11) My Racist Childhood

As I continue to ponder how I can do more to create change in this moment in history, I've decided that I want to talk about my childhood, and some of the racist ideology that I grew up and was taught both overtly and covertly. I don't do this to shame anyone. I don't do this to make people angry - although that may be a side result. I do this because if we don't talk about how racism is taught to young people in this country, how it is justified and disguised, we will never learn how to dismantle it. 

In order to understand the way that racism was taught to me, you have to understand that I was brought up in a very religious household, and was taught a sort of extreme theology of the evangelical Christian church. My dad taught us that the white settlers were given this land in the same way that the Hebrews were "given the land of Israel in the Old Testament", and that "the slaves benefited from their master's bounty. Native Americans don’t deserve this land - they’re pagans - idol worshipers!” While this may sound crazy put so bluntly, this concept, of American “exceptionalism” - originally conceived in a now famous sermon in 1630 by Puritan minister John Winthrop - has evolved and been twisted over the years to justify our two original sins - stolen land and slavery. We were taught that America had, and still has, God's special blessing. Interestingly, the original concept of a “city set on a hill”, a reference to Matthew 5:14 in which Jesus calls his disciples to be “salt and light” in the world as part of the Sermon on the Mount, emphasized Christian charity and accountability for behavior. Winthrop was using the “city” image as a way to say, “Look, we’re here in this new land and everyone knows we’re Christians. The world is watching and if we mess up, not only will we be disgraced but this new nation will be as well.” Interesting and prophetic in retrospect. But that is not how that sermon has been remembered. Rather, presidents and American leaders in the late 20th and 21st century have turned it into a political punchline to claim that America is indeed, exceptional.

But of course when I was a small child, I didn’t understand any of this, and the argument was made very simply to me as a love of country. In some ways this is odd. My dad had actually been a conscientious objector during the Vietnam War, and yet both my parents tended to glorify things that spoke of military might and power. We didn't have cable television in our house, but my parents got it under three different circumstances - the Olympics, during a Presidential Election, and when there was a war in the late 1990’s. It may have been accidental, as many things were in my parents’ life, but I felt like it still said something about their priorities. I have this one distinct memory of the day President H. W. Bush declared we were going to war after the invasion of Kuwait - Desert Storm - and we were all whooping and hollering in our house - turning up the radio to hear the announcement, and getting excited to see it all on cable. I can't say I'm an expert on racism, but from my experience, a comfortable relationship with violence (and yes, I do consider war violence - I hope you do as well) is one of the defining characteristics of people who can justify it. I think a big reason for that is because of the way that it requires people to distance the “other”, which of course is integral to racism.

When I was about 12 or 13, I was sent to a summer camp in the Sierra Nevada Mountains with some friends, run by the John Birch Society. If you don’t know what The John Birch Society is, never fear - it just means you’re a normal person who’s not involved in conspiracy theories, the study of far-right ideological organizations, etc. so let me explain. The JBS is a far right, anti-communist, extremist group that believes all government is a "deep state" and is part of a vast conspiracy intended to control and subdue the population. In between hiking and water rafting, my friends and I would watch videos telling us that "The Illuminati" were trying to control us, everyone was a secret Communist (pretty much - JBS essentially ran the McCarthy show), the government hated all Christians, and the founding fathers of this country were essentially perfect in all respects. But an underlying message of the JBS, along with all far right organizations, is their racist ideologies. While no one stood up and said "We don't like people who aren't white", the message was clear. Throughout the history of the organization, anyone in government who worked for civil rights was opposed. Being "politically correct" was abhorrent. There were no minorities in the JBS. It was a purely white agenda. 

But, aside from crazy moments like getting inducted into the youth chapter of the JBS, I would say one of the biggest ways that my parents communicated unconscious racist ideas was how they glorified the past. This is such a tricky thing to talk about, because I think parents often want to share their youth - and what they remember as “the good days” with their children, and if their parents have shared good memories or stories from their parents, to hand those down as well. Generations have done this throughout the ages. It’s how and why stories exist. But of course, how you share history - not just your history - but all history - with your children - says a lot about what you believe about the world. I think my parents genuinely believed (and believe!) that the past is a better place, a better time, and wanted to share it with us. We watched a lot of black and white movies growing up, because my parents felt like older movies were safer and cleaner and "less violent and sex-filled" than modern movies. (the irony here is not lost on me) I still love classic movies, and I think a lot of them are worth seeing. But there are two ways that you can view old movies, and the narrative we were given was very much the MAGA narrative - if only our country were as great as it was then. Times were simpler. People knew who they were. Mom's place was in the house. Dad's place was at work, and kids did what they were told. And surprise surprise! Black people only appeared as servants, and they seemed completely happy. Unfortunately, that was the message we got, and our parents didn't dissuade us from believing it.

I’m not going to speculate or explain my parents’ motives or actions, since they’re both very much alive and can do that for themselves. I do want to say this, though. In my experience, racism is often an expression of fear of someone different from ourselves; it’s a way that we scapegoat, and say “this face, this tribe, this skin, this country is to blame for my suffering”. I don’t know what it feels like to be feared or hated because of my race, but I do know up close and personal what it feels like to live with someone who hates themselves, and has generational trauma that has not been dealt with. You simply can’t love or accept another person if you don’t know how to love or accept yourself. While the system of racism needs to be dismantled as a system, the white people who make up that system need to have their own individual, authentic encounters with healing and forgiveness.

I don’t have a nice, neat way to finish this post. I think I’m hoping that by talking about what is difficult and shameful, it will give everyone more courage to do the same. In my next post, I’m going to talk more about how religion has been weaponized by racists, because for a long time I wanted nothing to do with any religion. I’m also going to talk about how I learned to think critically about the beliefs I’d been given as a child. I’m curious if there are others out there reading this who’ve had similar childhoods, who’ve come out of them still loving their families but having complicated relationships with the people who raised them. It was difficult to write this. I hope I’m not alone in sharing.