"MY HOMETOWN"

There is great joy in being a kid. You do everything without a care in the world. Kids go to the playground and just play. They’re not looking at skin color or nothing. All they see is another kid and automatically just want to start playing. When they finish playing and leave to go their separate ways, they notice something different but not quite sure what to think. At that point it happens. They ask that one question that can shape them for the rest of their lives. The only reason they ask that one question is because they’ve either led a sheltered life or they’ve only hung around people of the same kind. “Momma, why did the kid I was playing with look different than us?” *PAUSE AND HAVE A TWIX CANDY* that’s a commercial and it’s a good one because people, in my opinion, should pause before they answer that question. I was asked that question and my response was, sweetie, she’s an American just like us. I can hear the screams now from the congregation. You’re wrong you should tell your daughter she’s a strong black woman because she’s going to face challenges that will be different from others. WOW! I guess I’m wrong then. God forbid I teach my child to accept people for who they are and not judge them by the color of their skin. Why am I writing about a strong topic such as race? Well, I’ve been contemplating this topic for a long time and it was driven further from a conversation had with my close circle of friends. We talked about my home town.

Even though I call it my hometown, I wished I truly felt it in my heart. I only use the term because my family is still there and if it weren’t for them, I probably wouldn’t go back. I’m not running from anything there, I just hate dealing with stupidity. Those are harsh words and I know that but if you saw things from my eyes, you’d agree. Growing up there was great and I can’t take anything from that. I learned a great deal about people and developed a talent to read people for who they are and blend with the environment. I accepted people for who they are. On many occasions that ability backfired and I ended up in situations where I was told niggers aren’t allowed here. Then there were situations where I was told you’re not welcomed here. The other situations were actions were golden, door slammed in the face. All I walked away unharmed. I have the gift of gab to talk my way out of anything. I saw things and experienced things that really shaped the way that I think. My parents treated me differently than my fellow siblings. I never heard negative words about another race come from them. Now if you ask my older siblings, they can tell you some things that would shock you if you knew my father. I was never privy to those conversations because lessons he taught me were hard work and putting your heart into everything you do. No one will do them for you. Eventually, it will have to be recognized that you are a force to get behind because you will get the mission done. I want you to see people for what they bring to the table not the color they show up in. That lesson has stuck throughout my entire life. So I look back on my lessons learned and look at my “hometown”. Why do I still see a house divided?

I was coming off the trail as a Drill Sergeant in the Army and I made a call to home. I was talking with my mother and she said some words that truly made me laugh. She said your brother is running for mayor. I almost dropped my phone. So I called him up and asked that question, did I hear mom correctly? You’re running for Mayor? He confirmed her statement. So jokingly I said to him, brother if you get elected, I will move back home. Well I be damned if he didn’t win. It truly shocked the crap out of me. His first words when I called to congratulate him were, so when you moving here? I laughed and told him at that time, brother, I really mean this; there is no way I am moving back there. The city has no growth potential because the town is too historical and because of this, it won’t grow. It’s a southern town with old values embedded. Everyone has a place there and it is seen every time you drive through it. There’s a definite line right through the heart of it. A step forward may have been taking since you’ve been elected but it is only the beginning of a long road to true equality. This is not a one sided look either; it’s on both sides. While setting in his office one day, I noticed a news article with “Black Mayor’s Conference” in the title. No other words stuck out but that. So me being me I had to ask, why is there a Black Mayor’s Conference, its 2010? The response made sense because it is true; a non black mayor will not go through the same type issues. It made sense but can be argued. If you’re looking for equality why separate? Most people will scream out because of all the trials and tribulations encountered during the growth of America. I still say those fights were for equality and many men died during that fight and we still continue to separate ourselves. I’m curious now though. I’m wondering if there’s such a thing as the White Mayors Conference. Probably so, I’ll Google that later. That’s a whole different debate there anyway. The reason I brought that up is because people, other than black refer to him as “that black mayor”. I’ve never heard people refer to previous mayors of my “hometown” as that white mayor. I just found that odd and with serious racial overtones to it. Even with what he’s going through now I’m wondering if it were a white mayor in office, would that person have the same issues. Some people who will read this would probably say, no they wouldn’t because they would’ve made the proper decision. That’s funny because I read somewhere that the mayor doesn’t have absolute power, he’s just a tie breaker in the vote for anything proposed to the city. As any official in an office where the title makes them “the man”, they also assume the position of the fall guy. It’s unfortunate that the fall guy is “that black mayor” This type of behavior is rooted in my “hometown” even with my class, which was the first integrated class to start together.

On the surface of it all, we were a tight knit group of students. I’m not going to say we never saw color the entire time together, but during the school hours, everything operated normally. You had your select groups that hung together; you know the football jocks hung together. The band geeks hung together. The drama club, 4H club, and so on and so forth. When did the color show? I’m not saying it had a part and I do not know what transpired because when I left my “hometown” I left. When I hear the stories about the class reunions that took place, it sounded as if there was a white reunion and a black reunion. Can I confirm this by saying I saw this with my own eyes? No I cannot. I can only go by the stories I heard. When it came time for the 25th class reunion, I was asked to come. So I asked, is the entire class going to be there because I would love to see everyone. Dead silence was heard over the phone. My response then was so we are doing a black reunion and a white reunion. Of course back tracking statements and a lot of stuttering took place. I’ve heard it all that “they” don’t want to work with us and “they” this and “they” that. How do I see this? It is a reflection on embedded old time values that has made its way into a class that all started together. Maybe I am seeing it wrong. So I was asked by another classmate, there are some people who would love to see you, can you come home and we will be on your time because we all know you’re serving in the military. Since I was asked, I came. Other times when I was asked, I wish I could say there was sincerity there but I felt like they wanted money more than they wanted to see me. I thought that’s what reunions were all about; to see one another and reflect on your days in school. I met with that select group and I tell you that I felt a real disconnect. The places that I’ve been and the things that I’ve seen really changed the way I think and see the world. I’m still the same clown as I was but a more direct person. So what do I want people to do from this? I want people to see that seeing color first and separating is not where we need to be. It seems we have fallen back into that old world again but at a more dangerous level. This is the electronic age and you can harm a person in a matter of milliseconds. So why bring harm to a person based off the skin they’re in. The whole story has to be told and I’ve learned that the people we think has our back are the same people who say differently when they’re behind closed doors. I may be too paranoid but a good thing is never a good thing. There’s always something lurking in background waiting to jump out and bring the whole thing crashing down.

As I read this, I can see a lot of people shut themselves off. They’re not going to take a bite of that Twix and pause. They’re not going to take the time and see it. They will automatically jump on that pro race wagon and ride out into the sunset and not believe it. They will scream out this is not true. All you will do is confirm that you’re not seeing me for who I am but seeing this as a black man mouthing off about race. I’m not mouthing off about race, I’m just making note that sometimes when we think we’re treating people equally, we still separate. Not all of us but the people who can influence sometimes do. Thanks for stopping by Stretch’s Corner. Just remember, these are just my thoughts and how I see it. Try to see it and tell me what you think. This is the one thing I do know, the world can’t be perfect but understanding one another is a start.