Langston Hughes–American poet, social activist, novelist, playwright, and columnist–posed these questions in his 1951 poem “Dream Deferred”:
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore–
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over–
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
My question is what happens to a prejudice when it’s no longer legal to exercise it openly. Does it go away? Do old attitudes change immediately? Can a law require people to respect each other? Do laws have anything to do with bigotry, or is prejudice a dark part of the human condition, lying dormant in each of us? Can laws erase prejudice or only forbid its open expression? A popular expression in the 1960s was “You can’t legislate morality.” The longer I’ve lived the more I understand and agree with that statement. Laws don’t make people good. Good people make good laws and govern themselves by high standards which can’t be externally imposed.
Racial injustice is written into the earliest pages of American history, including the genocide of Native Americans and a two-and-a-half-century slave trade. The first African slave ship arrived in the Jamestown colony of America in 1619, bringing extra hands to labor in the tobacco fields and other fields that produced lucrative crops for the enterprising colonists. Let that sink in for a moment. The slaves were here one year before the Pilgrims and eleven years before the Puritans, the two groups who established the New England states.
From 1619 until 1862 when the Emancipation Proclamation was published and 1865 when the ratification of the 13th Amendment made emancipation the law of the land, the kidnapped Africans were property of white planters who amassed fortunes on the backs of their laborers. Dark-skinned people in America were not citizens and had none of the rights of citizenship or residence, including the right to be educated or to be accorded the personal respect and dignity due every human being. They were just property at the disposal of powerful whites.
From 1865 to 1965, the “free” black citizens lived under Jim Crow laws: ordinances enacted by local and state governments in the South to ensure that people of color continued to be denied the full rights of their citizenship. These laws established a system of segregation that was strictly enforced for a whole century after the Civil War ended and the 13th Amendment was passed. People of color lived in fear for their lives and safety if they strayed the least bit from their adherence to these oppressive laws.
Schools and churches were segregated, blacks could not use the same restrooms or water fountains as whites, blacks were required to sit in the rear seats on public transportation, they were denied entrance to restaurants and public libraries, and they were subjected to numerous other indignities unimaginable to most of us in 2016.
In addition to government-sanctioned segregation, oppression, and violence, other organizations took it upon themselves to help keep “freed” blacks living in fear and subjection, most prominent among them the Ku Klux Klan. A group of Confederate veterans from Pulaski, Tennessee, wasted no time making sure there would be a force in place to prevent the “freed” blacks from exercising the rights of their newly conferred citizenship; they formed the original Ku Klux Klan in 1866, less than a year after the Civil War had ended. According to History.com,
The Ku Klux Klan (KKK) extended into almost every southern state by 1870 and became a vehicle for white southern resistance to the Republican Party’s Reconstruction-era policies aimed at establishing political and economic equality for blacks. Its members waged an underground campaign of intimidation and violence directed at white and black Republican leaders. Though Congress passed legislation designed to curb Klan terrorism, the organization saw its primary goal–the reestablishment of white supremacy–fulfilled through Democratic victories in state legislatures across the South in the 1870s.
It’s interesting to note that the Republican Party, Party of Lincoln, was the one at that time fighting for equal rights, whereas now they’re the ones who’ve lost their minds and are supporting the oppression of everyone they deem threatening—which is pretty much everyone except white heterosexuals, with bonus points for being male.
But back to the KKK, they’ve gone through periods of decline, popping up again whenever their white supremacist ideals seem threatened. Over the course of the century and a half the Klan has existed, they’ve added immigrants, Catholics, Jews, and organized labor to their hit list. As everyone is well aware, these are not peaceful protesters; their vitriolic, violent attacks have ranged from protests and intimidation to bombings and lynchings.
Echoing Langston Hughes’s question, my question is what happened to all of that hatred and prejudice when the Civil Rights Act of 1964 outlawed discrimination based on race, color, religion, national origin, and sex. Did everyone start treating blacks, immigrants, Muslims, and women with respect? We all know the answer to that one. Did the KKK disband? Unfortunately not; we’ve been hearing frequently that they are still very much alive and active. Did white supremacists become nice, kind people tolerant of all races? That didn’t happen either.
It seems what happened is that prejudice went underground. It became socially unacceptable to express open hostility toward those whom we label as “other.” Many of us began trying to look at the world through the eyes of the oppressed and to learn different ways of treating our fellow humans. Many others, however, gave only grudging lip service to acceptance and equality while continuing to harbor prejudice in their hearts and minds; and among those of like mind, they even felt the freedom to express their prejudice out loud.
The term “dog whistle” has become a familiar phrase: an expression of hatred and intolerance inaudible to some but clearly heard by others, coded to bypass the censorship and judgment of the more enlightened, the ones trying to rise above those base instincts. The so-called “birther movement” has been labeled a dog-whistle strategy aimed at setting apart our first black president as “other,” as not one of us.
As a nation, we have congratulated ourselves on our progress in race relations since we have been legally bound to equal rights for all. We tell ourselves that we used to be a culture which discriminated against races other than whites, but we’ve gotten over that; we’ve conquered our baser instincts and become a better people. All of that discrimination was in our past, or at least that’s what we desperately want to believe. The view of the white majority eager to absolve ourselves from the guilt of our past sins, however, is not shared by people of color whose life experiences tell a very different story.
A few years ago, a dear friend and colleague of African descent told me that when he drives from Florida to his home state of North Carolina, he knows where it’s not safe for him to stop. He told me that in the 21st century, less than sixteen years ago. Another African-American friend who is married to a white man is still nervous about holding her husband’s hand in public. According to CNN, a high school in Georgia held its first integrated prom in 2014, and another school in Mississippi waited until 2009 to integrate this annual school event.
Those of us who were trying to learn how to be better human beings began paying attention to language, to the ways we talk about each other. We made the N word socially unacceptable; we decided people should have the right to decide for themselves what they prefer to be called. We learned that words matter because words inform attitudes. It’s easy to mistreat someone you’ve dehumanized by referring to them as a N—-, not as easy when you’ve accorded them the dignity of a respectful title which acknowledges their humanity and equality.
When the people in your closest social circle are accepting and respectful of all people groups, it’s easy to assume everyone thinks and acts like you and yours. It’s shocking to hear rants coming out of a fellow citizen that sound like throwbacks to a century or more in the past. Those who live in the dark recesses of a culture that has tried to move on, to evolve, feel increasingly left out, disrespected, made to feel small because they harbor attitudes which they can’t freely express for fear of being ostracized or legally penalized. While some of us consider changes in our language and attitudes a matter of courtesy and respect for others, those in that angry subculture scorn and chafe under the constraint of what they call “political correctness.”
This evolution toward tolerance and equality requires a constant learning process even for the most devout. When we first hear “black lives matter,” some may not immediately understand why it’s necessary to remind anyone of what seems to be a given. But those who want to be better human beings and to live in a culture of equality, tolerance, respect, and kindness take the time to listen and learn and to hear the narratives as told by those who need to be assured that their lives matter. While we’re listening and learning, however, others are becoming more angry and resentful over being required to publicly conform to politically correct attitudes which they have not internalized.
Then along comes a demagogue who says, “I get it. I’m one of you. That political correctness stuff is just BS. Elect me your leader, and we’ll take America back to a period of greatness when we white men were supreme and everyone else bowed to us. We’ll deport a bunch of people, we’ll deny entrance to a bunch of people, and we’ll make America white again. By allying ourselves with the alt-right and securing endorsement and support from the KKK, the NRA, and the other darkest parts of the subculture, we’ll reinvent racism and make bigotry great again.”
There is clearly a civil war going on, which we can only hope will never see a battlefield, but which is just as divisive and polarizing as the Civil War of 150 years ago. One side aims to protect its turf by guarding its right to own as many weapons as possible and hoping to elect a leader who legitimizes their bigotry. What is the weapon of the other side, of those who want justice and equality for all, who want to keep what IS great in America and fix the things we still need to work on, without losing what we’ve already gained?
Mahatma Gandhi is often credited for saying “Be the change you want to see in the world.” That’s not what he actually said, but it’s still a good principle to live by. Here’s what he really said, which I think is even better:
We but mirror the world. All the tendencies present in the outer world are to be found in the world of the body. If we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world could also change. As a man changes his own nature, so does the attitude of the world change towards him. This is the divine mystery supreme. A wonderful thing it is and the source of our happiness. We need not wait to see what others do.
There’s the weapon: Change yourself; change your nature. There’s a little bit of prejudice in all of us, and change doesn’t come easily or quickly, but we can all do it.
Jesus told us to love God and love other people. When we love God, we’re seeing the world as something bigger than ourselves. Those who don’t acknowledge God still need to see the world as bigger than themselves and equally inclusive of everyone in it. We all need to remove ourselves from the center of the universe and make our organizing principle our love of God or love of the universe or love of the planet that gave birth to us and nurtures us.
Then we need to learn to look at everyone who shares this vast space with us as equal recipients of God’s love or equally deserving of the benefits of the earth that created us all. You can’t truly love God and hate God’s creation; you can’t truly love Mother Earth and hate any of her children.
When a football player refuses to stand for the national anthem, instead of instantly condemning him as undeserving of citizenship in our country and deserving of being fired from his job for being such a poor role model, we should ask ourselves why he made that choice. We should listen to his story and attempt to see the world through his eyes, not force him to see it through our eyes. What are we afraid of? Are we afraid we may have to admit he has a point? Might considering the problems he calls to our attention force us to look into a mirror and see things we don’t want to face? Might that require us to step out of our comfortable complacency and DO something?
Prejudice is here. It never went away. We’re once again looking into its vile, ugly face. We can’t make it go away by electing a demagogue or by pretending everything’s okay or by blaming the victims. Change starts with looking inward and allowing the light of love to shine through us. That sounds a little corny and trite, but it’s the only way.