Last Saturday night, during dinner at my host's "cabin" at Heber Springs I had the misfortune of sitting next to a person consumed with hate. In the midst of a seemingly harmless conversation about college loans and scholarships, Mr. Racist Pig blurts out the "n" word. I find it shocking that this old man would assume it is okay to use that term in front of a complete stranger who he has only just met. After he spewed his hatred there was a long stretch of silence. I don't look at any of the other 8 people sitting at the table because I was staring down at my plate, unsure of what to do. My boyfriend was the person he directly addressed so he just weakly nodded.
It's one thing to battle your own racist demons. But to experience that hatred in such pure and virile form sitting directly next to you chowing down on spaghetti is unnerving. It got my wheels spinning. Am I more like this man than I think? How did he end up that way? Is racism just fear disguised as hate?
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Racism isn't a demon if you consider it your friend. By that I mean that on the racist's totem pole, you & I are waaaaay below that guy. Even though we are all essentially racist until we cannot see race as a distinguishing factor. Or whatevah.
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