The Ugly Word, Prejudice

  

I am not going to pretend that racism and prejudice disappeared, although there were SOME (not enough) strides being made. The "closet racists" seemed to be keeping their heads down (mostly) and I guess too many of us let down our guard THINKING things had gotten better.

 

But in the past few years some folks seem to think it is not only alright to be prejudiced, but it is now perfectly fine to shout it to the world. It's disgusting. People of color, females, LGBTQ, religious targets, and immigrants (even legal) have been targeted in both subtle and out-loud obnoxious words, acts and violence. There has also been a heightened suppression of freethought where real-life topics are considered taboo.

 

A few months ago, parents in a North Carolina school district complained and had a very favorably reviewed book pulled from the school's curriculum because they felt the content was too ugly instead of recognizing it as a story of moral failure and coming of age. Quite recently another North Carolina school district banned a book about racism and a black teenager trying to follow the teachings of Martin Luther King Jr. And these incidents are not limited to the deep south… Just this past week some Indiana parents were given the option to take their children out of Black History Month lessons. Meanwhile in NYC, Asians are being targeted for attacks.

 

I was recently intrigued by a notice of a church group in the Midwest that offered use of their database to search genealogy and ancestry. Since this is a topic I am very interested in, I thought I might sign up, however I took the time to read their "terms of use". Imagine my surprise when I read "You should not submit… those names gathered from unapproved extraction projects, such as Jewish Holocaust victims". I did ask rather pointedly if this group was "Holocaust deniers". I did get a replay saying "Not deniers… just you should only use names from those you have permission of" and that doesn't include deceased.

Yes, I took umbrage at that explanation, my family history includes those who were exterminated in the Nazi camps, and yes that also means many links to other relatives were lost as well. Since most genealogy searches include the past generations, many of whom are not living, maybe I am being sensitive, but I felt the comment was a direct hit on Holocaust victims, aka, Jews.

 

Growing up I was very aware that many of us practice different faiths even within the same family — and I was aware that we still could love and respect each other. Why is it so hard for others to accept the differences among family members, friends, neighbors, and our society as a whole. Why should the congregants of synagogues, black churches, and Islamic temples have to fear going to their house of worship? Why should the skin color(s) of a couple mean more than how they treat and respect each other? Why should women and men have pay disparities, or the wealthy be treated with any more respect than other incomes. Why should sexual preferences be a target of so-called moral outrage?

 

People are people. All hearts are red.

 

I Was Named for My Grandfather

 

In the Ashkenazi Jewish faith that I was raised in, it is customary to name a newborn baby for a deceased loved one — I was named for my maternal grandfather, Reuben. This tradition both honors the deceased, keeps them “alive” by connection, and it is believed helps to form a bond between the ancestor and the child.

 

I heard many wonderful stories about my grandfather and quite ironically, both my sister and I have very distinct memories of being read bedtime stories by him… even though he died long before either of us was born.

 

My grandfather was a loving man, a smart businessman, a devout Jew, and an actual HERO. Living in the Deep South, my mom grew up amidst many prejudices towards Jews, towards Blacks, and basically anyone who didn’t look the same. It was also customary for many families to have hired help in their homes, and most every housekeeper was Black. My grandma was criticized by her neighbors because she would often sit and have coffee with her housekeeper, and my mom and the housekeeper’s son would sometimes sit in the parlor and play board games together.

 

Mostly for safety reasons, the races did not normally mingle on the streets of the town they lived in, and no Black man was allowed to confront or get physical with a White person. Yet there was the one day my mom and a girlfriend had gone into town and were accosted by a couple of drunken White men who had stumbled out of a bar. They loudly told the men to keep their hands to themselves, but they wouldn’t listen.

 

As “luck” would have it, the housekeeper had sent her son into town to pick up groceries. The young man was across the street when he heard my mom and her friend yelling at the drunken men. One of the men had grabbed my mom’s friend by the arm and pulled her in tightly. At that point the housekeeper’s son ran across the street and loudly confronted the men. In both surprise and anger, the wrath of the drunks turned to this young Black man who firmly stood his ground and demanded that the two young ladies be left alone. The two girls walked up the street, followed by their rescuer who made sure that they were not harassed again.

 

That night when my grandfather returned home from work he found their housekeeper crying hysterically in my grandmother’s arms. They explained to him that there had been a death threat, a vow to lynch the young Black man for having the audacity to confront the White men; it didn’t matter that the White men were drunk and accosting White teenage girls. My grandmother had helped to hide the housekeeper’s son long enough to wait for my grandfather to come home and decide what to do.

 

That night my grandfather, a Jewish merchant in the south, contacted a friend in North Virginia and arranged for transport for this young man to somewhere in New York State. And then he rolled the young man up in a heavy carpet and tied the young man to the undercarriage of his delivery truck. He promised to bring the young man to safety, hoping that he would not get stopped along the way.

 

          My grandmother and the housekeeper kept a vigil at the kitchen table until the next morning when my grandfather walked in. He told the housekeeper that her son was safe and passed her money so that she could afford the transportation up north to join him.

 

          I watched the movie “The United States vs. Billie Holiday” on Netflix the other night and I was reminded of this heroic story my mom always told me. I am so proud to be named for my grandfather.

Billie Holiday sings "Strange Fruit"

 

 

 

The Link Between Hyphema and The Miss America Pageant

There's a lot of noise about Syracuse-born Nina Davuluri winning the Miss America title because of her heritage. It seems that her brown-skin makes her UN-American according to some rather vocal opponents. Davuluri was born to parents who emigrated from southeastern India before her birth.

It shouldn’t matter where Miss Davuluri was born or raised anyway. "I have to rise above (the hate). I always viewed myself as first and foremost American." Those were the words she spoke after vile diatribe hit the online world.

In Hyphema, Sudah Garratti was born in Pakistan (another Asian country). She was making the appropriate moves to earn her American citizenship and to vow her allegiance to everything the U.S.A. stands for. When Matt Garratti moved his family to North Carolina they were met with bigotry and misconceptions. One person compares Sudah to the 19 terrorists of 9/11, she’s called an “A-rab” and she’s looked at with undue suspicion when her own family is put in jeopardy. Her determination to earn her American citizenship, to be a good person and to love her husband and son is mocked simply because of her ethnicity.

I am certainly not attempting to trivialize Nina Davuluri’s situation or the loathsome and hateful statements made against her after being crowned Miss America. She is an American woman who is now in a position to be a role model, an emissary of our land, and an example of our American diversity. Sudah Garratti is a fictional character, but Sudah was the result of the same hatred exhibited in vile tweets and other comments after the pageant.

A few weeks ago I watched John Wayne’s The Searchers and I had to laugh when he “complimented” a tribal chief by saying “You speak good American for an Injun.” Certainly our Native Americans have a different perspective on the term “American through and through”. According to Wikipedia, in 2010 the (Native American) American Indian or Alaska Native population was less than one-percent. In 2007 there were approximately 38-million first-generation LEGAL immigrants. Our country is overwhelmingly inhabited with people and traditions that did not originate on our shores, we’ve blended cultures and families with a diverse and rich mix of heritage.

The pageant was filled with beautiful American women from varied backgrounds and ideologies, women who can be respected and admired for their intelligence, their uniqueness, and their commitment to principles. Each participant seemed worthy of her individual state title, but in the end only one could wear the crown. I applaud Nina Davuluri for being proud and understanding the ethnic roots her parents chose to plant in America and for earning the title of a true American beauty.

(references: A Lot Of People Are Very Upset That An Indian-American WomanWon The Miss America Pageant; Demographics of the United States, Wikipedia)

*In 1983 Vanessa Williams became the first African-American woman to wear the Miss America crown - there was a lot of hate mail and racist comments then too.

Hyphema

a review from Tracy Riva