When I saw the “Black Sambo” game board in a square black frame. I wanted to scream.
We were so excited to find a new Antique store, and the day was bright and sunny.
The white store manager was what I describe as a nice white racist.
He talked about how his best customers were African-Americans who liked buying “this kind of stuff.”
When I asked him why? He believed that they bought these types of items because it helped them to remember how far they came.
I wanted to scream.
He then went on to tell us that he once found a trunk bought at an estate sale, and inside…..yes, you guessed it
A KKK outfit, uniform…or whatever you call those things.
He tried to tell us that the KKK was at first Anti-Catholic and then they changed to hating Blacks and Jews. He did some research on it, he said. Google, I think.
I wanted to scream.
He then told us how he believed that blacks were truly better in sports based on his limited experience.
He was a nice white racist; charming, ignorant, and emboldened with his “self-knowledge”.
I want to scream.
No words, no explanation.
I imagine my self entering these spaces, with a room full of people with faces not like mine, walking up to the microphone and screaming.
No words, just screams.
What can I say to the liberal white racist, like the nice white guy who knows a little bit but really not too much at all.
And as I write this, another dreadful, horrible story lingers in the back of my writing mind.
I read this morning that an unarmed African-American man, (#Alton Sterling) in Louisiana was held down by one white police officer while the other white police officer shot him in the chest and back.
Also yesterday, in Baghdad, 250 people killed by a car bomber. They too were unarmed.
I want to believe that love will conquer hate. I want to believe this and know this and hold on to this.
Enter screaming is all I got.
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While reading this all l could think of was Edvard Munch’s “The Scream”
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Thank you for commenting. I also thought of the scream by Edvard Munch as well….I also had images of the mask from the movie “Scream” as well. Not the comic aspect of the movie, but the ever present, fixed way that the scream stays on the mask. Coping with racism is like that for me at times.