A Reflection on Racism

I've been thinking about racism recently, especially my own. I don't consider myself racist in any way. I have admired and looked up to many people of color over my life. I have some small amount of Native American ancestry through my great-great grandmother, but that doesn't usually count these days (though it certainly did in the 1800s), and the rest of my ancestry is from the British Isles in some way prior to the American colonies.

I have observed that every time I randomly imagine a mugger or a gang member, I virtually always imagine a person of color before I realize what I have done and change the image wilfully. The strange thing about this is that I did not grow up in an area where this should have even been a thing. I grew up in a very multiracial and multiethnic Orange County, CA where you would just as easily see an African American lawyer or doctor as you would a white or Hispanic one. You would just as easily see a white or Asian gang member as you would one who is African American or Hispanic. I was an early supporter of Barack Obama's candidacy for president largely because I respected the opinions of Oprah Winfrey who first promoted him highly.

So, why would I, of all people, imagine a person of color when I imagine a random thug?

The more I think about this question, the more I think it has to do with the media I consumed growing up. Television, movies, etc. Typically, in seventies, eighties, and even nineties media the roles of low level criminals, gang members, and thugs would virtually always be played by people of color. This stereotype was rampant in those productions which I, being largely homebound and having few friends as a kid, consumed constantly.

I have since grown beyond that subliminal programming, I hope, but that those associations remain in my psyche disturbs me. It also makes me think about how many other Americans received similar cultural programming through media and racial stereo typing just passed down from generation to generation. Whether we are consciously or actively racist, which I would like to think I am consciously and actively anti-racist, those associations which we were taught early on are still present in our psychological make up.

I think that if we, as a nation and as a culture, are to move past the cultural and societal racism which, let's face it, American culture was built on, we need to recognize this early programming for what it is and turn away from it.

A Very Personal Ramble

What I'm about to talk about is very personal to me. I'm sharing it here in the hopes that my experiences and struggles may be of some benefit to someone else.

I have previously written about the passing of my dad. What may not be common knowledge, though I have made no secret of it, is that my dad left us shortly before I turned six years old. The last time I saw my dad prior to February of 2013 was in October of 1983. I was eight years old. My dad did not raise me.

I have struggled throughout my life with older men and father figures because in the end, they have all ended up leaving or giving up on me. To be fair, I was not an easy kid to stick with, or a teenager, or a young adult for that matter. I have made no secret about that either. But be this as it may, one by one they all left or abandoned me to my own devices whether they were relatives, "big brothers," pastors, teachers, or spiritual leaders.

I don't think I realized exactly how deep this hurt was in my life until last night when it all came to the surface. At 44 years old, I spent part of last night sobbing silently in my bed when it hit me, trying to keep my kids from hearing me (my life was house sitting elsewhere).

What was more about this is how it has affected my relationship with God. I realized that I have also always been terrified of Him leaving me too. I know all the Scriptures regarding that not happening (I can probably quote them to you in both Greek and English), but there is a difference between knowing something, even believing it, and feeling it. And as I was sobbing, the question was asked me, "would I even abandon my kids regardless of anything that might do?" For me, of course the answer was "No. Absolutely not." And my kids know this. They might screw up, they might get into fights, do the wrong thing, land in jail, what have you. But they will always be my kids, and I will always be their father no matter what. I made that decision, that choice, early on the same way that Heidi and I made that decision towards each other early on.

And then the same was impressed upon me and towards me. God is my Dad. He has never abandoned me before, and He will never abandon me, no matter what I do. That's what a father does. That's what family is supposed to do. It's not about deserving it. It's about that familial relationship which exists which cannot "unexist." In reality, He's the only father and father figure who has never deserted me regardless of what I have said or done.

The truth is, I know I'm not the easiest person to mentor. And maybe that time for someone to take that role in my life has long past and is no longer possible. But the truth is, right now, I could have really used someone like a father to come alongside me and tell me everything's going to be okay like I tell my kids when some disaster strikes. I think, in many ways, I have tried to be the father to my kids that I never had. Admittedly, I think I'm terrible at it, but from what I've observed, most fathers feel the same way at some point in time. I can only thank God that He, more often than not, steps in and fathers them through me where I cannot (which is pretty much all the time).

I don't know who this ramble might help as I sit here and write it, but I set it out to say that if any of this rings familiar, that you're not alone.