In the course of managing this political blog and becoming involved in our local tea party group, I’ve had the honor of meeting and corresponding with several exemplary Americans who I would not have met otherwise.
One of these fine folks is Lloyd Marcus … the singer, song writer, author, and President of the NAACPC (National Association for the Advancement of Conservative People of Color). His songs include: “We The People”, “American Tea Party Anthem”, and more recently “Twenty Ten”.
About three weeks ago, I watched a video he’d just completed entitled “Lloyd Marcus: Black Conservative”. It’s a touching story of his youth discussing racism, conservatism, and the value systems that parents impart to us.
I was so moved by his openness that I felt compelled to share with him a memory regarding racism from my own youth. Until that point, I had only shared it over the years with a handful of close friends. He replied asking if he could include it in his upcoming book.
Before you read the following account from my childhood, please understand that it includes some racial slurs and light profanity. If either these issues concern you, please stop now. However for the sake of accuracy, it must be conveyed as it happened.
After about two months, one afternoon six ladies from the neighborhood came to the door. My mom and I were watching TV. Dianne was over at the black girl’s house. My dad was at work.
They asked if they could come in to discuss a “serious” matter with my mom about my sister. She replied, “sure”. Then, she asked me to go to my room. I walked down the hall, but then tip-toed up to the edge to find out what kind of trouble my sister was in. I pondered, “It must be really bad for all of these women to come to our house about it.”
As I listened, one of them acted primarily as the spokesperson for the group. She apprised my mom that Dianne had been playing with the “little nigger girl” next door. My mom exclaimed, “Really, are you sure?” They each confirmed it, one by one. One of them added that, in fact, she was “in the nigger’s yard right now playing on their swing.” My mom asked, “How long has this been going on?”
The one lady talked for several minutes itemizing “incidents” they had witnessed. Occasionally, my mom would reply, “My daughter did THAT with the little nigger girl?”
I was shocked. My parents were adamant about not being judgmental about a person’s skin color. They would say things like “Don’t look at a person’s skin color, listen to what they say … and, more importantly, look at what they do.” I had never once heard either one of my parents use the word “nigger”. So … I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Was I seeing a side of my very mild-mannered mom that she had been hiding from me?
I blanked out on their conversation for a couple of minutes as I considered the implications of this possibility. And, besides, I knew my mom was aware that Dianne was over there … she was very protective of us. My mom was a substitute teacher at my school … to keep an eye on us. I was puzzled.
Then, I heard my mom raise her voice in anger, “So … I need to go over there RIGHT NOW and yank her silly ass back home and set her straight about those niggers. Is that what you’re telling me?”
I heard these “ladies” confirming, “yes”, “of course”, “sure”, and “don’t be too hard on her”. I think one of them even hugged my mom … apparently in sympathy.
My mom then responded, “Thank you SO MUCH for letting me know about what’s been going on around here. We’re gonna have a serious talk with her when her father gets home tonight. It’s SO GOOD to know that my neighbors are keeping watch on my daughter.”
I simply could not believe the way my mom was talking.
Then, as they all stood to leave, my mom asked another question. “You know those niggers have that german shepherd puppy. He comes over here and both of my kids play with him. Do you ladies think it would be okay for Luke and Dianne to continue playing with THAT dog?”
There was silence for a few seconds. Then the spokesperson replied, “Sure, there shouldn’t be any harm in that.” The others agreed.
As my mom started escorting them out the door, I peaked around the corner of the hall.
Just as they were all outside, my mom stepped onto the porch and shouted. “So … my kids can play with the black people’s dog, but they can NOT play with the black girl. That DOG is more acceptable to you than that LITTLE GIRL!!! You are a bunch of racist pigs. What I AM CONCERNED ABOUT is my children being exposed to such HATRED from you CHRISTIAN ladies. Tomorrow we are putting a ‘no trespassing’ sign in our yard. If ANY ONE OF YOU EVER steps foot in OUR yard again, I will call the police on you and I will shoot you with my son’s BB rifle while I’m waiting for them to arrive. Get the HELL off of my property!!!”
In that moment, I realized what my mom had been up to. I was not only proud of her not being a ‘fake’, but also of her clever strategy. Today, I am more proud of her for that lesson than I can express with words.
She passed away four years ago. To this very day, my eyes water when I recall this incident.
That night, my mom told me about us being 1/8 Cherokee indian. She told me about her grandmother being 1/2 indian and 1/4 black. She told me about the racism she’d witnessed as a child and how ashamed she was of the way people behaved toward indians and blacks when she was growing up. She, herself, was very white-skinned … almost albino.
BTW, we moved after about a year. But … during that year we had regular Saturday grill-outs with that black family … sometimes in their yard, sometimes in ours. My parents wanted the neighborhood to KNOW that these were GOOD people. But, virtually no one in the neighborhood, including their kids, ever spoke with us on friendly terms again. But … a few did.
Yes; just as you state in your video, Lloyd … parents do make a difference in the lives and moral compass of their children.
The day that Lloyd replied back to me, a friend of mine, a black man, had died of a heart attack. His name was Elton Johnson. He was a good man and a good friend.
As it turns out, a few years ago, he was also one of the few people that I’d shared this story with (until now). I was on a business trip in Clearwater, FL. He and his girlfriend drove down. He and I were reminiscing on the balcony drinking a couple of beers. When I told him … this big muscular man … his eyes watered … there we were … a couple of MEN downing brewskies with our eyes tearing up like babies.
How do we defeat racism? We do it one person at a time. As Martin Luther King phrased it, we judge people not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character. Do we have prejudice toward one another regarding hair color or eye color? Of course not. So … why should we have prejudice toward one another regarding skin color?
We defeat racism first in our own hearts. And, parents have the primary responsibility to teach this basic principle to our children.
Social justice is a feeble attempt by politicians to legislate what we each should feel in our own hearts … love and respect for our fellow man. We’ve come a long way in the last 50 years, but it our responsibility today … each one of us … to not look at a person’s skin color, but instead to listen to what they say … and, more importantly, look at what they do.
Good-bye Elton, my dear friend.
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This entry was posted by LukeAmerica2020 on Tuesday; August 18th, 2009 at 1:00 am and is filed under Historical Perspective, Racism.
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Tags: Lloyd Marcus, Racism.
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