Love is in the air
Sometimes, you just know. You have that feeling. All you have to do is read the signs.
Friday
Tuesday
Just when I think
that maybe I'm being overly sensitive, and that everyone has difficulties in their lives, and maybe I should move on to another topic, I read this.
that maybe I'm being overly sensitive, and that everyone has difficulties in their lives, and maybe I should move on to another topic, I read this.
Thursday
Racism
This is a heavy topic. I bring it up because today I read this and it got me to thinking.
"Something I don't think most white people understand is how much black folks hate having to be black. Not that we hate our culture and all of that--though many civilians and one Supreme Court justice do--but how much we hate that we have to be black. We hate having to deal with all this nonsense. We hate being assumed to be stupid. We hate being assumed to be hoodlums. We hate being the stereotypical portrait of nearly everything bad in this society.
And we really hate that when we mention something that should be self-evident--that racism exists and that we all continue to suffer from it--that we are instantly told that we are playing some bogus notion of a race card.
Race is not the card, folks. It is the table on which all games are played. We wish it was just a card, something that could be easily flipped, discarded, and dealt again. It's not that. It's an albatross around our necks that we have no power to eliminate. If anything gives me an ulcer in my life, it will be that. Trust.
...
But why don't white writers talk about this stuff? It's more about why don't white people talk about this stuff more. Part of it is that I don't think white folks ever have to think of how intricate and nuanced expressions of racism are in this era. Now that it's out of style to be overtly racist, racism manifests itself insidiously and systemically. It lurks on the low, but in a way that you don't really see unless you have to deal with it. Kind of like how I'm looking outside of my window and it looks sunny. Only when I go to my car will I realize it's forty-five degrees.
I say that to say this--a lot of white people really don't get it until someone else tells them. And how should they? Ask most white people you know who many black people they know. I know for a fact that I'm a lot of people's only black friend. They just don't know any black people. If they knew more, they'd know more.
But from their windows, it looks sunny. I frequently am forced to be the one to tell 'em the temperature."
Read more here:
http://www.bomanijones.com/2005/11/03/08.26.03/index.html#more
I found Mr. Jones' site recently. I don't remember exactly how but it probably has something to do with me reading his sister's book, The Untelling. That's the book I was referrring to, by the way, on October 21 when I said sometimes I read other books and groan because I know I'm not that good yet.
Sorry for quoting such a long passage but the post really nailed a lot of things I've been thinking about. I've heard a lot of Anglos say they don't think racism is a problem. These are good people who are honestly shocked that others have to deal with this shit every day. The reason they are shocked is that they are white. And they mostly deal with other white people.
I know that I haven't suffered the same kind of racism my parents or grandparents have. My grandmother (who is at least a fifth-generation Texan) was once loaded up into an immigration truck to be taken to Mexico. Why? La migra had decided to raid a lake and my grandmother happened to be in a bathing suit and didn't have her ID on her. Because she looked and sounded Mexican, she got loaded up too. Didn't matter that she said she was a citizen. My grandfather eventually cleared things up, but this is the kind of thing that I'm sure could still happen if you're brown enough and speak with an accent.
My mother and grandparents regularly had to eat in the kitchens of restaurants in West Texas. They were not allowed to eat in the dining room. My mother is not old.
I always found it strange that my parents like to travel at night. Because we lived in the desert, they said it was to avoid the heat of the day. So when taking a long road trip, they would often start the drive at midnight and rest during the day. I thought it was quirky but whatever. I figured they'd picked it up from their parents. Recently, I was reading about black musicians who traveled at night. It was easier to avoid problems with restaurants and hotels that didn't want to serve you. I don’t know if this has influenced my parents or not. I think it has.
I have a lighter complexion than some of my family members and my last name doesn't sound Spanish. I assume that is why I've been told: "Are you sure you're not South American? You seem so educated for a Mexican."
My neighbor and I were discussing our trees and how they were close to the power lines. She had recently had her trees trimmed and recommended the man who had done the work. "He was Mexican, but he did a good job."
When Nate and I were engaged, we lived in Chicago. We wanted to get married in Austin. We asked our moms to scout a couple of locations for us, to help narrow down our choices, and then Nate and I planned to go visit their recommendations. Nate's mother (who is white) arrived and was greeted. She was shown various rooms and told about the different arrangements that could be made. My mother and sister showed up and were immediately asked if they were there to help serve for the wedding that afternoon.
Before Nate, I dated a Puerto Rican who had a dark complexion. I noticed that he got pulled over at least once a week for things like not signaling when he switched lanes. When he walked into stores, he was always asked to check his bags. When he presented his check card, he was always asked to show his ID. Once I asked him why he was so concerned with his appearance (shaving, keeping his hair cut religiously, etc.). He said that when he looked clean cut, he got treated better. He still got hassled, just less.
I could keep going but this subject just makes me tired. There is still racism. It's just different nowadays. The darker you are, the more you talk with an accent, the more you seem “different,” the more problems you have. Period.
This is a heavy topic. I bring it up because today I read this and it got me to thinking.
"Something I don't think most white people understand is how much black folks hate having to be black. Not that we hate our culture and all of that--though many civilians and one Supreme Court justice do--but how much we hate that we have to be black. We hate having to deal with all this nonsense. We hate being assumed to be stupid. We hate being assumed to be hoodlums. We hate being the stereotypical portrait of nearly everything bad in this society.
And we really hate that when we mention something that should be self-evident--that racism exists and that we all continue to suffer from it--that we are instantly told that we are playing some bogus notion of a race card.
Race is not the card, folks. It is the table on which all games are played. We wish it was just a card, something that could be easily flipped, discarded, and dealt again. It's not that. It's an albatross around our necks that we have no power to eliminate. If anything gives me an ulcer in my life, it will be that. Trust.
...
But why don't white writers talk about this stuff? It's more about why don't white people talk about this stuff more. Part of it is that I don't think white folks ever have to think of how intricate and nuanced expressions of racism are in this era. Now that it's out of style to be overtly racist, racism manifests itself insidiously and systemically. It lurks on the low, but in a way that you don't really see unless you have to deal with it. Kind of like how I'm looking outside of my window and it looks sunny. Only when I go to my car will I realize it's forty-five degrees.
I say that to say this--a lot of white people really don't get it until someone else tells them. And how should they? Ask most white people you know who many black people they know. I know for a fact that I'm a lot of people's only black friend. They just don't know any black people. If they knew more, they'd know more.
But from their windows, it looks sunny. I frequently am forced to be the one to tell 'em the temperature."
Read more here:
http://www.bomanijones.com/2005/11/03/08.26.03/index.html#more
I found Mr. Jones' site recently. I don't remember exactly how but it probably has something to do with me reading his sister's book, The Untelling. That's the book I was referrring to, by the way, on October 21 when I said sometimes I read other books and groan because I know I'm not that good yet.
Sorry for quoting such a long passage but the post really nailed a lot of things I've been thinking about. I've heard a lot of Anglos say they don't think racism is a problem. These are good people who are honestly shocked that others have to deal with this shit every day. The reason they are shocked is that they are white. And they mostly deal with other white people.
I know that I haven't suffered the same kind of racism my parents or grandparents have. My grandmother (who is at least a fifth-generation Texan) was once loaded up into an immigration truck to be taken to Mexico. Why? La migra had decided to raid a lake and my grandmother happened to be in a bathing suit and didn't have her ID on her. Because she looked and sounded Mexican, she got loaded up too. Didn't matter that she said she was a citizen. My grandfather eventually cleared things up, but this is the kind of thing that I'm sure could still happen if you're brown enough and speak with an accent.
My mother and grandparents regularly had to eat in the kitchens of restaurants in West Texas. They were not allowed to eat in the dining room. My mother is not old.
I always found it strange that my parents like to travel at night. Because we lived in the desert, they said it was to avoid the heat of the day. So when taking a long road trip, they would often start the drive at midnight and rest during the day. I thought it was quirky but whatever. I figured they'd picked it up from their parents. Recently, I was reading about black musicians who traveled at night. It was easier to avoid problems with restaurants and hotels that didn't want to serve you. I don’t know if this has influenced my parents or not. I think it has.
I have a lighter complexion than some of my family members and my last name doesn't sound Spanish. I assume that is why I've been told: "Are you sure you're not South American? You seem so educated for a Mexican."
My neighbor and I were discussing our trees and how they were close to the power lines. She had recently had her trees trimmed and recommended the man who had done the work. "He was Mexican, but he did a good job."
When Nate and I were engaged, we lived in Chicago. We wanted to get married in Austin. We asked our moms to scout a couple of locations for us, to help narrow down our choices, and then Nate and I planned to go visit their recommendations. Nate's mother (who is white) arrived and was greeted. She was shown various rooms and told about the different arrangements that could be made. My mother and sister showed up and were immediately asked if they were there to help serve for the wedding that afternoon.
Before Nate, I dated a Puerto Rican who had a dark complexion. I noticed that he got pulled over at least once a week for things like not signaling when he switched lanes. When he walked into stores, he was always asked to check his bags. When he presented his check card, he was always asked to show his ID. Once I asked him why he was so concerned with his appearance (shaving, keeping his hair cut religiously, etc.). He said that when he looked clean cut, he got treated better. He still got hassled, just less.
I could keep going but this subject just makes me tired. There is still racism. It's just different nowadays. The darker you are, the more you talk with an accent, the more you seem “different,” the more problems you have. Period.
Tired
Last night and this morning, the power went out 2-3 times (that I know of). The first time, I was just on the edge of dreaming and waking when all the power went off. There was the sound of everything powering down and all the street lights and what not going off. Then the dogs freaked out. I think it happened two more times (I would wake hearing the beeps of various appliances coming back on) and the dogs would come to the bed to check on me/get comforted.
Walker (the husky/shepherd combo) wasn't afraid. I think he was more curious, putting his nose on the bed to ask what's going on? But Sophi gets nervous about things like that. With Nate gone, they are hovering around me all the time. I think it's a combination of things. They seem both more protective and needing more attention because their normal daily buddy is gone for a couple of days. Where is he? Where did he go? When is he coming back?
I've been walking them both simultaneously. This is not an easy thing, necessarily. Sophi is about 55 pounds and Walker (last time we checked ) is 66. I keep Walker on my right hand, though he has been behaving well. They do like to play with other dogs' poop and no one seems to scoop in Dallas so I have to pay attention.
I really like our neighborhood but there's one thing that sort of drives me crazy. Several of our neighbors just let their dogs out into the front yards without leashes or supervision. At least seven that I see regularly. Two have jumped out at my car either as I'm going to or from work. And naturally, it can make for some aggressive scenes if you're walking by with two dogs. That's my least favorite part of taking the dogs around the 'hood. The most annoying part of this non-leash thing is that two of the dogs come over in the morning to our house or the neighbor's house regularly and poop on our front yards. Did I mention no one scoops? I'm trying to figure out a neighborly way to deal with this. But it seems like an accepted thing in the neighborhood, so I don't know what the best course of action (if any) is.
And of course, my Mr. Nate is gone for a couple of days for work reasons. The house is quiet and it's hard to sleep anyway. Power pops and annoying dogs aren't helping.