What do you do when someone close to
you does something really stupid? In honor of the holiday season, my
mother sent out an email with a picture of Santa Claus being flanked
by two “elves” in blackface.
I am aware of the European tradition
of Black Pete but I am also aware of the tradition of racism that has
persisted in the United States and Europe for centuries. I don't
think I need to take a show of hands to determine that blackface in
any shape or form is racist. Period. Fuck your tradition and
heritage of ignorance, it's racist and if you try to defend it, you
are a racist. Period.
This leads to my quandary. If the
person who sent this picture to me were anyone but my mother, I would
have no problem writing them off and coming to the conclusion that I
didn't need to know them anymore. I have not been able to figure out
a way to even talk to her about it without hurting her feelings so I
haven't offered a response.
Part of me is hoping that she wasn't
wearing her glasses when she chose this image to be the one to send
out as a holiday greeting and only saw Santa with two elves. But I
also have to keep in mind that this behavior is coming from the
person who decided to show their animal-loving, vegetarian,
granddaughter pictures of a dead deer that was shot by some other
relative.
Another part of me is hoping that it's
alzheimer's or some other neurological disorder that comes with old
age. As heartbreaking as that would be, I think it might be better
than, “Wow, my mother is a racist” or “Wow, my mother doesn't
have a clue.”
I can no longer chalk these instances
up to being generational or some sort of Archie Bunker-ism. At 90+
years old, Norman Lear would be the first to tell you that Archie
Bunker and the ignorance of the character is what he was making fun
of when he created the character for All In The Family.
I have put a lot of work into removing
the racist undercurrents I was raised with from my programming. As
far as I can remember, there was never anything out in the open but
there was a lot of implied racism from both of my parents when I was
growing up. There was a lot of grumbling that went on when the
demographics of our neighborhood shifted. But they somehow forgot
that the neighborhood started to decline when the white trash element
moved in and there were broken down cars and abandoned couches
everywhere. When I attended predominately black elementary and
middle schools, the only times I was bullied or beaten up was by
white kids.
It's getting harder and harder to
spend time with my elders when they are constantly putting forth
their low-level vibes of white-supremacy and pining for the good old
days that never existed. Always saying that if it weren't for the
threat of nuclear war that those were the halcyon days of
civilization. Those times were great if you weren't black, a woman,
gay or any other minority but were hell on earth if you were. My
parents were never clubbed over the head or threatened with lynching
for the sole crime of wanting their existence to be acknowledged so
the perspective they have of their youth might be a little skewed.
This might be one of those instances
where I will need to swallow my furious anger and try to move past
this. But a piece of me says that if I let this slide, it is a moral
failure on my part. Is this really worth putting a strain on my
relationship with my mother when there are more years behind us than
in front of us? I don't know.
To quote Mr. Garrison, “Merry,
Fucking, Christmas.”
Here's the offending photo:
Here's an educational bit from the Jim Jefferies Show:
Here's a lyric video for a song off of Anti-Flag's new album:
No comments:
Post a Comment