gone. School history books always spoke of them in the past tense --
it was easy to assume they were extinct. I still haven't seen anyone walking down
the street that resembles Chief (something).
As I grew older, I heard of reservations located in my state and I became more interested
in knowing the non-extinct Natives. This growing desire was coupled with a growing
sense of guilt as I gradually learned (via public television) of the atrocities the
white settlers and soldiers had imposed upon these people. In high school, I would
occasionally ask my friends about driving to the nearest reservation, just to, I
don't know, say, "Hi, I'm sorry," and deliver a bag of groceries, or do
something. This was answered with a serious "No way! They'd get one look at
our white faces and start shooting!" or words to that effect. My wispy naïveté
was giving way to solid apprehension.
It was only in the last several years during the height of New Age popularity that
I managed to learn many things from the Natives first-hand. One evening, I attended
a sweat lodge ceremony on a local reservation with a few of my white friends. We
went for enlightenment and we received it. There was no hatred, only gentleness.
There was nothing primitive, only tradition. No suspicious silence, only deep spirituality.
The people were definitely not extinct, and the Native theology is neither New nor
an Age.
My experience regarding African Americans was different, yet similar. My first impression
was from an old movie I saw on TV, also when I was about 5. The black man talked
in such a silly manner, I thought it was the funniest thing I'd ever seen. Then he
did some crazy dancing, falling down and sliding across the floor, all the while
smiling. I couldn't stop laughing. A few years later, The Flip Wilson Show was on
the air. Flip was hilarious, dressing in drag as the Geraldine Jones character, and
also doing the "Here Come da Judge" bit. I decided right then that I really
liked black people. They were so funny!
My neighborhood in the 1970s was about as white as a neighborhood could get, a middle
class demographic in a relatively new suburban area, with rolling hills, spacious
lawns, wide streets, blue skies, singing birds. The high school for my school district
had the nickname of Hollywood High - its reputation for schooling affluent teenagers
of affluent families was known citywide. I graduated in a class of 700-something
white kids and one African-American guy. He was nice, although quiet and serious.
I kept joking with him, trying to get him to be funny; I assumed that his true nature
was to be wild and entertaining, and somebody had to make him feel at home so he
could make us all laugh. Later, I realized how foolish I was: while I excelled at
music and partying, he excelled at math, science, English Lit and history. I can
easily imagine that his children have graduated from the new Hollywood High and are
enrolled with an academic scholarship in a college of their choice. Meanwhile, my
life has been...well...colorful.
These personal experiences have influenced me to question where racism is today.
Many people who have been the recipients of racism agree that anyone who says that
he or she is not a racist cannot be trusted. Everyone is a racist to some extent,
it's said, and at first this may seem an overly defensive position.
Racism has had tremendous press during the last generation or so, and it would appear
that it is on the way out. At least it appears so here in the upper Midwest, where
racism isn't exactly shouted. The subtlety is insidious; politeness is finely woven
into our society like the fibers in silk. You need to be receptive -- or maybe defensive
-- to feel the racism.
Perhaps everyone has experienced racism on some level. My ancestry is primarily German.
There have been occasions when it was insinuated that my dad and his family were
associated with the Nazis (as with other non-English children, he and his young classmates
were forced to speak English only, or face corporal punishment), or someone would
say without remorse that all of the Germans should have died in World War II. Maybe
anyone's intent with saying those things had been an attempt at maintaining status
quo, humor, conversation or starting a fight. If the words did hurt and do hurt,
who dislikes whom?
Could it be that an underlying and additional issue is classism? How well a person
is dressed and expressed? Is he or she educated and articulate? Does race influence
your view of class?
If you take a walk downtown or uptown, you might make eye contact and smile at anyone
-- white, black, Native, Hispanic, Asian -- except the person who appears homeless.
Anyone with dirty clothes and bad hair is given extra space. No eye contact. They'll
just approach, asking for change, and then we'll need to deal with social imbalance
right in our collective face and stumble through excuses or a sudden distraction.
Perhaps the request for change isn't a request for extra cash. Perhaps the answer
has a simple beginning: contact and openness ultimately leads to an understanding
of the human condition.
To understand others is to understand who you are, and vice versa.
A Course in Miracles tells us: "...How can peace be so fragmented?...In truth
you and your brother stand together, with nothing in between. God holds your hands,
and what can separate whom He has joined as one with Him?...It remains impossible
to keep love out" (Text, pg. 446). Realizing our non-separation would surely
have a harmonious effect on everyone, beginning with ourselves.
"It's not the feast we throw away, it's the way we close the door." (Jon
Anderson/YES, "We Agree")
Rev. Carl Wergyn is a Reiki Master Teacher, drummer, Befriender and facilitator
of the Healing Ministry of Unity South Church in Bloomington. He may be reached at
carlwergyn@hotmail.com.
Copyright © 2005 Carl Wergyn. All rights reserved. |
| May 2005 |
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