A few summers ago I took my camera and headed on a little tour of places I like to visit and snapped a lot of photos. I don’t get to play around with photography as much as I want, but I have a little collection of favorites. The red door of the First Presbyterian Church in downtown Springfield is vibrant and stands out to me. The church is known for being the family church of the Abe Lincoln family when they lived here. Actually, this church houses the pew his family purchased (don’t get me started on that one) (or church, for that matter) and the Lincoln worshiped at the previous church before they moved the congregation and the pew to the new church.
I really liked the detail on this door so I tried to do a close up.
On the side of this building there is another door which, clearly, is no longer used. The wording of how they describe the fact that the door isn’t functional tickles me so much that I use it as a euphemism when thinking about other things that just “don’t work”.
This door not open. There’s just something about that phrase. Seemingly, it applies to so much and I just couldn’t get it out of my head after reading the comments on my writing about race. In fact, every time I even think about issues of race and realize the lengths we have to go for understanding of it in this country, this saying comes to mind. This door not open. With racism, it remains closed until someone walks up to the side of it and says, “Yes, I’ll open it and I’ll walk through it and talk about it because there has to be a way in somehow.” For me, the way in was just to tell a simple yet complicated story of my dad. Listening to the comments (and I’ve listened because I kept reading them aloud to friends or anyone who wanted to talk about it the last few days) have shifted something in me.
One commenter, Caoilini wrote, “It would have caused a pang before being a mom, sure, but now it sets off a whole range of intense emotions. And a fierce determination to teach my children how not to be like those bigoted fools.”
Robin wrote, “I actually want to share this entry with all of my White friends who have family that are clearly racist, but excuse their racism with “Well, they’re from another generation, you understand that, right?” (when that generation is the Baby Boomers) or “Well, you have to understand that they’re never around any Black people, so of course they’re going to be nervous around you.” What am I? An alien? Did Black people just descend onto earth like District 9?
Maybe if they read this story – even if it’s just for a minute – they can walk a mile in your shoes (and your family’s shoes) and realize that ignorance really is a choice, not something you’re born with.”
Aviatrixt said, “We are taking over. I might not be of the same mixed heritage, but I can tell you, we are taking over. Whatever that means.” Mr. Lady echoed her sentiments: “People like us ARE taking over.”
Maybe the only comment that got an audible laugh from me (followed by a Hmm, Maybe I Will) was from Kelli from South City Confidential who wrote: “I fucking love you. Write your memoirs, already.”
Both Liz from Mom-101 and Deb from Deb on the Rocks mentioned that being able to “pass” isn’t limited to light-skinned blacks, but also to Jews and Lesbians and anyone in the Other category.
Finally, a childhood friend of mine, Meeghan, wrote this: “Hey Kelly, I remember when we took you guys camping with us when we were little, you and I were in line to ride a water slide and some kid called us Niggers. That was the first time I was ever called that. I remember it like yesterday though.”
Sadly, I remember that day with Meeghan all too well. What began as a simple camping trip with family friends that included two Black fathers, two White mothers, and four mixed daughters ended up being a painful time because it smacked us right in the face. It was the same trip I got a scar on my foot from falling from the ladder of the water slide, but the other scar cut deeper. Like most people, I remember every single time I have ever been called a nigger. It’s not a memory that goes away and it is a sting that you bury and hope it stays behind a door that will never open until someone bursts through it by flinging that slur around. Eternally, you wish it wouldn’t spring open, but it does.
You wish that racism remains a door that “not open”. That door open, and every time we all speak up about it then maybe it’ll finally, firmly, stay closed.
March 24, 2010 @ 7:55 pm | Filed under All Black Folks Do NOT Look Alike, Artsy Fartsy | Permalink | Comments (22)
Amie aka MammaLoves Said,
March 24, 2010 @ 8:10 pm
As you know this is a topic near and dear to my heart. As a mother, don’t even go there. I would rip someone’s eyes out.
But sunshine does cure a lot, doesn’t it?
Amie aka MammaLoves Said,
March 24, 2010 @ 8:10 pm
Sunshine meaning, shining light on issues…
Average Jane Said,
March 24, 2010 @ 8:12 pm
I’ve thought about your initial post a lot over the past couple of days and it made certain things click into place for me about my husband’s family that I hadn’t truly understood from my position of privilege.
His grandparents on his mother’s side were from Mexico, but many of his aunts and uncles changed their last name, Ambriz, to Ambrose (Anglicized) or Ambrosi (to fit in with the large Italian community where they lived). I was always puzzled as to why they all used to insist that they were “Spanish” as if the word “Mexican” were something to be ashamed of. (Some even lived out their lives insisting they were Italian. One of my husband’s adult cousins – now in her early 50s – still has a hard time grasping that her father wasn’t really Italian.)
Now I realize just how tragic it is that they found it necessary to put so much effort into distancing themselves from their heritage. It’s even worse when you consider that things haven’t changed substantially for the Hispanic community in the U.S. since then.
Deana Birks Said,
March 24, 2010 @ 8:46 pm
@ Average Jane, Ironically there is a slur for Italians that sounds like “Diego” and implies that they are Mexican (wow, a slur that implies that one race = another race…the race issue is totally warped).
I have actually met elderly white people who consider Italians nonwhite and one of them once lashed out that I had ordered *pizza* saying they don’t eat any of that **** food.
LaughingMouse Said,
March 24, 2010 @ 8:56 pm
Mocha Momma, maybe, for some of us, the way to get that door to open, is to go in the OTHER door to that “place” and push the locked door open from the inside. I’d like to think that’s what I do from my “born-into-it” position of privilege. Push on it from the inside until that little bit of metal holding it closed cracks and breaks.
Or even just talking about how ridiculous it is that ANY door is close to just about anyone anymore!
Tina@Send Chocolate Now Said,
March 24, 2010 @ 9:53 pm
It makes me so angry that children (and adults for that matter!) have to suffer through that kind of pain simply because they have a different shade of melanin. It is incomprehensible to me.
That anyone makes fun of anyone for simply being different than they are just flummoxes me. But.
The good news is that there are people out there, me being one of them, who are teaching our children differently. And the time for that ignorance is coming to a close. It will take a while, but I believe in my youngest child’s generation (she’s
that racism will become an extreme fringe view. When you know better, you do better.
So says me. Thanks for writing this, Kelly. It’s a great topic that needs to be addressed. There is NO excuse for racism.
Tweets that mention Mocha Momma » This Door Not Open -- Topsy.com Said,
March 25, 2010 @ 1:50 am
[...] This post was mentioned on Twitter by mochamomma, Jodi Clark. Jodi Clark said: Must read blog! by @mochamomma Final thoughts on the post about race. http://u.nu/86sv7 Well, for now. I'm betting I'll say more sometime. [...]
dawn Said,
March 25, 2010 @ 7:26 am
It scares me to think that that word will some day be hurled at my two children. It saddens me that I cannot shield them from the ugliness of the world and those who think skin color implies something.
I’ll be “calling” you the first time it happens for sage advice. How was your mom able to help/respond to those incidents? I ask for selfish reasons and hope that I’ll be able to lend my children the support they will need to deal with incidents of racism. Any wisdom you have is most welcome.
Thank yo for providing a forum and safe space for these types of conversations.
Mateo Said,
March 25, 2010 @ 7:31 am
@mocha a few weeks ago I was wondering around with the family (my lil man and wife) my son was into his video game, when I turned to her and said “I know it’s wrong to say, but our son will have an easier life, just because of his shade.” While many say that he is a spitting image of me, he is a few shades lighter than me. As a parent is hurts to feel that while my son is intelligent that at some point he may be looked upon because of his skin tone, which may turn out to his advantage or disadvantage. I was born and raised in NYC and can’t say I’ve had the experiences you have, yet I’m old enough to say that it’s out there. My older siblings grew up in NYC during the 60’s and recall stories of family trips down south, suffice to say there sad. Many like to say those times are gone but that’s just bullshit, it’s just behind close doors. I’m all for pride in your heritage and your roots but to look down upon, or pass judgement on someone just on skin tone is just crazy. Like I said it honestly hurt to tell my wife that.
Lu Said,
March 25, 2010 @ 7:54 am
Reading this post, I suddenly had a vivid memory. I was the only black girl in my high school the last two years I was there. Yes, the ONLY one. I knew this, believe me, I knew it, but I did not live my life as if I were any different, until my white friends pointed it out. Well, one night a girlfriend and I went out to eat and some black kids were being typical kids at the restaurant. It really pissed her off. So much so, when we got in the car to head home, she could not let their behavior go. She looked at me and said, “That kind of shit pisses me off! Don’t take offense to this, but they were acting like a bunch of niggers.” This was the first time any one of my white friends had ever used a racial slur around me. I can not tell you I ever looked at her the same after that. The fact that she felt comfortable enough to say that to me AND to tell me to not take offense to it made me vividly see that in her eyes, when we would have a falling out, I was a nigger. I do not have a lot of female friends for various reasons, but I am careful with the ones I do have and how closely I allow them to get to me. You do not tell a friend to not take offense, use a slur and claim to be their friend. That is total bullshit.
Why this post brought that memory back, I am not sure, but I can tell you this…I have forgiven her for that.
Brooke Said,
March 25, 2010 @ 9:26 am
My kids are biracial – depending on the time of year, they may or may not ‘pass’. My son (4) is outside so much in the summertime that he is almost as dark as my husband. Some days I wonder how old he will be before racial slurs are hurled at him. Other days, my husband gets frustrated because he’s so light that people wonder whether or not he’s his father.
He came home from preschool a few months ago and noted that he is “yellow” and “light” and that he and another biracial child in his class “match”. While I realize it’s ok that he notices these differences, I wonder what age the words that people around him use will change. I wonder if it will be a stranger or a friend.
This is one of many things that I wish I didn’t have to think about.
Indigo Said,
March 25, 2010 @ 12:31 pm
Reading you is a breathe of fresh air. No-one should ever find the need to be ashamed of who they are, no one should ever be given the opportunity to make them feel that way. (Hugs) Indigo
May we find a way to open all the closed doors in our lives. (Hugs)Indigo
Angie Said,
March 25, 2010 @ 6:24 pm
As always, you did it again. You are a brilliant writter, who pulls a story together using your own experiences that effects so many lives. You draw out of a deep emotion starting from within then easing into a finish that ties it all into a total package; leaving me wanting to read more. Albeit, saying all that you needed to say. I have always told you that I want to see a book from you. I have always been proud of you!!! I am in no way a critic, and please don’t take me as such – know that I love you and encourage you and totally can relate to this piece!!! Angie W.
Aviatrixt Said,
March 26, 2010 @ 7:38 am
For serious–write your memoirs already!
Also, I know it’s silly, but I gave you a “blog award” in my latest post. I’m not sure whether or not these things are the blog equivalent of a chain letter, so feel free to just soak in the awesomesauciness and go about your day.
schmutzie Said,
March 26, 2010 @ 11:50 am
This weblog is being featured on Five Star Friday!
http://www.schmutzie.com/fivestarfriday/2010/3/26/five-star-fridays-big-fat-edition-96.html
alejna Said,
March 27, 2010 @ 9:37 pm
This series of posts is so powerful. I’m really glad to have read them, as well as so many of the comments you’ve gotten.
(And thank you for stopping by my blog a couple days ago!)
MrDuez Said,
March 28, 2010 @ 11:01 am
Momma, so I am guessing that you would be very opposed to students using the N-word. Is that something you encounter at your school? How do you deal with it? I’ve heard many adults ignore it, especially white adults who think it’s not their business if it’s a black to black conversation. Sadly, I think that is just the same as telling them they may keep doing it. You are either part of the solution or part of the problem, IMHO.
Nice writing here.
Aimee Greeblemonkey Said,
March 31, 2010 @ 11:12 pm
oh lord I love you.
TSM 30somethingandcrazy Said,
April 2, 2010 @ 12:18 pm
I haven’t read the other post yet. I’m rising above my own pool of crap and distracting myself with catching up on people I love. Like YOU. You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen ( no lie! ) and I have to say, I actually once thought to myself, ‘I wish I was half black. Such beautiful skin…eyes…’ without realizing what that meant. I am so sorry I haven’t given it the thought it deserves.
One of the many things I am so sorry for. I hope that each time I have cautioned my children they were approaching a line of bigotry to back the %#%@ away from it and be respectful, that each time I have explained to my smaller children why we look different I was respectful enough. Dutiful enough to show them to stand up when others will not.
And yet I know it is never really enough.
Love you much.
-T
Howdy Said,
April 2, 2010 @ 1:27 pm
Oh my lord, this brought tears to my eyes.
muskrat Said,
April 5, 2010 @ 6:36 pm
Why do you think black rappers and athletes call each other that word, then? My gay friends sure as hell don’t call each other “faggot.”
jennyonthespot Said,
April 6, 2010 @ 11:31 am
Can we go South together… I LONG for Greece… *someday*
Re: racism… I am a whitey whiterson. I grew up in a town with a large Hispanic population. I was in the minority as far as color. I never noticed a difference… 2 white parents, but our mix of family friends was just that – mixed. I never noticed skin.
Until 4th grade, when I revealed to a boy I liked him. He said, “I don’t like white girls. I only like brown ones.” I was all, “Whu?”
It wasn’t dramatic… he was snotty and condescending, but not hateful. He still talked to me. But that made a huge impact on me. That was the first day I ever noticed skin color.
Clearly racism is stupid. Good post… you are lovely.