Dealing with Racism and Other Horrors

I’m sure you’ve all seen the texts by now. They have been disseminated to some students in our local area, as well as throughout the country. Below is an example.

This sort of communication, hell, the base idea, is completely unacceptable and nauseating to all decent human beings. Sadly, the indecent won too many elections last Tuesday.

While the FBI and state Attorneys General are investigating, and the text company has blocked the accounts and will turn over the information they have, it’s only the beginning of what is to come. The first thing that struck me was how the victims were chosen. While I’m not sure how those children were selected, my guess is that they were plucked from Social Media posts where the perpetrators could see their photos and then, somehow, discern their cell phone numbers.

In addition to be appalled, we need to think about WHAT WE DO as decent human beings to protect our fellow human beings.

The first time I stood up against racism was in the 1970’s. While much of the US integrated schools after Brown vs. Topeka Board of Ed, South Boston was an exception. They didn’t integrate until the 70’s, when the courts forced them too. A group called “ROAR” (Restore Our Alienated Rights) was formed by Louise Day Hicks. Background info. One of the things ROAR did was to pelt kids with rocks as they were getting off the school buses. Under the radar, groups of college students formed “anti-ROAR” groups, and we’d put on helmets, and the thickest coats we had, to help get kids into the buildings safely, and to stand and stare down the rock-throwers, so they would have to hit us white kids to get to the black kids. The image burned in my brain is of this guy, with a rock the size of a baseball, getting ready to throw. I stared him in the eyes, and his eyes were an abyss of hatred. I am not a brave person; I am a fearful person. I was not a mother at the time, but I knew, and he knew, that I would do anything in my power to protect the little kids between him and me. That rock hurt. Thoroughly worth it.

Each of us will need to decide if we are willing to stand up this time. It won’t just be black kids - it will be all PoC, LGBTQIA+ people, pregnant people, Jews and Muslims, and face it - our friends, our neighbors, our families.

Some of us will be willing to take risks: to shelter families in our basements. To take a rock, or a bullet. Some of us will be willing to march, to protest, to write our reps, sign petitions. Some will be placed in a situation where they see something bad: a black person being followed around a store because “they might steal”, or on the receiving end of slurs, so many possibilities. And in those some situations, some will call out the bad people.

Others will not be able to.

But going forward, there needs to be enough white people to stand up for PoC, straight people to stand up for LGBTQIA+ people, men to stand up for women, and on and on. Because we are ALL people. Just PEOPLE. Whatever our race, religion, gender, sexual orientation.

My theory is that all any of us “regular people” want is to get up in the morning, go to work, come home, eat dinner, watch some TV, sleep with the one we love, and that our kids make it through the school day without getting shot. We need to always remember that all of us who are not haters are “regular people”.

I have so many memories of people afraid to live their lives in the sunshine because of “society”. About 25 years ago, my next-door neighbors were these two guys who had a large age differential between them. They younger guy used to take care of my dog while I was at work. He was in and out of school, occasionally had a part-time job, and often told me that he was glad to have a roommate who let him pay minimal rent. At one point, he ended up in the hospital, and the older one came over to tell me the younger one couldn’t walk Olivia because he’d be in the hospital, and he’d be there for a while. The older guy was distraught, and I was trying to find out what the medical problem was, and what was going on, and he blurted out, “Don’t you understand? We’re homosexuals, and I just love him so much. I don’t know what I’d do without him.” I was perplexed about why he was so upset about being upset; I thought ANYONE would be concerned if a loved one was in medical peril. He finally told me that he was terrified that someone would find out they were a gay couple and do terrible things to them. It didn’t matter to me that they were gay, I was happy they loved one another. But it was a slap in the face to suddenly understand that other people would care, and would respond unkindly.

I have gay friends, and trans friends, and to me, they are just people. I am cognizant that there are terribly cruel people in the world, and it sickens me that they don’t accept other people for how they are.

And so, after this rant about racism and homophobia and transphobia, I want to add that my husband and I watched the documentary Patrice, The Movie last night. Trailer here. Highly recommended. It’s about some of the problems that disabled people face, including the inability to get married without losing their Social Security and Medicaid. JHMFC, they are just people like everyone else. They just need some accommodations.

This brings me to: we need stand as PEOPLE. Even if you cannot, for one reason or another, do the work of protesting and standing up, look for ways to support the people you know. Look inside yourself to find ways of being more accepting and KIND. Be sensitive to the idea that people may hide things because they fear what people will say and do. And cognizant that there are things that people cannot hide, like the color of their skin, or needing a wheelchair.

Like every other fascist regime, MAGA will start with the most marginalized, and move forward from there. We must stop them as soon as possible.

I leave you with this, from 1946.

First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist.

Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

—Martin Niemöller