Jersey Girl wrote:I read through your post. My instant reaction to the following.
MeDotOrg wrote:People say they are afraid of losing their way of life, but what they are afraid of is a world where their way of life is not the dominant one.
But we stole it to the detriment of others.
White Americans are losing the preeminence of their standing within the American culture, and for some it feels like the death of America.
It feels like the birth of America to me. It feels like those who did without, who were marginalized, and who were brought here literally against their will could finally have a chance to feel free.
I think I fit into the category of people that you are referring to. Older white Americans. I think I have the mind or spirit of a child who believes that everyone can and deserves to be happy, safe and loved. And everything that goes wrong happens because they aren't. Don't believe me? Look at Trump. Half the world despises the man and the other half loves him because he's as screwed up as they are. Trump didn't create himself and neither did they.
Childhood was everything to me. I thought I was poor. Looking back, I was rich. As a child I recall hearing my father referring to the "jigaboos" in Newark. He worked with them and knew their families, and even though he used that term, I never heard or thought that he hated or despised them. He didn't use the word with malice. When he knew they needed something, he helped them out.
My mother never spoke that way, not ever. And, it was through her that I had an opportunity to know the women that she worked with. They were her good friends. White women, Asian, Black, and one woman in particular who made a strong impression on me. She was from Latvia, a refugee of war. Ma took me to her house once to do her hair. I was a cosmetology student at the time. Valva didn't like to venture out of the house much unless it was to work or for groceries. She was soft spoken and nervous. While I did her hair, she told stories of how she hid from Nazis. She served us baked potatoes for lunch. I loved those.
I was strongly influenced by people helping people. Wanting to know people and their stories is part of who I am.
So although I get what you're saying about the generation and even though I recall the turbulence of civil rights movement, the protests, the race riots and all. I don't think I ever bought into the white is right thing.
Humble beginnings and all that. People knowing people as people. The landscape of my background is filled with people of various ethnicities, religions, people who were impaired in some way or had hardships--alcoholics, addicts, unwed mothers, adulterers, abused and neglected children, interracial couples, unmarried couples, married couples, domestic violence in certain homes, disabled folks, folks with dementia, folks in trouble with the law, mentally ill--just full of imperfect people. One of them is me. I have relationships with some gay folks now. I'm learning about them. They got into my heart.
The only kind of person I don't know or knowingly have a relationship with is a murderer, but who knows. People don't tell me everything. I'm not aware of one. My father was incarcerated as a teen and then a young man. I didn't know about it until long after he died and I was married and gone. I don't think he killed anyone.
I don't know why some folks feel like they're "up here" and others are "down there". Insecurity? Fear? Ego? Someone taught them to think that way. It sickens me. I had some people treat me that way as a child. I know what it's like when people try to make you feel like you are less.
Tell you what, when your town burns down or is flooded to crap, everyone is on the same level and you better be digging each other out. We should be living that way every single day of our lives and I don't know why we can't.
I'm posting this. I don't care if it fits here.